Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: In Aragorn's Safekeeping (#1250)
Author: Radbooks
Chapters: 35

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: Rebecca and Thomas, two teenagers from the 1950s (before the books came out) end up in Middle Earth and become the wards of Aragorn. Story follows book closely - except for the addition of the two OC's! It is not a Legomance. Told from Aragorn, Rebecca, and Thomas's point of view. 2006 MEFAs: Honorable Mention - Genres: Drama, General.
Published: 08 Sep 2004
Updated: 17 Dec 2005
Warnings:
Type: Action/adventure
Characters: Aragorn; Fellowship; Eomer; Halbarad; Elladan, Elr


Chapter 1 - Falling from the Sky

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 1 – Falling from the sky

Aragorn was the first to notice the strange bundles in the small clearing ahead on the path they were following. He motioned everyone to stop as he pulled his sword from its sheath. Boromir quickly pulled out his sword as well and Legolas set an arrow to his string in readiness to whatever Aragorn had seen. While he could not tell what they were in the darkening twilight, something ‘felt’ wrong about them. He scanned the surrounding area quickly, taking in the trees and bushes that surrounded the open area ahead, noting that it was the perfect place for an ambush. But the forest itself sounded normal with the sounds of birds and crickets and there was no sense of danger other than those mysterious bundles on the ground. He made up his mind.

“Legolas. Boromir.” Aragorn called quietly, motioning them forward. They quickly and quietly joined him and could also now see the objects that had made Aragorn stop.

“What are those things?” Boromir was the first to speak, while Legolas looked intently at the objects.

“Aragorn, those are people lying there. Dead or hurt, I cannot tell,” Legolas said.

“People? Are you sure?”

Legolas gave his friend an amused smile, “Yes, Aragorn, I am quite sure. My eyes can see quite well from here.”

Aragorn grinned, before turning serious once again. “All right, that changes things. Legolas, you slip around to the far side of the clearing on the right and see if you can find anything. I will check the left side. Boromir you stay here and watch over the others. If it is clear we will check the people,” he glanced at the others and they nodded in understanding.

Legolas and Aragorn slipped off into the bushes without a sound. Aragorn found no tracks or signs of anything on his side before he met up with Legolas on the far side of the clearing. “Anything?”

“No. There was not a single track or broken branch on my side,” Legolas replied. “Yours?”

Aragorn shook his head, puzzled as they crept into the clearing and approached the bodies lying on the ground.

Legolas knelt down by the first body and softly touched the neck, feeling for a pulse. “He is alive, Aragorn!” he called. “Though, he seems to be sorely hurt.”

Aragorn nodded at his friend and quickly pulled back the strange cloak on the second person and also checked for a pulse. “He...no, it is a girl, is alive, as well. These clothes are strange,” he added absently. “Boromir!” he looked over to the edge of the woods where the rest of the Fellowship was standing and looking on curiously, “We will set up camp for the night in those trees,” Aragorn gestured to a well protected stand of trees on his left. “We will need a small fire. These people are wounded and I will need to tend to them. No, Pippin you go and help set up camp” he added with a slight frown.

Pippin, who had started eagerly walking toward Aragorn and Legolas, turned away with a disappointed look on his face. Merry put his arm around his shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, Pip, we’ll get to have a nice hot supper tonight and I’m sure we’ll have lots of time to talk to them later.”

As Legolas started to carefully lift up the brown-haired boy, he looked over at Aragorn with a confused expression. “Aragorn, where did they come from and how did they get here? These are strange clothes and there is no sign of how they got into this clearing.”

Aragorn looked at his friend and shrugged, “I know not. Only they can give us the answers.” He picked up the blonde headed girl and they walked up to the camp where they laid them down close to the fire that Gimli had started. As he set them down, Pippin and Merry both started pestering him with questions. Finally, Aragorn held up his hand to stop them, “I do not have any answers for you right now. I need hot water to tend to their wounds and Sam can cook you a hot meal, which should make you happy as you have been complaining about it for days. Gandalf, I will need your help.”

As the others returned to setting up camp and Legolas went to keep watch, Gandalf knelt down next to the boy and girl, looking at them closely. As Aragorn sorted through his pouch of herbs, and healing supplies, they talked quietly. “They wear strange clothes, Aragorn, and look at their hair.” Aragorn glanced at it, noticing how short it was on both the boy and the girl.

“It is awfully short, Gandalf. How old do you think they are?”

“Not old, younger than twenty.”

Aragorn nodded in agreement and indicated that he was ready to begin. Gandalf helped him gently remove the strange, yet thick and heavy cloaks they were wearing. They looked them over carefully trying to find all of their various injuries. It was quite odd. They were wounded on opposite sides of their bodies, the boy on the right and the girl on the left. They both had large bumps and bruises on their upper foreheads, which was what was obviously causing their unconscious state. The boy had two long cuts on the right side of his cheek near his ear; a deep gash on his right shoulder that would need stitches; and many cuts and scratches on the right side of his chest, stomach and upper legs. The girl was little better, she had fewer cuts, the worst being one on her chin, but her left wrist was either sprained or broken.

“What do you want me to do?” Gandalf questioned quietly.

“When we get the water, you can help clean the wounds, but mostly I...”

“Here’s the water, Aragorn!” Pippin interrupted loudly. He walked quickly over, almost spilling the water in his haste. Aragorn carefully took the pot of water and set it down while Pippin started asking questions once again. “How are they doing? Have they said anything yet?”

“Pippin! Leave Aragorn and Gandalf alone!” Merry scolded as he came over and grabbed Pippin by his arm and dragged him back to the other side of the fire.

Aragorn shook his head and smiled fondly before turning back to his patients. He added some herbs to the hot water and handed Gandalf some clean cloths “You clean her wounds and I will do his. Then I will stitch the ones that need it and wrap her wrist. Then it is just giving them time to wake up.” They worked silently for many minutes cleaning each cut and scratch thoroughly to minimize the risk of infection.

Finally, Gandalf broke the silence. “Where did they come from?” he mused softly as if to himself. “There are no villages for hundreds of miles and I have never seen clothes like these. Aragorn?”

“Yes?”

“Were there any signs around where you found them? Of other people? Horses? Anything?

“No, we did not find anything. It was strange. But I did not talk to Legolas for very long. Legolas!”

Legolas climbed down swiftly from the tree where he had been on watch and walked over and crouched down next to Aragorn and Gandalf. The rest of the Fellowship looked up and listened to the quiet conversation between the three of them.

Aragorn finished stitching the last wound on the boy’s shoulder and swiftly bandaged it with experienced hands. Finally, he asked, “Did you notice anything unusual when we found them this afternoon?”

“More unusual than finding two mortals lying wounded and unconscious in a clearing in the middle of nowhere?” Legolas asked with amusement before turning serious. “It was all unusual, there are no tracks leading into that clearing except for ours. I went back and searched again. It is almost as if...” he hesitated.

“Yes, go on.” Gandalf prompted him.

“It is like they dropped from the sky and just landed in the middle of the clearing.” He said finally.

“From the sky!” laughed Gimli.

“You cannot be serious!” said Boromir.

“How exciting!” Pippin yelped.

All three voices broke out at the same time while Merry, Frodo and Sam just looked at each other. Legolas shrugged and looked away not saying anything else.

Aragorn ignored the reaction as he started to wrap the girl’s wrist which was, in fact, broken. As he wrapped the cloth around the arrow shafts he was using for splints, he glanced at Gandalf and shook his head. “If this noise does not wake them up, nothing will.”

Gandalf smiled faintly and looked around at the others who were still hotly discussing the possibility of someone falling from the sky. “Gentlemen, I suggest we all get some sleep. This mystery cannot be solved until one or both of them awake. Now, who has the watch tonight?”

After some quiet grumbling and whispering among the hobbits, the camp was soon silent. All were asleep, except for Boromir, who had the first watch and Gandalf, who sat near the boy and girl puffing on his pipe lost in thought.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0



TBC….


Chapter 2 - Awakening

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 2 – Awakening

It was a couple of hours before dawn when a faint groan was heard coming from the boy. Merry, who had the last watch, walked quietly over and felt the boy’s head, which was a little warm. From the way the boy was starting to move and the sounds he was making, Merry knew he soon would be awake.

“Aragorn” Merry whispered. Aragorn’s eyes opened immediately and he sat up looking alert and ready for any possible danger. “I think the boy is waking.” Aragorn quickly walked over and knelt down by the boy who now had his eyes open, though you could barely see them in the pre-dawn darkness. Aragorn felt his head and frowned at the slight warmth he felt there.

The boy pulled away in fright as soon as he felt the hand touch him. He tried to see where he was and who had touched him, but it was too dark. It felt like he was lying outside, but that didn’t make any sense. His body hurt everywhere, from the pounding in his head to the throbbing around his chest and in his legs. There were thick bandages on his head and his shoulder and his arm. I wonder what happened to me, he thought as he tried again to look around.

Suddenly he heard a deep, yet gentle voice right next to him, “It is going to be all right. You are among friends here. I am sure that you are in pain and very sore, but you can rest easy, no one here will hurt you.” The boy tried to see a face to match the voice in the darkness, but all he could see was just the faint outline of a large man and a child sitting beside him. Yet there was something in that voice he felt he could trust and so he lay back down. He hissed in pain as his right shoulder hit the ground and his head continued to throb with pain.

The man turned to the child, “Merry, go and build up the fire and start some water boiling, then bring me my pouch of herbs. Oh, first wake up Gandalf.”

“All right, Aragorn.” Merry scurried off to do Aragorn’s bidding.

The boy thought that the person named Merry had a strange sounding voice. Not like a child at all. Maybe it was just a different accent or something and what did he call this guy sitting next to him - Aragorn? He was jerked out of his thinking by the sound of the man’s voice.

“...your name?” the man asked.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I wanted to know your name.”

“Oh, my name is Thomas Morgan. But most people call me Tommy or even Tom. Who are you?”

“My name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Though, I too am called by other names at times.” He said with a small laugh.

As dawn crept nearer, Thomas could more clearly see the man sitting beside him. He had dark shoulder length hair, which looked rather strange on a man. He also had a scruffy looking beard and mustache. But it was the eyes that captured most of Thomas’s attention. They were grey and somehow those eyes looked both stern and kind, though how that was possible, he didn’t know. Thomas’s eyes opened wide as he suddenly realized that Aragorn was carrying a sword, which scared him. He opened his mouth to ask why he had a sword when a second man walked up. This man was dressed in grey robes and was wearing a tall, pointed, grey hat. His blue eyes widened in disbelief as he looked him over.

The man sat down next to Aragorn and looked at Thomas with piercing blue eyes. “Ahh, you are awake, young one.” He smiled.

“Yes, sir,” Thomas replied somewhat nervously though he didn’t really know why he was nervous. The man seemed nice enough and he had smiled. Still, there was something about him that seemed ancient and seemed to demand respect.

Aragorn’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, “Thomas Morgan, this is my friend, Gandalf.” Thomas smiled and nodded his head at Gandalf, forgetting his pounding headache and groaned in pain again. Aragorn looked at him with sympathy, “Merry is coming now with the hot water and I will make you something for the pain and to help with the fever.”

“Don’t you have any aspirin?” Thomas asked, surprised. “Wouldn’t that be easier than making me something?” Gandalf and Aragorn glanced at each other in confusion, but Thomas didn’t notice. “I’m sure that a few aspirin would be okay...” his voice trailed off as if he suddenly realized something. He sat up suddenly, ignoring the pain racing through him. “Why am I lying on the ground outside? Shouldn’t I be in a hospital when I’m this hurt? Did the bus crash? Where’s my mom?” His voice was getting loud and he woke the rest of the Fellowship members who looked over in surprise, but didn’t move or say anything. He looked around wildly at the people, at the woods and a note of panic entered his voice, “Where am I? Why do you all have swords?” Thomas looked up at Merry and realized he was not a child. “What...what are you?” he whispered as he noticed Merry’s ears. He swallowed his rising panic and tried to calm himself down.

“I’m a hobbit, and my name is Merry.” He said gently as he set the pot of water next to Aragorn. “Those are my cousins, Frodo and Pippin and our friend, Sam.” He pointed to each of the other hobbits, who gave Thomas a small wave, but didn’t say anything.

Thomas took a couple of deep breaths and looked back at Aragorn and Gandalf who were watching him closely. Aragorn with his kind, yet questioning eyes. Gandalf with eyes that were hooded and thoughtful as he looked at Thomas. Finally, Aragorn broke the silence that had descended on the camp after Thomas’s outburst. “I honestly cannot answer all of your questions, Thomas. All I can tell you is that last evening we found you and the young lady in the middle of the clearing behind you.”

Thomas first looked at the girl, who he had not noticed before, and then carefully turned his head and looked at the clearing to see if he could remember anything.

Aragorn continued, “Legolas and I...

“Leglass?” Thomas interrupted.

“Legolas.” Aragorn bit back a smile as he corrected the boy’s pronunciation of his friend’s name. He could hear the chuckles of the hobbits as they started to tease Legolas. It was all he could do to stop himself from joining them and focus on Thomas. “We carried you and the girl here and tended to your wounds. As to how you got here, we were hoping that you could tell us.” He glanced at Gandalf to see if he had any ideas, but he just shook his head slightly and kept watching the boy.

Thomas blinked his eyes rapidly a few times, took a deep breath and then slowly looked around again being careful not to move too quickly. Mostly he looked at the ‘people’ and their clothes and their weapons. He wondered why they had weapons and if they needed weapons, why swords and knifes. That tall blonde guy even has a bow, it makes no sense, he thought with a bit of panic.

“Here, drink this.”

“What is it?” Thomas asked looking down at the cup in confusion

“It will help with your pain and the fever.” Aragorn reminded him patiently.

Thomas took a small sip and started choking. “That’s awful!” he exclaimed. Everyone laughed, and Thomas looked up as the short man snorted, “Better get well quick, lad or you’ll be drinking lots of those foul-tasting teas of Aragorn’s.”

Aragorn smiled, “I shall remember your words, Master Gimli, and if you ever have need of my skills, I shall brew you the most horrible tasting drinks that I can.” Gimli sputtered and everyone laughed again. “As for you, Thomas, I know that it tastes bitter, but it will help with your pain and fever and you need to drink it all.” Thomas nodded in compliance, took a deep breath and swallowed it in one gulp. He shuddered from the taste and Merry handed him a funny looking pouch.

“What is this?” he asked, confused. Merry looked at him in surprise. “It’s a waterskin.” When Thomas still didn’t seem to know what to do with it, Merry pulled the plug, took a drink and handed it back to Thomas. He looked at it and took a long drink before returning it to the hobbit with his thanks.

Merry wandered off to see about breakfast just as Boromir and Legolas came to talk to Aragorn and Gandalf about the plan for the day. Thomas was lost in his own thoughts when he heard his name mentioned and he looked over at the four of them. “...Thomas needs to rest and the girl is still unconscious. We cannot move on today.” One of the men, whose name he didn’t know said, “Well, we have been pushing the little ones pretty hard, it will be good for them to have some rest.”

Aragorn noticed that Thomas was listening to their conversation. “Thomas Morgan, I want you to meet Boromir son of Denethor and Legolas son of Thranduil.”

“Hello, nice to meet you.” Thomas said politely, slightly embarrassed now about his earlier behavior.

Boromir nodded and turned back to Gandalf, while Legolas responded with a small bow and a cheery, “Mae govannen, Thomas.”

Thomas wondered what that meant and then gave a small start as he noticed Legolas’s pointed ears and he looked him over carefully, noticing the long partially braided blonde hair, which was so different from the others here. He turned and looked thoughtfully at the hobbits and remembered that Merry also had pointy sort of ears and now he noticed they had bare, hairy feet. He sighed and then turned to look back at Legolas and blushed bright red when he saw four pairs of eyes looking at him with amusement.

“I’m sorry...I’ve never...uh...never met anyone...with pointed ears before.”

He was stopped by the sound of laughter from around the camp. “Say no more, Thomas;” Legolas said gently, “many mortals are surprised the first time they meet an elf.”

“An elf?” Thomas exclaimed, quite loudly, causing the hobbits and Gimli to look up from their breakfast again. “But elves aren’t real...” he started to say before stopping mid-sentence. Legolas raised an eyebrow at that, while Aragorn and Boromir chuckled. Gandalf, however, continued just to observe Thomas and his reactions.

“I’m sorry, Legolas. I’m not trying to be rude. There are no elves where I live.” Thomas tried his best to explain. “I’ve never seen one or even heard of one except in stories.”

“What about hobbits? Have you heard of them?” Pippin asked from across the fire.

Thomas shook his head slowly. The medicine had helped, but his head still hurt from the blow it had taken and his body ached. On top of that, there was a flood of questions that needed to be answered and no one could do that for him. He was overwhelmed with all this information, elves and hobbits, indeed!

Something was very, very wrong here, but he didn’t know what it was except that he was very far from home. He finally answered Pippin. “No,” he said very softly, “I’ve never heard of hobbits before either.” He carefully lay down and rolled over, away from everyone, so that no one could see the tears that suddenly filled his eyes. He didn’t hear them walk away as he fell back to sleep.

The Fellowship moved a few paces away from the fire before sitting and talking quietly about the boy and girl.

“Where are they from, Gandalf?” asked Frodo, “It’s obvious they are not from around here.” He frowned slightly as he looked back at Thomas.

“He sure was scared. The swords and...”

“Never seen or heard of elves or hobbits!” Pippin interrupted Boromir with his usual eagerness.

“Don’t interrupt, Pip. Most humans haven’t heard of hobbits so that’s not unusual. But he didn’t know what a waterskin was either or how to use it, now that is unusual!” Merry paused before going on. “Did you notice, Aragorn, how he looked you over? Took in everything about you? And, Legolas too, for that matter, though that makes more sense when he said he had never seen an elf.”

“Of course I noticed him looking me over,” Aragorn replied with a small smile. “At first I thought it was just because I was someone he did not know and he was in an unfamiliar place. But then I realized he had never seen anyone dressed like me, he took a sharp breath when he laid eyes on my sword. I do have sharp eyes and ears, Master Hobbit!”

Merry gave Aragorn an apologetic grin and a small bow.

“But that still doesn’t answer our question!” growled Gimli. “If they are not from here, then where are they from?”

He, along with everyone else, turned to Gandalf expecting him to have the answer. Gandalf just looked at them impassively and shook his head slightly.

“I wish I could answer that question because I would very much like to know, but I truly have no idea. However, I would venture to say that it is a very long way from here and that Legolas may be closer to the answer than we suspected.” Murmurs of surprise broke out at that statement. “We will have to wait until I can talk to Thomas further and then the girl as well. Aragorn, how is the girl doing?”

“She seems to be fine, her breathing is normal and she does not have a fever. I think it is just a matter of time until she wakes up. I was surprised however, that Thomas did not know her. I would have thought they were traveling together.” Aragorn made his comments as he finished his long delayed breakfast. He then pulled out his pipe and filled it with pipe-weed.

“Aragorn! How can you smoke that stuff so early in the morning and right after breakfast?” Legolas growled.

“Helps me think,” Aragorn shot his friend a grin while Legolas returned a scowl before giving him a slight smile. Though he still got up and moved to the other side of the circle away from the smoke.

“That’s what I always say,” said Pippin cheerfully, “a good smoke always helps me to think.”

“Too bad you don’t have anything in your head to think about” Merry said teasingly.

“I do too have things to think about,” Pippin protested. “...things like...”

“Yes?” Merry prompted.

“Go ahead.” Frodo laughed at the look on his young cousin’s face.

“Well, I can’t think of them right now with you looking at me like that, but I really do!” Pippin said hotly.

“I’m sure you do.” Frodo said soothingly, while Merry and Sam just laughed.

Gimli and Aragorn glanced at each other and had to look away to keep themselves from laughing, while Legolas just smiled softly.

“Now, where were we before we got interrupted with talk of pipe-weed and thinking.” Gandalf said with a small glare around the circle before breaking into a small smile. “Oh yes, Thomas and the girl. We know they wear strange clothes, they are not traveling together, they have never seen either elves or hobbits...well, at least he has not. I suppose we cannot presume that it is the same for her though it does seem likely. Aragorn, could the hit on his head have caused some kind of memory loss?”

“A blow to the head can cause memory loss, but I do not believe that happened in this case. He is too alert and aware of who he is and what should and should not be here.”

“All we can do is wait and ask them questions. We shall have to take them with us. Rivendell is a week behind us and we cannot send them back there and there is nowhere else to leave them,” Gandalf sighed. “No, they shall have to come with us. Let’s take advantage of this day to rest before we move on tomorrow. Legolas, maybe you can scout around and I think you hobbits should rest as much as possible for our journey ahead is still long and arduous.”

The hobbits quickly settled down on their bedrolls and went back to sleep, Legolas slipped quietly away into the forest and Gimli and Boromir settled down for a quiet discussion about their respective homes. Aragorn went back to check on Thomas and the girl before lying down to try and catch up on the sleep he had missed. Gandalf sat musing about where these two had come from, why they were there and what they would do with them once they discovered the answers to the first two questions.

Translations:

Mae govannen – well met


Chapter 3 - Discovery

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 3 – Discovery

Thomas woke with a start, laughing inwardly at the vivid dream he had had. He suddenly heard voices and soft laughter and realized that it wasn’t a dream after all. With a deep sigh he opened his eyes blinking as the sun’s rays shone brightly into them. Deciding that he needed to sit up he used his good arm to slowly push himself up, being careful not to bump his injured arm or to make any sudden moves that would make his head spin. Once he was comfortable, he looked around and saw that the people he had met earlier had stopped their conversation and were looking at him, except for the hobbits who were asleep. He smiled at them and looked out at the woods and around the camp, noticing the pony for the first time, before settling back on the men.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore. My headache is better though... and I’m... s-sort of h-hungry.”

The men chuckled as Thomas stuttered through the end of his sentence. He looked down, embarrassed and said quietly, “Well, it’s been a long time since I ate.”

Gimli got up and got some bread and dried meat and handed it to Thomas along with the waterskin. “Just how old are you, lad?”

“Thank you. I’m 17… I’m sorry, what was your name again?”

“Gimli son of Gloin at your service.”

“Gimli?”

“Aye, I’m a dwarf.”

Thomas just closed his eyes, nodded his head and started eating his bread. It was dry, but he was very hungry so he ate it while drinking lots of water. The others all noticed his reaction to Gimli being a dwarf, but made no comment. Gandalf decided that now was the time, however to start finding the answers to all of their questions. It would also be much easier with the hobbits asleep as there would be fewer interruptions.

“Thomas?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I have some questions I would like to ask you and I want you to answer them truthfully.” Gandalf’s voice was stern and the look in his eyes and on his face was serious.

“Of course, sir!” Thomas’s voice shook a little and his eyes opened wide as he looked at Gandalf and then around at the others before settling back on Gandalf. Aragorn, Boromir, and Gimli said nothing and just watched Thomas with expressionless faces, faces that just made him even more nervous.

“Where do you live?”

“A small town called Lakeside, right near St. Paul, Minnesota, sir.”

“Where?” Gandalf asked again, not understanding the answer. He exchanged a puzzled look with the men and dwarf who also had confused looks on their faces as they gazed at Thomas.

“Lakeside...St. Paul, Minnesota.” Thomas said it slower as if that would help them understand. “You know, in the United States of America.” He could tell that none of them had heard of either the city or state or even the United States! He knew from their earlier conversation that something strange had happened to him, but to have not even heard of the United States? It was the biggest country in the world!

“I have never heard of such a place!” exclaimed Boromir. “Is it a city?”

“Well, Lakeside is a small town and St. Paul is a city, Minnesota is a state, and the United States is my country.” Thomas explained, feeling more and more uneasy with their response. “Surely you know where the United States is even in this part of the world.”

Gandalf glanced at the others and shook his head slightly. “Well, we will come back to that question a little later. Do you know this girl?”

“I don’t know her...at least I don’t think so...” his voice trailed off. He began to struggle to his feet, but started to fall when his head starting spinning. Aragorn was quickly at his side and carefully helped him up and over to the girl so he could get a closer look at her. He stared down at her for a minute and then looked at Gandalf, “She does look sort of familiar, maybe I saw her on the bus...”

Gimli leaned over to Boromir and whispered, “What’s a bus?”

“I have no idea.”

Thomas sat back down with Aragorn’s help, but he appeared to be deep in thought. Finally he blinked and looked up at Gandalf, “How did I get from the bus to the middle of the woods? We were on a busy highway...it was dark...it was snowing...there was a loud noise...” again his voice trailed off.

Gandalf opened his mouth to ask him what a bus was when there was movement and a low moan from the girl. Aragorn was quickly at her side watching her and making sure she did not make any sudden movements that could cause further damage. She continued to moan softly and then slowly her brown eyes started opening, blinking in the glare of the late-morning sun. She was startled by the sight of a long-haired man leaning over her and she let out a small gasp and pulled back away from him in fright.

“My lady, you are safe here. I will not harm you.” Aragorn soothed quietly.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Her voice quavered as she tried to see what was around her.

“My name is Aragorn son of Arathorn, my lady.”

“Aragorn? That’s a strange name.” She blushed as she realized how rude she had just been. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud...” she blushed again as Aragorn chuckled and was joined by some of the other men she could see sitting around her.

“There is nothing to forgive, my lady.” He smiled down at her, “What is your name?”

“Rebecca Norton”

“Now that is a strange name,” commented one of the men. Rebecca turned her head carefully and glared at the man.

“Boromir...” Aragorn cautioned.

“Forgive me, Lady Rebecca, I was jesting.” Boromir bowed his head slightly in apology.

Aragorn turned back to Rebecca and placed his hand lightly on her forehead, but it was cool. “There is still no sign of fever. You do have a broken wrist and many cuts and bruises and if you are like Thomas, I believe you must be very sore.”

“I am sore,” she admitted, “my head and wrist is throbbing. Who is Thomas?”

Aragorn turned and pointed to a young man of about her own age sitting nearby. He also had many bandages wrapped around him, much as she did. She suddenly noticed that while he was wearing ‘normal’ clothes, everyone else wore some kind of strange, ‘Robin Hood’ type clothing, complete with swords. There was even a man in grey robes with a long pointy hat. Thomas also had normal short brown hair, while all of the other men had long hair and beards and mustaches too. Where am I, she wondered. No men I know have long hair or beards; it was all so very strange.

“Hello, Thomas.”

“Hi, Rebecca, nice to meet you.”

“Where are we? This doesn’t seem right to me somehow.”

“I don’t know where we are either. I’ve been totally confused since I woke up this morning.”

Aragorn helped Rebecca sit up and then handed her a cup of warm liquid and told her to drink it for the pain. “What, no aspirin?” She looked over at Thomas, already feeling like he was someone she could trust since he seemed to be in the same shape she was in. He shrugged, “I asked too, but they don’t have it here. Drink that fast, it tastes terrible.” Aragorn shot him a dirty look. “But it works really well” he hastened to add. Rebecca swallowed it quickly and made a face before handing the cup back to Aragorn who walked away to talk with Gandalf.

“Thank you.” She then looked around nervously with a slight grimace wondering how to solve her most pressing need. I wonder how I go to the bathroom out here. There is nothing but trees, no buildings of any kind. I know people DO go in the woods but ugh. She shivered slightly at the thought.

“My lady, what is the matter? May I help you?”

Rebecca jumped, startled at the soft voice since she had not heard anyone approaching. She looked up into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. A man with long blonde hair was crouching in front of her and she wondered where he had come from as he hadn’t even been there a second ago. “Ah..., well, who are you?”

“Legolas son of Thranduil, my lady. Please tell me what you need and I will help you.”

“It’s sort of embarrassing...but...umm...I need to go to the bathroom and I don’t know where to go out here.” She stammered as her face turned red and she looked down at her lap.

“Ah, I see,” Legolas looked at her questioningly for a moment before understanding dawned in his eyes. “Well, my lady, I can help you with that, I shall take you to a safe place away from the camp and…” Rebecca looked up shocked.

“Take me?”

“Yes, it is not safe for you to be alone in the woods.”

“But you can’t be there...” she ducked her head and her voice was on the edge of panic as she realized once again that she was alone and surrounded by strangers.

“Lady Rebecca, please look at me.” Legolas’s voice implored gently.

Rebecca started to shake her head no, but the gentleness in the voice caused her to look up. The kindness she saw in his blue eyes was like nothing she had ever seen before.

“I would never hurt you in any way. I know that you do not know me and have no reason to trust me, but I promise that you will be safe with me. You are safe with everyone here.” He gestured to the others who had been listening. “You can trust us, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca looked at him searchingly and saw no deceit in his eyes, only kindness and a wisdom and maturity that surprised her for someone so young. She nodded her head slowly, “I...believe I can trust you, Legolas.”

Legolas gave her a breathtaking smile and held out his hand. “Then come, let us go find a safe place.” Rebecca sighed and took his hand knowing that she really had no other choice and though she did trust Legolas it was still embarrassing. He carefully helped her to her feet and made sure that she could walk all right with her various injuries before leading her into the woods.

Rebecca stared straight-ahead not daring to look at the men around the fire. It was bad enough them knowing what she was doing, let alone having to look at them, all she could think about was that this day could not possible get any worse. However, she did have to admit that Legolas was the perfect gentleman. He led her to a sheltered spot and left her while he walked away and turned his back so that she did have some privacy. When she was finished, he led her back to camp and helped her sit down against a rock so that she could lean back.

Thomas moved over to join her as she looked curiously at the two men whose names she did not know. As if he sensed her staring at him the short man looked up.

“We have not been properly introduced, Lady Rebecca. Gimli son of Gloin at your service,” he said with a small bow.

“Hello.”

“I am called Gandalf, are you hungry? I believe it is time for lunch.”

Rebecca nodded up at the tall man standing over her, “Actually, I’m more thirsty than hungry, but I could eat a little something.”

As soon as the word lunch was mentioned, the four hobbits began to stir. They were quickly up and rummaging through the packs looking for food.

Rebecca stared at them in disbelief and turned to Thomas. “What are they?”

“They are called Hobbits.” He said with a shrug, “Gimli is a dwarf.”

Rebecca turned and looked Gimli over from head to toe, shaking her head in surprise. “I thought he was just a short man,” she whispered.

“Nope, he told me he was a dwarf. Legolas is an elf.”

Now Rebecca was really confused. “An elf? Are you sure? He sure looks and acts like a man.”

Neither of them noticed Legolas wince at that comment.

“Look at his ears, Rebecca.”

“His ears are pointed! How could I not have noticed that before? Thomas, WHERE are we? This can’t be real. There are no elves or hobbits anywhere on earth.” Her voice has steadily risen above its low whisper and everyone heard the last few comments.

Thomas just shrugged his shoulders and looked away with a frown.

Legolas walked over and handed Rebecca some bread and a waterskin. “Sam is going to cook some lunch, but this will give you something to hold you for a little while, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca smiled gratefully as she took the food all the while looking at him carefully. She took note of his ears, braided hair and his perfect facial features.

Gandalf and Aragorn walked over and sat down near Rebecca and Thomas. Their serious expressions made Rebecca nervous and she started twisting a strand of her medium length blonde hair.

“Now, Lady Rebecca, I have asked Thomas these questions, but I need to ask you some as well.”

She nodded, noticing the camp had gone quiet and everyone was looking at her curiously. She took a deep breath and focused her eyes on her broken wrist, wondering, not for the first time, how that had happened.

“...old are you?”

Jerked out of her thoughts she realized Gandalf had just asked her a question, and she realized she needed to focus. “I’m 16.”

“And where do you live?”

“St. Paul, Minnesota.”

“Me, too!” Thomas interrupted the questioning. “Well, it’s actually Lakeside, but I always say St. Paul. Do you know where Lakeside is?”

“Oh, sure, I’ve been there a couple of times with my family...” she paused as the hobbits voices were suddenly raised in confusion. The other Fellowship members who had heard this before just looked at each other.

“I’ve never heard of such a place.”

“Me either, Pip. What about you, Frodo?”

“No, can’t say as I have,” he said slowly. “But you looked at all the maps at Rivendell, Merry, and if you didn’t see it I don’t reckon it’s in middle earth! Do you know where it is Aragorn? Gandalf? You’re both being awfully quiet about this.”

Thomas and Rebecca were startled when they heard the hobbit say Middle Earth. They looked at each other and Thomas whispered, “Middle earth?” She shrugged and shook her head before looking back at the others.

“Umm, excuse me, Gandalf,” Thomas interrupted the conversation. “Did...I think it was Frodo, say something about...middle earth?”

“Yes, yes, he did.” Gandalf stared at him intently with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Well, what’s middle earth? We’ve never heard of it...we live on earth...just plain earth.” He finished uncomfortably as he noticed the stares of all the Fellowship getting a little darker and even more confused, if that were possible, than before.

Rebecca stirred restlessly beside Thomas and continued playing with her hair. Thomas reached over and grabbed her uninjured hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and a small smile. She smiled faintly back, sat up carefully and stared right back at them.

“Earth?” asked Pippin, his shrill voice breaking the sudden silence that had fallen.

“Yes,” answered Rebecca and Thomas at the same time.

The hobbits broke into a frenzy of questions, all talking at once and it was impossible to understand anything they were saying.

“Peace!” thundered Gandalf, “Or we will be here all night listening to your foolishness.”

Rebecca and Thomas both jumped at the sound of Gandalf’s voice and again held hands, gaining some comfort from that simple touch.

“Now, I have never heard of earth either.”

“It’s not like this place,” Rebecca said quietly. “There are no elves or hobbits there.”

“And people don’t walk around with swords and bows. Or dress like you do,” Thomas added.

Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas glanced at each other trying to imagine a world where no one needed to carry weapons. It was difficult to believe.

“Thomas you said earlier something about a bus...I know not what that is because we do not have those in middle earth. You also said something about snow and a noise. Will you explain?”

“You were on a bus? I was on a bus going to Portland,” Rebecca said thoughtfully. I wonder if this is all a dream. But it is way too real to be a dream; I’m in too much pain for that. It seems more like one of those science fiction books I’ve read. Where people go through some kind of a time warp or something, Rebecca thought as her mind raced, trying to figure this out.

“I was going to get off in Spokane. I thought maybe I had seen you on the bus. I was sitting in the middle of the bus on the right side. Where were you sitting?”

“Oh, towards the front on the left side next to the window. I was sitting with my mom...” Rebecca’s voice trailed off as she thought about her mother and she turned away from everyone and looked off into the distance.

While Aragorn did not know what a ‘bus’ was he did realize that their injuries matched up with what they were saying. Thomas had been sitting on the right side and all of his injuries were on the right side of his body. Rebecca had sat on the left and all of her injuries were there. Something had happened on or to this bus to cause these injuries. It had also somehow caused them to come here. He glanced at Gandalf who gave him a nod and knowing look and realized he had come to the same conclusion.

“Anyway, Gandalf, a bus is a vehicle that is used to transport people from town to town. It has a big engine and it’s cheaper than driving a car and...” Thomas slowly stopped as he could tell that none of them understood what he was saying. “What am I thinking. You don’t have cars or engines here, I bet.” It was gradually sinking in that he REALLY was in a totally different world. “Probably just use horses and wagons, huh?”

Aragorn answered Thomas’s question. “We do use horses and wagons. I do not know what a car or bus is, nor do any here.” He glanced around at the others who nodded in agreement.

“Well, we were on the bus and there was a bad snowstorm. I think the driver was planning on stopping at the next town because he could hardly see.”

He glanced at Rebecca as he said that to see if she would confirm what he was saying, but she wasn’t paying attention, just looking into the woods and playing with her hair again.

“The last thing I remember before waking up this morning was a horrible loud noise. Almost like an explosion or something and then everything went dark.”

“An explosion?” Gandalf questioned.

“Well, I don’t know how else to explain it, sir.”

Rebecca had had enough. She was very scared and all alone with ten strange ‘men’ in the middle of who knows where. Her body hurt and ached in every place imaginable. She also now knew for sure that she wasn’t at home or even on her own planet or maybe in a different time or something. Tears started streaming down her face as she quietly started to cry. No one noticed because of the ongoing discussion between Thomas and the Fellowship. It didn’t matter what or how it had happened. The fact was it had. Now what would she do? How would she get home? She used her uninjured right hand to wipe away the tears, but they just kept falling faster and faster. Suddenly everyone heard a sob and looked over, now noticing Rebecca’s red eyes and tear-stained face. Thomas tried to take her hand again, but she pulled it away from him, “Leave me alone.” She hissed angrily.

He blinked at her in surprise wondering what he had done to make her so angry.

Aragorn walked over and crouched down next to her and was quickly followed by Legolas who stood silently nearby.

“Why are you crying, Lady Rebecca?” he asked softly.

Rebecca looked up and furiously tried to blink away her tears. It took a few minutes and a couple of deep breaths before she could speak. This man was so different from the men she knew. He was strong and rugged, yet he also seemed kind and gentle. She had never known anyone quite like that before. She glanced behind him to Legolas and remembered how he had asked her to trust him and that she was safe with all of them. “I’m just so scared...I...I don’t know any of you...” her voice dropped off to a whisper, “or where I am...and I hurt...” she stopped to wipe away a few more tears.

Aragorn laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “I’m sure that this is a very frightening experience for you, Lady Rebecca and I wish I could help you with that, but I cannot. As Legolas told you earlier, we will not hurt you. You can trust us and we will protect you while you are here.”

“I can, however, do something about the pain you are in. For both you and Thomas.” He glanced over at Thomas, who was looking at him with surprise. “I can see the pain in your eyes. I am a very experienced healer, Thomas.” He glanced back at Legolas with a smirk, “Do you not agree mellon nín?”

“Yes, Aragorn, you have had lots of practice as a healer.” Legolas let out a small sigh and looked off into the woods.

“Ah, Legolas, but are you not at least a tiny bit thankful for my talent?” Aragorn teased as he worked on making the herbal tea for Rebecca and Thomas.

“I believe it is your various ‘talents’ in the first place that gets us into trouble so that you have to use your healing skills on me,” Legolas growled in annoyance.

“Mellon nín, I remember that it was you that one time who suggested that we take that trail. It was not my fault that there was orcs hiding in ambush...” Aragorn continued to talk to and tease Legolas, hoping to take Rebecca’s and Thomas’s minds off their situation, even for a little while.

“My fault? How could that be my fault? I have used that trail for centuries and there have never been orcs there. I take you with me once and orcs show up. I think taking you with me was the problem, mellon.” Legolas’s lips started to curve up in a slow smile.

Aragorn laughed as he handed a cup to both Thomas and Rebecca who had been watching and listening to the conversation with puzzled faces trying to understand the strange words.

“Drink this and then I want both of you to rest. We have a long way to travel tomorrow.”

“Where are you taking us?” Rebecca asked, fear evident in her voice, though her tears had now stopped.

“You are going to have to travel with us; we cannot linger here any longer. There are no villages around here for hundreds of miles and it would not be safe to leave you here.”

Thomas finally asked the question that had been running through his mind, “How do we get home?”

“I know not and I do not think Gandalf does either. For now you will come with us until we can find a safe place for you to stay.”

Thomas and Rebecca both nodded, knowing they had no other options. They couldn’t stay here and at least they would be safe with this group.

“Now, I want you both to lie down and rest.”

0-0-0-0-0

TBC…

Elvish Translations:

mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 4 - Learning

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 4 – Learning

It was dark when Rebecca woke. The only light came from the embers of the fire. She stretched her legs and uninjured arm trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to disturb the others. Quietly, she pulled her legs from the blanket someone had lain over her and stood up intending to look for some water, knowing it had been in some kind of a pouch.

Suddenly, she felt something touch her shoulder. She was starting to scream when a hand was clasped firmly over her mouth and the grip on her shoulder tightened. Rebecca stood there frozen in shock and fear when a voice whispered softly in her ear, "It is Legolas, Lady Rebecca. Forgive me, I did not mean to frighten you. I am going to take my hand away from your mouth now, but you cannot scream. Do you understand?"

Rebecca nodded and Legolas slowly removed his hand. He moved around in front of her, though she barely saw him in the darkness. "Why did you do that?" she whispered, rather harshly in her fear. "Where did you come from anyway? I didn't even hear you. You really scared me." Legolas put his fingers on her lips to stop the flow of words.

"Shh, you will wake the others. Please, forgive me," his voice was apologetic. "I was on watch and saw you get up and came to talk with you. Elves make no noise when they walk. I could not let you scream for it would wake the others and it might attract unwanted...visitors to our camp." Legolas said hesitantly.

"What do you watch for? Aragorn said there were no villages around here... are there dangerous animals?"

"Yes, there are several different types of dangerous animals. Now, why did you get up?" Legolas asked, clearly changing the subject.

"I couldn't sleep anymore and then I was thirsty... but I don't know where to get water."

"I will get you some, wait here." He helped her sit back down and moved off. Rebecca heard nothing as he left. Not the sound of his feet touching the ground or the small crunch of twigs. There was absolutely no noise. How is it possible for anyone to move like that, I wonder if it is some kind of magic, she thought, shaking her head. And then he was beside her once again and though she now knew he made no noise, she was still startled and jumped slightly.

"How do you do that? Walk without making noise? Is it magic?" She asked as she took the waterskin from Legolas and took a long drink.

"It is the way of my people and is not magic, though many mortals call it such" he said quietly. "I also have eyesight and hearing that is superior to men, but that too is the way I was created and is not magic."

This was said in such a matter of fact tone that Rebecca could tell he was not really bragging, but still she was a little annoyed. "What do you mean by better eyesight and hearing? How far can you see or hear?"

She could hear the amusement in his voice as he replied. "Well, right now, I can see your face quite clearly even in the little glow from the fire and I can tell you are most annoyed with me. Ah, no need to look away! I can see the details on your cloak, 6 fastenings of some kind..."

"Buttons."

"Buttons, that have little cross marks on them. Six buttons on the front of your cloak, one on each sleeve. There is a hood with rabbit fur and ties hanging down from in..."

"Okay, okay, I get the idea. You can see really well in the dark. I can hardly see my hand in front of my face," Rebecca sighed. "It is so strange here, elves, hobbits, dwarves. Can hobbits see and hear like you? They have pointed ears."

Legolas laughed softly at that. "No, only the firstborn, the elves, are gifted such. Those that came after, the second born, men, dwarves and hobbits did not receive those gifts from Eru."

Rebecca nodded, knowing he would see her, but this talk of firstborn and gifts and Eru was getting way too confusing. I wonder who or what an Eru is, her mind starting to overflow with questions. "Legolas, I don't understand all of this. I'm just too tired..." she yawned and rubbed her eyes, "right now, but I would like to hear more sometime. Maybe we could talk in the morning?"

"When we have time, we will talk about all of this Lady Rebecca. However, it will not be in the morning, as we will leave quite early. You and Thomas have a lot to learn about our history and our ways. I would be honored to teach you, though I am sure that Gandalf, Boromir or Aragorn would be willing to teach you as well. Now, I think you need to get some rest, it will be a long day for you tomorrow."

"I am quite tired now and I think I could sleep again. Thank you for the water and talking to me. But please try not to scare me like that again!" Rebecca said.

"Again, I am sorry and I will try not to startle you in the future. Good-night, Lady Rebecca." He got up and walked off without a sound.

"Good-night, Legolas."

0-0-0-0-0

Morning came early as Aragorn and Gandalf were eager to push on to make up for the lost day. Breakfast was cold and hurried, much to the dismay of the hobbits.

Aragorn came to check on Thomas and Rebecca before they moved out. "I need to change your bandages before we leave. It should only take a few minutes. Sit on the rock there," he motioned to Thomas.

Thomas was feeling good this morning, he had some stiffness in his neck and shoulders, but his legs and arms were relatively pain free. His head ached a little, but there was no nausea and he was looking forward to a nice walk.

Aragorn first unwrapped the bandage from his head and checked the two cuts there. He was pleased to see that both seemed to be healing well. He applied more of the salve he had mixed and put on a fresh bandage. "Now, Thomas, off with your shirt and let me check your shoulder."

Thomas was embarrassed to remove his shirt in front of everyone, especially Rebecca, though he didn't show it, keeping a stoic look on his face. He knew he shouldn't feel that way, he was strong and well-built compared to most boys his age, but he couldn't compete with the men around here now. He also had a fairly long scar on the left side of his chest and stomach where he had run into a barbed wire fence and he thought it was ugly. But Rebecca wasn't paying any attention to him as she was talking to Gimli and Boromir.

"All right, Thomas all done now." Aragorn smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "These are healing well and I think in a few days we'll be able to leave off the bandages. Are you in pain?”

"No, my neck is a little stiff, but I'm ready for a good walk." Thomas replied as he put his shirts back on.

Aragorn just smiled faintly, knowing that he had no idea what the day ahead would bring and his idea of a good walk would be different at the end of the day. He swiftly looked him up and down noting that he had on some type of sensible boots, strange blue leggings, two shirts – one white and one a long-sleeved green and black tunic type and then the heavy cloak. Well, at least he would be warm.

Aragorn turned to Rebecca, "Lady Rebecca, come, it is time to change your bandages." As she walked over Aragorn looked her over noticing that she was dressed much the same as Thomas, though her boots did not seem as study and that worried him. The cloak was a different style, more feminine and a light green color. She wore the same blue leggings and a white shirt of a heavy material. Of course, both of their shirts and cloaks had numerous rips and tears from their injuries, but it could not be helped. He sighed, thinking of the road ahead and hoping they would be able to protect them, but more importantly, that Thomas and Rebecca would not interfere with their mission.

"I'm ready, Aragorn" Rebecca said softly from right in front of him. She hadn't wanted to disturb him since he seemed to be thinking deeply about something, but she knew how anxious they were to leave.

Aragorn looked down at her and smiled before gesturing to her to sit on the rock that Thomas had vacated. He changed the bandage on her chin and removed her wrist carefully from its sling, "How does this feel?"

"It's fine." She answered shortly as she looked away.

Aragorn carefully took her chin and turned her face back to him. "Lady Rebecca, you need to tell me the truth. If it hurts then I can give you something for the pain. It also speeds the healing process." He paused briefly, "I would also have you tell me the truth in anything that I ask you. I need to be able to trust you just as I want you to trust me." He looked into her eyes searchingly for a moment and then let her chin go.

Rebecca nodded and whispered, "I don't want to be a bother, Aragorn. I know you are in a hurry to leave. I'm sorry."

"It is no bother. I would not have you in pain when I could prevent it. Your feet will be in enough pain by the end of this day!" he chuckled lightly.

Rebecca smiled as Aragorn went to make his special tea, again trying to figure him out. Pippin took that moment to come bouncing over, figuring she needed some company.

"So, Lady Rebecca, how are you this fine morning?"

"A little sore, to be honest," after her conversation with Aragorn she vowed to be honest with all of them. "Aragorn is making me some of his tea."

Pippin shuddered, “That's horrible, foul-tasting stuff."

"I heard that." Aragorn called over.

"I knew you would, Strider, that why I said it!" Pippin said with a huge grin and laugh.

"Strider?"

"Yes, Strider," Merry answered her question as he, Frodo and Sam all strolled over to talk with her while waiting for her tea. "Our Aragorn has many names, he does."

"Why?"

Frodo shot a warning glance at Pippin before answering Rebecca's question. "Aragorn has just lived a long life and in lots of different places and sometimes he's had to go by different names is all."

Rebecca had seen the glance that Frodo had given Pippin and wondered what it meant, but figured that maybe it was best not to ask. In her world it was usually only bad people or criminals that changed their names. But she was already beginning to trust Aragorn and knew he was not a bad person, so there was something more about this that they would not or could not tell her. "Hmm, sounds interesting, I'll have to ask him about it sometime if we ever have the time to actually sit down and talk." She smiled at the hobbits.

They were interrupted by Aragorn handing Rebecca the herbal tea, which she quickly downed and the return of Legolas, who had been scouting ahead. Evidently the trail ahead was clear so the Fellowship picked up their packs and headed out. Thomas and Rebecca looked at each other, shrugged and followed along behind the hobbits. Aragorn led the way, followed by Gandalf, Gimli, the hobbits, Thomas and Rebecca, with Boromir and Legolas bringing up the rear. Legolas would sometimes disappear into the woods, as he would move ahead of the group to check the trail or to check on things that only he heard or saw.

Rebecca and Thomas talked quietly as they walked along, the woods were fairly open and they were able to walk alongside each other.

"Where are we going, Thomas? Did anyone tell you?"

"No one told me anything about where we are headed. I guess to some town or something. I didn't think to ask anyone... too many other things on my mind." He gave Rebecca a wan smile.

"I know what you mean. I still don't understand all this and how we got here and all. It's all so confusing and scary."

"It has to be something to do with the bus. Something happened. Do you remember that loud noise?"

Rebecca nodded her head slowly. "Yes... I could see out the window a little too. There was so much snow... There was something on the road in front of us I think."

"I think the driver was yelling and people were screaming..." Thomas's voice dropped off.

"I remember that now..." Rebecca whispered. "I closed my eyes and then I woke up here."

"Yeah, that sounds just about how I remember it too."

"It's funny; I've read books about this kind of thing happening to people. It always sounds like such an adventure and so exciting. They don't tell you how scary and alone you feel. I miss my mom." Tears started rolling down her face but she ignored them and just kept walking, staring at the path ahead.

Thomas wanted to ask her more about these books she read, wondering if the people got to go home at the end at the end of them. But with her crying he didn't know what to say so just kept walking.

"How are you two doing?" Boromir's voice boomed in their ears, making them both jump.

"Fine, sir."

"I'm doing... all right." Rebecca replied with just a slight sniffle.

"Good, we have a long road ahead of us with not many stops for rest."

"Boromir, where are we going?"

Boromir hesitated, "We are headed to my city, Minas Tirith. It is the largest city in Gondor and it is a beautiful place." He said with a slight smile and a far-away look in his eyes.

"What's it like there?"

"Well, Lady Rebecca, It shimmers whitely in the sun, standing tall and proud against Mount Mindolluin. There are seven rings that make up the city that start at the valley floor and climb up the mountain until you arrive at the Citadel on the top. The view is breathtaking from there, across the Pelennor, to the River Anduin, Osgiliath..." he paused and frowned at that point.

"You are a poet!" Rebecca exclaimed, staring at him.

Boromir smiled the first genuine smile that either Thomas or Rebecca had seen from him. "No, Lady Rebecca, but I love my city and my people very much and I have been gone a long time and I miss my home."

Rebecca ducked her head. "That I can understand," she said softly.

"Forgive me. I did not mean to bring up such a painful subject for you."

"It’s all right, Boromir. We'll be fine, won't we Thomas?"

"Sure," Thomas replied in a wooden voice glancing off into the forest.

"Well, when we arrive, I will enjoy showing you around my city. I think you will like it there."

"Does everyone live there?" Thomas motioned to the rest of the Fellowship.

"No, no, I am the only one. Though Aragorn might someday I suppose," he mused. "But the hobbits live in The Shire, Legolas in his Kingdom of Mirkwood, Gimli in the Lonely Mountain, and Gandalf and Aragorn have mostly been wanderers."

"Legolas has a kingdom? Is he a king?" Rebecca asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

"No, I am not a king!" Legolas called from behind them.

Thomas and Rebecca turned and stared back at him in disbelief.

"How did you hear us from way back there?" Thomas asked incredulously.

"Keep walking, keep walking, we need to catch up with the others." Legolas motioned them on as he moved alongside them. "As I told Lady Rebecca last night elves have superior hearing. Do you believe me now?" He teased gently.

"I believed you before... well, mostly I did. I guess seeing it with my own eyes proves it."

"What other skills do elves have?" Thomas asked, looking at Legolas quickly before turning his eyes back on the trail in front of him.

"Oh, they're too numerous to list." Boromir said dryly. "But superior eyesight, hearing and making no noise when they move top the list."

"Wow."

"Thank you, Boromir, for reducing elvish superiority to three simple things when all know that it encompasses so much more. But, alas we do not have the time now to discuss them." Legolas smiled, though there was a small glint of something in his eye that Thomas could not define and it was quickly gone.

"You are quite welcome." Boromir replied with a short bow and a slight smirk.

Rebecca wanted to get the conversation back on track; this was way too interesting to stop. "So, you are not a king? But Boromir said something about a kingdom."

"No, my father is the king." Legolas replied simply as his eyes continued to scan the woods as he talked, always aware of their surroundings and alert for any danger.

"That would make you the prince," Rebecca pointed out.

"Yes, it does."

"You'll get to be king someday."

"Probably not," Legolas smiled down at Rebecca's puzzled face.

"Why not?" Thomas asked, as confused as Rebecca. "In our world, the prince always becomes the king when his father dies. Is it different here?"

Legolas looked down at them with a smile, "One thing Lord Boromir forgot to mention," he glanced at Boromir, "was that elves are immortal. We do not die. We can be killed in battle, but we do not die of natural causes. So my father will be king and I will remain a prince."

"I'm getting a headache." Thomas muttered, rubbing his hand across his eyes.

"We can stop! Aragorn can make you something for that," Legolas said quickly.

Thomas smiled faintly at the look on Legolas and Boromir's faces. "I'm fine. I meant a headache in the sense that there is so much to learn here."

Legolas stared at Thomas intently, "There is, Thomas,” he said softly. “You will learn it in time. For now, it is probably best if we save our breath to conserve our energy for walking. Later, I will tell you some secrets about our friend, Lord Boromir."

Ignoring the glare he received from Boromir, Legolas smiled at Rebecca and Thomas as he dropped back to his place at the end of the group of walkers. Boromir, meanwhile, motioned Thomas and Rebecca ahead of him without saying another word and they obediently moved into place in front of him and behind the hobbits.

As he walked along, Thomas barely noticed his surroundings as he pondered all he had seen, heard and learned since he had arrived. While he would never admit it to anyone, he was scared. Scared of this place and why he was here, of course. But also wondering if he was tough enough and strong enough to survive here. These men carried swords and bows and that scared him. That could only mean that things were dangerous. As he thought about these things, he realized that he would just have to be strong and that the first thing he would need to do was learn how to use some kind of a weapon, and he decided he would ask Aragorn to teach him. With that settled, Thomas looked around, again noticing his surroundings.

Rebecca continued to think about what Legolas had told them about elves being immortal, it was so hard for her to grasp. Wondering how an elf could never die, wondering how old he was. She was turning back to ask him when she saw Boromir's raised eyebrow and slight frown so she turned back around and hurried forward. As the morning wore on, she started to think about why she and Thomas were in middle earth, if there was a purpose or just random chance. In all the books Rebecca had read about this kind of time travel or whatever this was, there was always some big goal to be accomplished. Then the 'heroes' got to go home or they fell in love and started a new life and lived happily ever after. She could see Thomas being a hero, because he was strong and looked brave, but she didn’t understand why anyone would bring her here. Rebecca knew she wasn’t some brave heroine type of person. She liked to read and she worked in a coffee shop, not exactly your typical hero type material. Rebecca was so caught up in her thoughts that she stumbled over a tree root.

"Careful, Lady Rebecca." Boromir cautioned as he caught her before she could fall.

"Thank you, Boromir; I guess I wasn't paying attention." Rebecca's checks flushed red with embarrassment.

"You need to keep alert, we do not want you to hurt yourself again."

"Yes, sir I will"

Why do I keep doing that? Rebecca scolded herself inwardly. Uncle Peter was always telling me I needed to keep my head out of the clouds and my feet on the ground, Rebecca frowned as she thought of the man who had been the only father she had known for most of her life.

Hours passed and Thomas and Rebecca were starting to really drag. They had never done this kind of walking and their numerous injuries were taking their toll as well.

Rebecca was starting to wonder if they would ever take a break. Her feet were killing her. Thinking that they might not take a break until lunchtime, and scared that they might not even take a break until dinner and knowing she would never make it that long, Rebecca decided to ask Boromir. "Ah, Boromir, do we ever take breaks?" Rebecca looked back at him.

Thomas glanced back as well, thinking the same thing, but he would never ask.

"We should be stopping for lunch shortly, Lady Rebecca." Boromir replied, glancing up at the sun.

"Okay, I can make it," she said, determined not to slow them down.

It was at least another hour before Aragorn called a stop. Rebecca and Thomas dropped, exhausted to the ground leaning back against a log. Aragorn looked at them with pity before turning to talk with Gandalf in a low voice. "What do we do? How can we go on with them like that?"

"I know, Aragorn, yet we must keep moving. They will just have to keep up. We wasted a whole day yesterday that we could ill afford." His voice softened at the look in Aragorn's eye. "Let's rest an hour before we move on. That will give them time to recover their strength, they are young..."

"And injured and lost... but you are right, Gandalf. We must keep moving." He sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair, "It just sits ill with me to press on with them in their state."

Aragorn walked over and crouched down next to Thomas and Rebecca. "How are you two holding up?" he asked softly. He took Rebecca's hand and rubbed it gently with sword callused fingers.

Rebecca looked at him, again surprised at his gentle ways. "I'm f... she started to say 'fine' automatically, but remembering their earlier conversation, she stopped herself in time "tired and my feet and legs hurt," she quickly amended.

"How about your wrist?"

"It's all right... little sore I guess," she added after Aragorn raised his eyebrow in question. He smiled and turned to Thomas.

"And you, Thomas, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, sir. I'll be ready to go again after I've rested here for a little while."

Aragorn looked him over with experienced eyes. He had spent many years working with young men eager to prove their worth to their Ranger Chieftain and he was not easily fooled.

"Hmm, fine are you. You do not quite look it to me, Thomas." Aragorn put his hand under his chin and tilted his head looking closely into his eyes. "Have you been dizzy at all while we walked?"

"A little bit, sir." Thomas admitted looking down.

"You know I can help you with that, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you should have told me right away." Aragorn's voice, though it remained quiet, held a hint of steel as he spoke. "Thomas, it does no good to hide your pain from me when you can be helped. If we had to stop again down the trail because you were sick, I would be most upset with you if it was something I could have helped you with now and you had not told me because your pride would not let you. There are times when you just have to keep going through your pain and fight on... this is not one of those times. It does not mean that you are not brave, Thomas, if you tell me you are dizzy or in pain. Now, you two rest and eat whatever Sam is passing out while I make you some very tasty tea" he teased as he walked away.

Rebecca watched and listened quietly as Aragorn talked to Thomas. Saw him go from kind to stern and back to teasing all in the space of a few minutes. She was suddenly glad that since she was here in this strange place, that she had someone like him here. He made her feel safe.

Thomas leaned back and closed his eyes thinking about Aragorn's words as he slowly drifted asleep. Sam, handing out bread and more of the dried meat nudged him awake. Looking at the meat and started to eat it, he absently wondered what kind of animal it came from. He ate quickly and then drank the herbal tea with a grimace that made Aragorn grin.

Time passed much too quickly and they were soon up and moving again. The trail quickly became much more difficult to navigate, as they had to cross several steep hills and the trees grew closer together. They had to push through brush and scramble over fallen logs. Rebecca had the hardest time with her arm in a sling. Several times Boromir actually picked her up and carried her over things. At other times, he or Thomas helped her over or under things blocking the way.

As careful as Rebecca was, she still hit her wrist several times during the afternoon and each time it brought tears to her eyes, and she began chanting to herself, I won't complain, I won't complain, I won't complain. Finally, though, she hit it once too often and she let out a gasp of pain.

"Oh, Aragorn help..." she cried and fell to her knees.

Aragorn stopped and hurried back to see what had happened. The others also gathered around, except for Legolas who stood to the side alert and watching for danger.

"What happened, Lady Rebecca?"

"I hit it again," she held out her wrist, her voice full of pain, "and it hurts."

"I am sorry," Aragorn pulled her gently to her feet. "Let me look at it." He paused and looked at the position of the sun and then over at Thomas, giving him a searching look. "Gandalf, what do you think, should we stop for the night?"

Gandalf nodded, "We may as well. Lady Rebecca's wrist needs tending and it has been a long day for our two young ones." He turned to the others and directed them in the setting up of the camp.

While Aragorn directed Rebecca to a log closer to the camp, Boromir put his arm companionably across Thomas's shoulders, "Come, Thomas, help me gather a bit a wood for the fire."

"Yes, sir." Thomas sighed inwardly, all he wanted to do was go to sleep. But he also wanted to help out and he couldn't let Boromir down. At least this would be easy since there were sticks littering the ground everywhere.

They found the few sticks and logs they need before joining the group gathering around the small fire. Sam was setting out his cooking utensils while Merry already had a small pot of water over the flames. Pippin and Frodo were getting food from various packs while Gandalf and Gimli had already pulled out their pipes and were contentedly puffing away.

Thomas sat down near the log where Aragorn was looking at Rebecca's wrist and put his head in his hands. Aragorn had removed the tightly wrapped wrist from the sling and was holding it gently with one hand while he gingerly prodded it with his other. Rebecca hissed in pain and Aragorn placed a comforting hand on her knee. "Forgive me, but I need to see if you re-broke it or if the bones slipped out of place when you hit it. But it feels all right. Lady Rebecca, all I can do for this injury is keep it wrapped tightly and give you something for the pain, only time can heal it. If we were at my home, you would not be moving around. But we have no choice, and I am sorry for that."

"Too bad you don't have casts here." Thomas murmured.

Aragorn looked at him, "What is a cast?"

"Oh, it's something doctors use in our world for broken bones. It starts as these wet strips of something..."

"I think it's plaster-of-paris" Rebecca broke in.

"That sounds right. Anyway, they wrap these wet strips in layers around the broken area – lots of layers. Then it dries and it's really hard. So hard you have to cut it off. You still have to be sort of careful, but not like this."

Aragorn narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, wondering if there was anything in middle earth he could use like that. I will have to ask Adar sometime. "That would be a wonderful thing to have. Unfortunately, we do not have it here. We will have to use this wrap and the sling. How are you doing, Thomas?" Aragorn looked at him closely.

"I'm not dizzy anymore. Just very tired, sore, and hungry." Thomas actually let out a small laugh as he stomach growled just at that time.

Aragorn chuckled as well, "Well, Sam is making supper. You two rest for now and I will make some tea for Lady Rebecca."

Rebecca frowned at the thought of that, but knew it would help. She and Thomas sat there watching and listening to the others talking and moving quietly around the camp, but neither of them joined in as they were both too tired. She realized Legolas was gone again and she wondered where he had disappeared to, though she supposed he was out scouting or guarding the camp.

Aragorn was approaching with her tea, and she scowled slightly. She realized she had to go to the bathroom. It was so hard having these men take her into the woods and wait for her these past couple of days. And they all had, except for Gandalf and the hobbits, taken her at least once. They were always perfect gentlemen and she knew they were concerned about her safety, though keeping her safe from what she didn't know, but still, it was so embarrassing. Thomas had it easy and it made her wish that she were a guy. She sighed. Aragorn handed her the tea.

"Thank you, Aragorn... may I go in the woods and..." she stopped at the frown on his face.

"Lady Rebecca, I thought we had settled this. You cannot go in the woods alone. It is not safe."

"Why isn't it safe? What is out there?" Rebecca asked in frustration.

Those gathered at the fire looked up at her tone and slightly raised voice.

Aragorn hesitated as he crouched down in front of her. He did not want to scare her unnecessarily, but decided it was best she knew the truth so that she did not foolishly wander off on her own. "There are creatures that would try and... kill you." He paused as her eyes widened in shock. "I am not trying to scare you, but you need to know the truth. I do not want to see you hurt." He stopped there deciding that this was not the time to talk about Sauron and the battle against evil.

"Will you teach me to use a sword?" Thomas suddenly asked from where he had been sitting quietly listening.

Aragorn gave him an appraising look. He knew he was strong, he had noticed the well developed muscles while he was tending his wounds. He had also seen the scar and had wondered if it was some kind of wound from a weapon. Aragorn also thought it would be a good idea to teach him some basic sword moves because of the uncertainty of the path ahead of them. Having two people who could not defend themselves would make an already difficult task almost impossible. He glanced over at Boromir, who nodded.

"I think that would be a good idea. Boromir and I will teach you. Have you ever used or held one before?"

"No, we don't use them anymore in my world. I have used a bow and arrow though, just for fun."

"That is a start though, Legolas can teach..."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Aragorn, but I still need to go into the woods," Rebecca looked away, embarrassed.

"Forgive me, Lady Rebecca, I had forgotten." He gave her a slight bow and helped her to her feet before leading her into the woods.

"Come and join us, lad. Dinner is almost ready," Gimli called to Thomas.

Thomas slowly climbed to his feet, surprised that he could move after the long day of walking. But he was hungry and whatever Sam was cooking smelled awfully good after the dried meat and bread. He sat down between Pippin and Gimli and yawned tiredly.

"If you fall asleep before supper, may I eat your food?" Pippin asked with an ear-splitting grin.

"Pippin!” Both Frodo and Merry scolded at the same time, while Gandalf and Gimli just chuckled.

"Thomas, you will soon learn that hobbits, especially our good Pippin here, want to eat all the time." Gandalf explained. "If they are not eating, then they are talking about food, planning their next meal and so forth."

"Now, Mr. Gandalf, sir that is not entirely true." Merry protested. “We don't only talk about food. We also love to talk about pipe-weed and ale!" Everyone laughed again.

"I beg your pardon, Master Merry, for of course you are correct,” the wizard said with a slight nod.

Aragorn and Rebecca soon rejoined the others around the fire and they ate a simple meal and talked quietly. Thomas and Rebecca were soon nodding off due to their sheer exhaustion and because they did not understand most of the discussion. As the sun set, Aragorn sent Rebecca, Thomas and the hobbits to bed, which they did without protest.

As soon as they were all asleep, Aragorn asked the others the question on his mind. "How much do we tell them? Even if we do not tell them of the ring, do we tell them of Sauron? The road ahead is dangerous and I do not know what is best to do here. They will be drawn into battles with us, I can feel it. Do they not have a right to know? Boromir, Gandalf, Gimli, and Legolas did not answer immediately, nor did he expect them to. It was something that required some time and thought.

Boromir spoke up first, "I think we should tell them. If it were me, I would want to know all of the dangers that I faced."

“I agree," said Legolas. "There is also something about them that seems almost older than their true ages. I know not what it is, but I think they will be able to handle this better than we think. I think not knowing would be harder, for they will suspect something. Like the way Lady Rebecca is frustrated when we take her to the woods, but will not tell her why or what could be there to hurt her."

Gimli nodded, "Aye, lad that makes sense, even if it is coming from an elf," he smirked.

Legolas just glared at him and looked at Gandalf. They all waited for him to speak, knowing he would ultimately make the final decision.

"I think you are all correct," he said slowly. "They need to be told, even of the ring, I think." The others exchanged shocked glances. "I know, I know. But they are here for some purpose, even if we do not yet know what it is. It may be that one of them will be able to protect Frodo in some way that we cannot. I do not have all the answers, but the Valar have sent them for some reason. In any case, I think we need to tell them. I agree with Legolas, there is something older about them. As if they have seen much in their young lives. I will talk to them as we walk along tomorrow."

The others nodded, relieved. It would make things much easier if Thomas and Rebecca knew of their journey and destination so that they could be prepared for the dangers ahead. That decided, they settled down for the night.

0-0-0-0-0

After breakfast and a change in bandages for both Thomas and Rebecca they started off again. Legolas had tried to work with Thomas on his archery skills, but his shoulder wound hindered him too much.

Rebecca and Thomas, while still extremely tired, felt refreshed after a good nights sleep and talked quietly as they walked along.

"So, when's your birthday, Rebecca?"

"June 29, 1937. Yours?"

"That's close to mine, though a year later. June 21, 1936."

"Do you have a big family or... would you rather not talk about it?" She thought she saw a flicker of something cross his face as she asked, but she couldn't be sure or tell what it meant.

"Nah, I don't mind," he shrugged. "I live with my mom and my younger brother... my dad died in the war. In '45 in Germany." He spoke without looking at her and his voice was tired and sad.

Rebecca laid her hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I understand, though. My father died in '44." She looked away lost in thought for a minute and then shook herself and returned to the conversation. "My mom and I moved in with her brother and his wife and their 6 kids. So mom could work. It’s so noisy there," she said with a small frown.

"I'll bet." Thomas gave her a slight grin and a sideways glance before looking ahead again. "I quit school a few years ago and got a job on a horse ranch near Lakeside so we wouldn't lose the house. Mom couldn't make enough money after the war..."

"Times have been tough. I got an after school job last year to help out too. I'll graduate next year and then I can work full time." She sighed, not telling him of her dreams of going to college and becoming a writer. Maybe someday it would happen. "But, looking on the bright side, I get to wear one of those wonderfully colorful pink Riverton Coffeeshop uniforms!" She laughed out loud, causing all of the hobbits to turn and look back, smiling at her. Thomas chuckled, "Yeah, those are..."

"Thomas, Lady Rebecca, would you please join me?" Gandalf suddenly called from the front of the line. Rebecca and Thomas exchanged worried glances, each wondering if they had done something wrong. They quickened their pace and passed the hobbits, coming alongside Gandalf.

"Now, young ones, I have a long story to tell you about our journey and other events that are going on in middle earth. We discussed this last night and felt that you needed to know as much as possible."

Thomas and Rebecca looked at each other, pleased that they would finally have some answers to their questions.

So, for the next couple of hours as they walked along, Gandalf explained some of the history of middle earth, the story of the rings of power, about Sauron and about the quest that they had been thrust into. They also learned about orcs, wolves, wargs, and other evil creatures that patrolled the wilds and kept them alert for danger at all times. Thomas and Rebecca glanced at each other many times during the telling, shaking their heads in disbelief at each new revelation of evil.

Thomas listened quietly as Gandalf talked, but Rebecca interrupted several times with questions. It reminded them way too much of the recent war in their own world and it was scary to think that now they were right in the midst of one.

For Thomas, it made him even more determined to learn some kind of skill with weapons so that he would not be unprepared. He needed to be able to protect himself, Rebecca and others. After hearing the story of the ring and looking at Frodo and the hobbits, he wanted to help them in any way he could. For some reason they reminded him of his little brother. He couldn’t believe that these little hobbits could be expected to fight these monsters that Gandalf was describing.

It affected Rebecca in a different way than Thomas. It made her mad. She hated bullies of any sort and was tired of madmen bent on taking over the world – any world. She was too young to help in the one in her world, but she sure wanted to help in this one, even though right now she didn't have a clue how she would do that.

Gandalf continued with his story, "Now, what I do not know is why you were sent here by the Valar..."

"The Valar?" Thomas asked.

"The Valar oversee all that happens on Middle Earth for Eru."

"Must be like their God," Rebecca said. Thomas nodded.

"Yes, well, the Valar must have had a reason for bringing you here even if I do not yet know what that is. I am sure it will be revealed in time. Now, do you have any questions?"

Thomas and Rebecca both shook their heads. There was way too much to process right now. Questions would come later.

"Good. If you have questions later, speak to Aragorn or myself." He nodded, clearly dismissing them.

They slowed down and fell in line again behind the hobbits, neither of them noticing the friendly smiles the hobbits gave them so lost were they in their own thoughts.

0-0-0-0-0

TBC…

Elvish translations:

Adar - Father


Chapter 5 - Swordplay

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 5 - Swordplay

The break for lunch was short and the food was cold. The trail they had traveled since breakfast had steadily grown steeper as they continued their climb through the heavily forested foothills of the Misty Mountains. A rapidly approaching storm caused Aragorn to push the group hard as he wanted to reach a decent shelter for the night.

Thomas and Rebecca sat apart from the others eating quietly, Rebecca especially was too exhausted to talk even though both had many questions after talking with Gandalf. The pace and the steep terrain took all of their energy. Even eating was a chore. Rebecca was having the hardest time as her wrist continued to throb. As careful as she was, it got bumped while she was walking. Even without the injury, however, she wasn't used to walking miles and miles a day. Thomas's injuries were healing fine and he wasn't in pain except for an occasional twinge from his stitches. He was in good physical shape... well, at least by earth standards. But working on a horse ranch, where most of the work was done from the back of a horse did not prepare him for the continual walking and the demanding pace that Aragorn set. In time both would adjust, but for now, with the physical and emotional pain they were in, it was hell.

Aragorn came to check on them before they set out again. "How are you two doing?" he asked, looking at them kindly, noticing Thomas's dropped head and Rebecca's closed eyes.

Rebecca jumped and her eyes shot open. She gave him an embarrassed smile as Thomas answered him.

"I'm... pretty tired sir, but I'll be all right," Thomas said firmly looking him straight in the eye.

Aragorn smiled slightly and gave him a brief nod before turning to Rebecca. "And you, Lady Rebecca?"

Rebecca sighed. "Well, if I would just stop hitting my hand on every tree in this forest," her voice trailed off. "You know what would really help me, Aragorn?" she asked in her most serious voice.

"What?"

"A nice warm bath and a big soft bed in my own private room, with nice lacy curtains on the windows and some pretty flowers. Oh, and a nice hot meal. Is there somewhere around here we can go for something like that? That would help me the most." Rebecca watched as Aragorn's eyebrows just rose higher and higher as he listened to her description in disbelief. Finally she couldn't take it anymore and she started to giggle. "I'm just kidding, Aragorn. I know that stuff isn't possible, but a girl can dream, can't she?" She grinned at him. "You should have seen your face." She started laughing again and was quickly joined by Thomas.

Aragorn just shook his head and started to chuckle, "Ah, Lady Rebecca, I am glad you have a sense of humor, you will need it in the weeks ahead. Now, though, back to my original question which you did not answer." Aragorn had an amused smile on his lips, but his eyes told Rebecca that he clearly expected an answer.

Rebecca looked embarrassed. "I didn't think you'd noticed that," she mumbled. "I meant that about my wrist, but I know there isn't anything that can be done to stop…," she stopped at the frown on Aragorn's face. "I know, I know the pain medicine, but... it doesn't help me when I hit it while we are walking, Aragorn," she whispered looking away and blinking back the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. "It helps at night though, so that's good." She looked back at him and smiled wanly. "All the walking is hard because I'm not used to it, but it'll get easier... I'm sure it will. I won't let you down or hold you up. At least I'll try my hardest not to."

"That's all I or anyone can ask of you, Lady Rebecca," Aragorn said softly. "I do not know what else to do about your wrist to make it easier for you. Maybe tomorrow we can try taking it out of the sling and that might help your balance so you will not slip or fall so often. I will decide when I check on it tonight and see how it looks." He gently patted her shoulder before helping her to her feet. "We need to move on; we have a long way to go." He glanced up at the gathering clouds, "We will have rain before dark."

It did indeed start to rain a few hours before nightfall. What started as a light, drizzling rain soon settled into a steady stream that threatened to last through the night. Along with the rain came a drop in temperature that signaled the possibility of snow before morning.

As the sunlight started to fade, Aragorn did not know if the hobbits or Thomas and Rebecca would be able to continue for another hour to reach the next shelter and he wondered if he should try and find another place to rest. Though he could not think of anything closer that would shield them all from the rain. He stopped at the top of a steep incline, wringing the water from his dark hair as he waited for them to catch up. To his surprise, Thomas, though obviously struggling himself, was helping Pippin up the hill. Frodo, Merry, and Sam, who was leading the pony, were making their way steadily up the slope, but seemed to be doing well. Aragorn decided that they would all be fine for another hour.

Aragorn moved his eyes farther down the hill to Rebecca and he winced as his glance fell on her just as she slipped a little in the mud. Trying to keep from falling, she instinctively reached out to grab the nearest tree, which caused her broken wrist to hit a different tree. Rebecca grimaced in pain and muttered something under her breath. Boromir was quickly at her side trying to help. Aragorn watched as she smiled at him, shrugged and then continued up the hill.

"She doesn't give up, does she?" Legolas said, admiringly, stepping up next to Aragorn.

"No, and she does not complain." Aragorn shook his head slightly and gave his friend a small smile.

"Still, she does slow us down." Gandalf joined in from where he stood leaning on his staff.

"I do not think so, Gandalf. She keeps up with the hobbits," Legolas protested. "What would you have us do? Leave her?"

"I was merely making an observation young prince. I would never leave her out here alone, yet I do worry that the extra time it takes us now will be costly later."

"Maybe the Valar sent them so that we would slow down so that we do not get there too soon," Legolas countered.

"Peace, Legolas. Any and all things are possible and we might never know why they are here. We have no control over such things, nor control over many things that will happen in the future." Gandalf smiled at Legolas, "However we do have control over when we leave here and I suggest we do so now."

The hobbits and Thomas had just reached the crest of the hill when Aragorn, Gandalf and Legolas turned to walk on.

"Wait!" Pippin called frantically, "Don't we get a breather? You had a rest here."

"Please, we need one," said Merry, standing with his hands on hips looking at Aragorn with a pleading look in his eyes.

"Please, Strider, Mr. Frodo needs a break," Sam begged.

Thomas didn't say anything; he just stood there looking at Aragorn as he tried to catch his breath. Aragorn glanced down the hill; Rebecca was almost to the top, being helped by Boromir who was closely followed by Gimli. He hesitated for just a moment.

"You cannot sit down, you will get too wet. But we will wait for a few minutes. We still have a good hour walk ahead of us."

The hobbits groaned and even Frodo, who seldom complained, looked dismayed and shook his head.

"An hour?" cried Pippin. "Can't we just stay here?"

"No, we cannot, Pippin,” Aragorn said sternly. “There is a place ahead that has some decent shelter and that is where we are headed. I especially want to get Lady Rebecca and Thomas out of the rain... and it may snow." Aragorn added the last as he glanced up at the clouds.

Boromir, Gimli and Rebecca finally joined the rest of the Fellowship. Rebecca stood taking big deep breaths as she stared at the ground, embarrassed. She knew she had held them up and it frustrated her. If Boromir hadn't helped her she never would have made it up the hill. I'll never make it, she thought to herself with despair. But then she realized she couldn’t say that, even to herself. She wouldn’t give up even if it killed her. She laughed inwardly at herself, as she realized it just might. Rebecca sighed softly and looked up to see Boromir talking quietly with Aragorn. She jumped, startled to discover Legolas standing right next to her.

Legolas took her hand and said softly, "Forgive me Lady Rebecca, for I can see I have startled you. It was not my intention."

"I know it wasn't Legolas. Maybe I'll get used to it someday, though I doubt it," she replied.

"I wanted to let you know that we have only an hour until we make camp." He gave her a brilliant smile. "I know you will be able to make that."

"W-well, I have to, don't I?" Rebecca tripped over her words, caught up in Legolas's smile.

"Also, I want to give you my cloak. It will help"

"No, no, no... I can't take your cloak. You'll freeze," exclaimed Rebecca.

"Elves do not feel the cold, Lady Rebecca." Legolas explained patiently. "I truly do not need this." He started to put the cloak on Rebecca's shoulders.

Rebecca shrugged it off and stepped away from him. "Then why do you have it if you don't need it?" she asked skeptically. "I'm not that cold." She looked at him with narrowed eyes, noticing that a glimmer of hurt had appeared in his eyes.

By this time the rest of the Fellowship was watching the two of them with amusement. Only Gandalf looked slightly annoyed at the delay, but even he said nothing and just watched the two of them with interest.

"Lady Rebecca," and here Legolas actually sighed, "I wear this cloak to help me blend in with my surroundings – not for warmth. And I do not need the cloak to blend in with the trees right now, my shirt and tunic are fine. So, truly I do not need this. Also, I do not lie. Ever." His voice held a hint of something that Rebecca could not identify and he held out the cloak again, though he did not try to place it on her.

Rebecca realized that she had probably hurt him with her refusal to accept the cloak. With an apologetic smile, she tried to explain, "I'm sorry, Legolas, I wasn't trying to be stubborn or say you were lying. I really was worried that you would be cold and that you were just being nice to me. It would be nice to have another coat... or cloak to wear. I am cold." She stretched out her hand to take the cloak but Legolas moved around and put it on her. He put the hood up over her own and tied the strings that held it together.

"Thank you, Legolas," she said shyly not looking up at him.

"You are welcome, Lady Rebecca" he paused... "And I can just be nice to you if I want to," he whispered. He smiled at her as he walked off, while she just stared after him in confusion wondering what he meant.

The Fellowship finally moved on, eager to get to the shelter that Aragorn promised was nearby. The rain continued to slow them down and it was almost full dark before they reached the protected area where they planned to set up camp. The 'shelter' turned out to be the side of a hill with a large protruding rock overhead.

"This is a shelter, Strider?" Sam asked incredulously as he stood gaping at the rock overhang that was to be their protection from the weather.

Pippin complained loudly, "We'll still get wet from the rain blowing in."

"It is the best shelter for miles." Aragorn said shortly. "Gimli, would you start a fire? Lady Rebecca, Thomas, I want you two back under the overhang and as close to the fire as possible. I will be back to check on you in a minute. Boromir, Legolas, Gandalf, I need to talk with you."

Following slowly behind Rebecca to the rear of the shelter, Thomas stared curiously at Aragorn and the others wondering what they were discussing, if something bad has happened. He assisted Rebecca gently to the ground where she sat with her knees drawn up close to her body, her head resting on top of them with her eyes closed. She shivered as Thomas joined her, huddling close together for warmth. He looked at Rebecca with sympathy and reached over to hold her hand.

Rebecca squeezed his hand without looking up and Thomas continued to hold it as he watched Gimli light the fire. The wood was damp, which did not make is easy, but Gimli eventually had a small blaze burning. The warmth on his face felt good, but it would be a long time before he was warm and his clothes dried out.

Glancing around, he noticed that Legolas and Boromir were gone and he figured they must be out scouting or something. Aragorn and Gandalf were having some kind of deep discussion. Listening carefully he could only hear a few words over the rain and crackling fire, 'Moria' and 'Caradhras' but what those meant he had no idea. He turned back to watch the fire and his eyes slowly slid shut.

"Supper's ready!" Sam's voice jerked Thomas awake.

"Here, Thomas, Lady Rebecca." Merry handed them each a steaming plate of stew, this will help warm you up," he said cheerfully.

"Thank you, Merry." Rebecca's voice was quiet and her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the plate.

Merry gave her a swift piercing glance and hurried over to talk with Aragorn. They spoke quietly for a moment before Aragorn came back to check on Rebecca. Squeezing between the fire and the rock wall, Aragorn knelt down next to Rebecca and laid his hand on her forehead. She looked up at him with a wan smile. In spite of her shivering body and exhaustion, Aragorn was relieved to discover that she did not feel feverish, as he had feared.

"Well, Lady Rebecca. You do not have a fever. I was worried that you might after all of this cold and rain."

"I'm just very cold, Aragorn...and tired. I'll be all right in the morning." Rebecca whispered as she gave him another weak smile, trying desperately to appear strong.

Aragorn was not fooled, he knew she was in a lot of pain, but he also knew that she would have to go on in the morning. What she needed most was to get as dry as possible and rest. Smiling gently, he picked up the spoon on her plate and handed it to her. "You need to eat all of this Lady Rebecca. You have to keep up your strength."

"But I'm not hungry. I don't feel… " she stopped at the frown on Aragorn's face and the look in his eye. She sighed, "Okay, okay, Aragorn, I'll eat my dinner. You remind me of my mother sometimes,” she muttered.

Thomas let out a short laugh at this and then another at the expression on Aragorn's face.

"I remind you of your mother?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

The hobbits, Gandalf and Gimli, who had stopped talking at Thomas’s laughter looked startled at Aragorn’s question, but then started chuckling quietly.

Totally embarrassed now and her face bright red, Rebecca mumbled, "Well... uh... I meant... in helping me... like a mom does." She kept her eyes fixed on the ground the whole time she was speaking, though she shifted uncomfortably from side to side. "Moms take... care of you when you're sick... and... uh... well... I didn't mean... not in looks or anything."

The hobbits and Gimli burst into loud laughter at that point, further increasing her embarrassment. Thomas was fighting hard not to laugh since he was sitting right next to her and could see how she was feeling. Aragorn sat with an amused smile and twinkling eyes as Rebecca rambled on. He exchanged glances with Thomas who returned his grin with one of his own. Finally, Aragorn laid his hand gently on her arm to stop the flow of words.

"Lady Rebecca, I know what you meant, truly I do," he said softly, amusement evident in his voice. "I take no offense. It just surprised me. I have never been compared to a mother before"

"Oh, you have tried to mother me before, mellon nín. Legolas declared, ducking his head to walk in under the overhang and shaking the rain from his hair and clothes. "Many are the times I have been injured and you felt the need to 'mother' me back to health." Legolas smiled at Aragorn before joining in the laughter coming from the others.

"I have never 'mothered' you" Aragorn protested darkly. "You are simply a horrible patient and do not follow a healer's advice." He frowned at Legolas, though there was still a twinkle in his eyes.

Legolas just shook his head and laughed merrily before sitting down next to Gandalf at the fire. He and Gandalf started conversing quietly while he ate and the hobbits continued their never-ending discussion of the best pipe-weed.

Aragorn turned back to Rebecca. She had mostly recovered from her embarrassment and was now able to look at him, albeit a little uncertainly. Seeing his kind eyes, she gave him a tentative smile.

"You still haven't eaten, Rebecca."

"Oh!" She picked up her spoon and started eating her now cold stew, which wasn't as good, but she forced herself to eat it anyway. She suddenly realized that he had called her ‘Rebecca’ and not Lady Rebecca and she wondered why. Since she had been here they had all called her Lady Rebecca. It had been so strange, but she knew it was one of those polite things they did here – like in those medieval stories she had read. But she wondered at the sudden change, if he had heard Thomas calling her that. She thought maybe it was because he suddenly saw her as a kid because she had said that about being like her mother. Rebecca sighed inwardly, embarrassed again. As she finished her food, she started listening in as Aragorn and Thomas talked.

"... could help do some things." Thomas said earnestly. "Not scouting, I know, but I can stand watch at night and I'm ready to learn how to use a sword now."

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully, "We can use you on watch. Not tonight though." At Thomas's crestfallen look, he hastened to add, "Watches were set earlier this evening – Sam, Merry, and Boromir." Thomas nodded. "As for sword training," he paused, "it is a bit more difficult because we have little time in the mornings and evenings. Still, we will just have to take the time that is necessary. You need to be trained." Aragorn's eyes became troubled and distant, "There will be much danger ahead, I sense it."

Thomas shuddered at the tone and certainty in Aragorn's voice. Once again he worried about his abilities even if he was somewhat trained in the use of a sword or other weapons. Learning how to use a sword was not the same as actually using one to kill something... an orc he thought Gandalf had called it. But he knew he would just have to do the best he could. Mentally shrugging it off, he turned his attention back to Aragorn, who was searching through his pack.

Pulling out his spare leggings and shirt, Aragorn handed them to Thomas. "Here, put these on, the legs and sleeves will be a little long, but at least you will be dry. Then you need to get some rest, it will be another long day tomorrow."

"Yes sir, and thanks for the clothes." Thomas looked closely at the material wondering what it was made of and how strange it was to tie everything together instead of using buttons and zippers.

"Now, Rebecca, I want to check your wrist before you sleep." Aragorn noticed her eyes widen slightly as he again used just her name. He had noticed that Thomas called her that and he thought it might help her relax since she had been so embarrassed earlier. Helping her remove both Legolas's cloak and her own he was pleased to see that her shirt, while damp, was not too wet. Her leggings, however, were wet and they had nothing to fit her. Rebecca was about 5'6" and the men and Legolas were all too tall and the hobbits were too short. All he could give her were some dry socks for her sore feet.

Aragorn checked her wounds and decided to leave the bandages off as each cut had closed enough and he was running low on bandaging material. He was also growing concerned about his stock of medicinal herbs, but it could not be helped. He could only hope that he would be able to replenish his supplies before they had any more major injuries.

Examining Rebecca's wrist carefully, Aragorn could see the marks where she had banged it several times. Her fingers were also red from the cold since she could not wear her glove or put her hand in the pocket of her coat with the wrist wrapped and in a sling. "Well, Rebecca, even though I know it hurts, it does appear to be undamaged from today." Rebecca smiled slightly and nodded, not looking at him. "Would you like something for the pain? It will also help you to sleep." She nodded again. Aragorn looked at her with a puzzled frown wondering why she was not speaking to him.

As Aragorn turned to the fire to make his herbal tea he missed the soft sigh and look of relief that crossed her face. Returning from his patrol of the surrounding area, Boromir joined him at the fire. He had seen no sign of wolves or any creatures that were a threat to their safety.

Frodo was quiet again this evening, Aragorn noted. He had noticed him becoming more withdrawn the farther they had gotten from Rivendell and he knew the Ring was such a heavy burden for him. He glanced at Gandalf who had also been watching Frodo and they exchanged a knowing look and a sorrowful expression crossed Gandalf's face. But it quickly passed as he said briskly, "Come hobbits, it is time you were abed! It is growing late and the morning will be here before you know it. Sam, I believe you have first watch!"

Gimli and Boromir joined the hobbits in getting out their bedrolls while Sam wrapped his cloak tightly about himself and stepped to the edge of the overhang to keep watch. Pippin brought his bedroll and set it down next to Thomas, flinging it open carelessly.

"May I sleep here by you Thomas?"

"Oh, sure Pippin."

"Good, it will be warmer to have someone big to snuggle up against."

"Pippin." Merry hissed from behind him where he was laying out his bedroll. "That's not polite. Maybe Thomas doesn't want to have you snuggling up against him."

"Oh." Pippin looked so crestfallen that Thomas had to laugh and was soon joined by Merry and Frodo who had squeezed his bedroll in between Pippin's and Merry's.

"It's all right, Merry, I'm used to it anyway. I have a y-younger brother who used to do that, though Pippin is quite a bit shorter."

"Well, I'm not surprised, Pip is short – even for a hobbit," Merry teased his young cousin. Pippin just glared at him.

"And you are quite tall, Thomas," Frodo said looking him up and down.

"I'm not that tall."

"You're taller than Boromir."

"Really? I hadn't noticed that." Thomas said, turning to look at Boromir. "He seems so much bigger than me."

"Well, he's filled out because he's all grown up and you haven't yet so that makes him bigger, but you will too one day," Frodo observed.

Pippin finally joined the conversation. "You're not as tall as Strider or Legolas though."

Frodo snorted. "Legolas is an elf and only another elf is that tall and Aragorn has elvish blood way, way, way back so maybe that's why he's so tall."

"I'll bet you're taller than Gandalf if he's not wearing his silly hat. He's actually pretty short without it!" Frodo frowned at Pippin's comment and Thomas was opening his mouth to respond when Gandalf cleared his throat loudly and frowned at Pippin who just grinned at him. It made Thomas nervous though so he decided to lie down and go to sleep.

"Ah, don't let Gandalf scare you Thomas," Merry whispered with a grin. "He often seems gruff, but he has a kind heart."

"He just... he seems mean. He reminds me of a teacher I had once." Thomas shuddered. "If you got on his bad side you got paddled with a board."

"A teacher hit you?" Frodo asked, rolling over and staring at Thomas.

"Only once."

"Thomas, Gandalf is not like that. He will never hurt or hit you. He will scold and he does get gruff like Merry said, but you can trust him with your life. I've known him for most of my life, since I moved in with my cousin Bilbo and I trust him. Don't be frightened of him, Thomas. He is a great and wise wizard."

"A wizard?"

"Yes, didn't you know that?"

Thomas shook his head. "No, Frodo, I didn't know that. There are still lots of things I don't know." He smiled. "Anyway, I thought he was an old man. So, does he do magic and things like that?"

"He does great fireworks!" Pippin exclaimed.

Gandalf looked over from where he had been talking with Gimli and smiled.

"Keep your voice down, Pip!" Merry whispered. "Actually, Thomas, we haven't seen him do any magic though he can I guess. Mostly he's really wise and even the elves look up to him and listen to his advice.

"And that's saying something," Frodo added softly. "Now we need to get to sleep lads, Thomas. Good-night."

Though they lay down it was quite some time before they slept as the sound of quiet talking and laughter came from the pile of hobbits and Thomas as they spoke of their homes and teased one another.

0-0-0-0-0

As Aragorn finished brewing Rebecca's tea he listened to Thomas and the hobbits. He learned more about Thomas in a few minutes than he had learned in the last three days; he shook his head wondering at this change.

"Aragorn?"

"Hmm?" He looked up at Boromir's whisper to see him leaning over the fire and holding out his bedroll. Aragorn gave him a puzzled look. "What do you want me to do with that?"

Boromir continued in his softest whisper, "Give it to Lady Rebecca, but do not tell her it is from me. You saw how she reacted to Legolas today." He gave Legolas a sideways glance and a small smile that Legolas returned.

Aragorn grinned at his friends before taking the bedroll. He thought Rebecca was asleep when he turned back with the tea, but her eyes popped open as soon as he gently touched her arm. He was shocked at the slight hint of fear he saw in her eyes.

"Rebecca, what is the matter?" Aragorn whispered not wanting to disturb the hobbits and Thomas who had finally stopped talking. There was such a long pause that Aragorn did not think that she was going to answer him.

"A-are you angry with me?" Rebecca's voice was so low and hesitant that Aragorn could hardly hear it.

"Angry? Why would I be angry with you?" He asked, acting surprised at her question, but knowing that it must have something to do with what had happened earlier.

"B-because I-I embarrassed you and people laughed at you. I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry." Rebecca cleared her throat and took a deep shuddering breath.

"Truly, I am not angry with you, Rebecca." Aragorn said firmly, deciding that she might respond better to that than if he spoke gently. She seemed so young all of a sudden and it reminded him that she was only sixteen and in a very strange place with complete strangers. He knew how strong she was, he could see it in her – her determination, and how she never gave up. But still, she was very young. He suddenly realized that she was not really afraid of him as much as she was afraid of losing his friendship and care and he knew how much she was coming to depend on him in this strange place she had been thrust into.

Rebecca looked searchingly at Aragorn's face and broke into a shy smile before softly sighing. "I was so worried that you were angry."

"I could tell," he said dryly. Aragorn paused in thought, "Rebecca, you will know if I am ever upset or angry with you. I will talk to you about whatever happened to cause the problem. And you can also come and talk to me, remember?" He smiled and reached out and took her hand gently. "Do not be afraid of me either" Rebecca ducked her head at this. "Even if I am angry or upset, I will never hurt you."

"I know you wouldn't hurt me!" Rebecca looked up at him, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.

"Hmm... good. Now, that we have that finished, you need to drink this tea and go to sleep, and it is getting quite late, even the hobbits are asleep."

"Yes, sir!" Rebecca gave Aragorn a genuine smile as she took the cup. She started drinking it and then paused, "Aragorn?"

"Yes?" Aragorn raised his eyebrow and frowned, thinking that Rebecca was trying to get out of drinking the medicine.

"Why have you been calling me just Rebecca tonight?"

"I heard Thomas calling you that and I thought that is probably what you are called at home. I hoped it might make you feel more comfortable for I knew you were upset. Do you prefer Lady Rebecca?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

"Oh no, I like being called Rebecca! That is what I'm called at home. The 'lady' part makes me feel old." Aragorn smiled at that. "But I assume that here it is a polite thing to call someone so I don't mind. Though" she said thoughtfully, "shouldn't I be calling you and the others something other than just your names? Oh! Should I say Prince Legolas? And he called Boromir a Lord once... "

"Peace!" Aragorn laughed quietly. "No, just call me and the others by name. We will probably all continue to call you Lady Rebecca however. We tend to be a little more formal to ladies here. I might just call you Rebecca from time to time so that you do not feel old,” he said with a small grin. "Now, drink that and Go. To. Sleep." He gave Rebecca a mock glare.

Quickly swallowing the rest of the tea, Rebecca lay down. She wore her coat and wrapped Legolas's cloak over all hoping that even though they were wet they would provide her with some warmth. As she drifted off to sleep to the sound of the steadily falling rain, she felt someone gently laying a blanket over her.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas awoke well before sunrise. He shivered in the cold morning air, thankful that he at least had been wearing his winter coat when he came to middle earth. He smiled as he felt Pippin move next to him – at least he didn't move around as much as his brother used to. Thomas wondered if he’d ever see Johnny again and he hoped his mom and brother were all right. Thomas frowned as he thought about his family and home. Shivering again he decided to rise and move around to get warm. Moving slowly and carefully he eased his body away from Pippin and stood, tucking the blanket back around the small body. Thomas smiled as Pippin shifted closer to Merry causing all of the hobbits to move.

A small fire had been kept burning through the night so Thomas crouched down there to warm up. The rain had evidently stopped some time ago as neither the trees nor overhang were dripping. As Thomas became more fully awake he suddenly realized that Legolas and Boromir were standing out near the edge of the woods that surrounded the overhang. Thomas shook his head, muttering under his breath, “I'd make a fine guard; I didn't even see or hear them.”

Boromir and Legolas turned and looked at Thomas as he stood and moved towards them carefully avoiding the sleeping figures around the fire.

"Good morning, Thomas." Legolas greeted him quietly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Morning, I slept okay. Hello, Boromir."

"Thomas." Boromir gave him a slight nod. "You are up early."

Thomas shrugged, "I got cold and I figured it would be better to move around and warm up. Boromir, would this be a good time to start teaching me how to use a sword? Aragorn said it would have to be mornings and evenings and I really want to learn," he said eagerly.

Boromir nodded, "Well, it would certainly warm you up. Yes, we need to take advantage of this time. We do not have any extra swords with us, so for today I can at least show you how to hold one and how to move with it and some defensive moves. Later we will have to borrow Aragorn's so we can do some sparring. I would borrow it now, but he would kill me before I could get to it." He said this last without any trace of a smile and Thomas looked at him in disbelief. Boromir just stared back at him without blinking and when Thomas looked at Legolas he also had an unreadable expression on his face as he nodded in agreement.

"Thomas, you never touch another warrior's weapons without their permission. I would not let you touch mine except in very special circumstances, for example when I am teaching you how to shoot. In Aragorn's case, his sword is a very special one that is thousands of years old." Thomas's eyes widened at that. "What Boromir meant is that if you approached Aragorn when he was sleeping and tried to take his sword he would think you were an enemy and would react without knowing who you were. He is a warrior and as such is a light sleeper as are Boromir and I – when I sleep at all." Legolas finally smiled much to Thomas's relief. "So if you ever need to wake us, just say our names, it is best not to touch us."

"All right... uh... thanks for telling me that," Thomas shook his head. "I'm pretty sure I'll remember that."

"All right, now that we have that established, let's do some work." Boromir pulled his sword from its sheath and it made a distinctive 'schlock' sound. Just as the tip of the sword cleared the sheath, Aragorn sat up with his hand on his sword.

"What is the matter, Legolas?" he called looking around in concern.

Boromir and Legolas exchanged amused glances while Thomas just appeared stunned that someone could wake up just at the slight sound of a sword being drawn.

"Legolas?" Aragorn asked again, rising and walking over to join the three of them. "Boromir, why is your sword drawn?"

"I was just going to give Thomas some lessons on how to use it."

"Oh, good. I am up now so I will stay and watch and give him some tips." Aragorn nodded at Thomas as he strolled by, yawning and stretching to a nearby log to sit.

Boromir carefully handed Thomas his sword by the hilt.

"That's heavy!" Thomas gasped, quickly bringing up his left hand to grasp the sword so he wouldn't drop it. Boromir smiled as Legolas and Aragorn chuckled at the expression on Thomas's face

"It is indeed, Thomas. It has to be to kill the orcs and other enemies that we face," Boromir said seriously. "You will get used to the weight over time. Now, I want you to hold it in your right hand and we will start with some basic skills."

Thomas held the sword with one hand finding it not so hard now that he knew what to expect. He looked at the sword carefully, noticing the intricate details on the hilt, the fine though worn leather on the grip and the gleaming, wavy sharp-looking metal of the blade itself. Nodding that he was ready, Thomas looked at Boromir expectantly.

For the next half hour, as the rest of the camp woke up, Boromir started teaching Thomas the basics of swordsmanship – how to hold the sword, how to move his feet, and how to block effectively. Finally, with a glance at Boromir, Aragorn got to his feet and pulled out his sword.

"Now, Thomas you need to have someone to actually attack or defend against."

Looking up at Aragorn, Thomas almost dropped his sword again as he thought about having to actually try and kill something with it and that someone would try and do the same to him... and to Rebecca and the hobbits and everyone here. He reminded himself that it was NOT a game or just for fun. That he was learning this for a very important reason, to protect himself and others. He swallowed hard as he looked at the stern expressions on the faces of the warriors that were around him.

"Okay, w-who attacks first?" his voice was a little shaky, but no one paid any attention because they also could see the determination in his eyes and in his stance.

"I will start and attack slowly, Thomas. Just remember all that Boromir taught you."

Nervously shifting his feet from side to side, Thomas stood with his sword poised waiting for Aragorn to attack. Aragorn, however, just stood staring at him. Finally, Thomas lowered his sword, puzzled.

"What's wrong?"

The second the sword was lowered Aragorn had the tip of his sword pressed to Thomas's throat. Thomas instantly froze and stared at Aragorn with terror-filled eyes. Across the camp Rebecca had the same look on her face, not sure what was happening, as she had not heard all of the conversation between the men. All of the others trusted Aragorn and knew that whatever was going on, it was being done for a good purpose.

Struggling to stay calm, Thomas kept his eyes locked on Aragorn, telling himself over and over, He won't hurt me. He won't hurt me. He won't hurt me. But why is he doing this?

After what seemed like an hour to Thomas, but was only a minute or so, Aragorn lowered his sword and stepped back. Thomas staggered back a few steps and stood shaking with fear and glaring at Aragorn.

"What did you do that for?" he yelled angrily. "You could have killed me! I thought we were just practicing and then you really attack me. You said you would attack slowly!" His words tumbled out in a rush. He was so scared that he forgot whom he was speaking to. Normally he would never have spoken to Aragorn or any adult the way he was speaking.

"Thomas!" Aragorn's stern, cold voice interrupted his flow of words. "That was practice and if I wanted to kill you, you would be dead now."

Thomas shuddered at the deadly tone in Aragorn's voice and quickly glanced at Boromir and Legolas, but found no help there as they just looked back at him with grim expressions. Ducking his head and wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm, Thomas stared at the ground scared and confused. He wondered how that could be practice. Thomas knew Aragorn wouldn't do that without a good reason and he must be missing something. He heard soft footsteps approaching and knew it was Aragorn and though it was hard, he lifted his head and looked him in the eye.

"Aragorn," he paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. "What did I do wrong here? I'm missing some part in this 'practice' that you, Boromir and Legolas obviously wanted me to learn, but I don't see it."

Surprised, but pleased that Thomas had looked him in the eye and that he had, in fact, realized there was a point to the lesson, Aragorn clapped him on the shoulder and nodded. He motioned for Boromir and Legolas to come and join in their discussion.

"Very good Thomas. Yes, there is a very important point I was trying to make."

"Probably one that you now will never forget," Boromir said quietly, taking his sword back and sheathing it.

"Now that you have calmed down," Legolas smiled gently, "think about what happened."

Thomas frowned as he ran through the episode several times in his head... wait a minute. "I... I think... I shouldn't have lowered my sword while we were practicing. Damn. Is that what I did wrong?" he asked looking from face to face to see if he was even close to having the right answer.

Legolas smiled and Boromir clapped him on the back.

"That is what I wanted you to learn Thomas," Aragorn confirmed. "Never lower your weapon until your enemy is dead. In sparring today, I was your enemy."

Thomas nodded thoughtfully and sighed, "I have a lot to learn."

"Yes you do," Aragorn smiled. "But you did learn, Thomas, and you figured it out and saw the mistake you made yourself which is very important. Now, that is enough for this morning. We need to get moving."

Legolas left to scout the trail ahead while Boromir went to eat and help pack up. Aragorn and Thomas were left standing alone for a moment.

Thomas fumbled over what he wanted to say, as he was not very good at apologizing. "Aragorn ... I'm s-sorry I yelled at you."

"I knew you were scared Thomas and that is why you were yelling. I understand. I have done the same thing once or twice to my brothers," he smiled in remembrance before turning to look Thomas in the eye. "Nevertheless, it is always good to make sure that you do not leave still angry with someone, especially a brother or a friend," he smiled at Thomas.

Thomas nodded and smiled back.

To be continued…

0-0-0-0-0

Elvish translations:

mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 6 - The Journey Continues

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 6 – The Journey Continues

Rebecca rushed over to Thomas and grabbed his arm, "Thomas! Are you hurt? What happened? Why did he do that?" She glared over at Aragorn who was now talking with Gandalf as her hand moved up to Thomas's throat checking it for injuries. But such was Aragorn's skill that there was not a single nick in Thomas's skin.

Looking down at her, Thomas took her hand in his, absently noticing how small and soft it felt. "I'm fine Rebecca" he said soothingly. "Boromir and Aragorn were teaching me how to use a sword and what you saw was a very important part of the lesson. It may save your life or mine some day," he added seriously.

Reassured, both by his words and the fact that he wasn't injured, Rebecca relaxed. "It just startled me to see you with a sword at your throat... though I know Aragorn wouldn't hurt you." She laughed uneasily, slipping her hand loose from his and turning slightly to stare into the forest. "I-I just can't imagine being here without you Thomas," she whispered. "These guys are nice," Rebecca waved her hand vaguely in the direction of the members of the Fellowship, "but only you can really understand me. I can't stand the thought of something bad happening to you. I don't know what I would do. You're my only connection to home and the 'real' world." She turned back to him.

Thomas nodded, unsure of how to respond, not sure if he could put his feelings into words. He knew exactly how Rebecca felt because he felt much the same and he couldn't imagine being here without her either. Clearing his throat and meeting her dark brown eyes with his serious blue ones, he simply said, "I understand completely." He smiled, "Come on, we must get ready to go and I'm sure Aragorn will want to check on us or make us – or at least you – drink something awful," he teased her.

As if he had heard his name being spoken, Aragorn approached, closely followed by Boromir who was casually tossing a dagger in his hand. Remembering their conversation from the night before and how Aragorn had said that she could always ask him anything, Rebecca decided to ask him about the sword 'fight'.

"Aragorn, may I ask you something?" she said nervously, twisting a piece of her hair in her finger.

Aragorn looked at her keenly noticing her nervousness. "Of course, Lady Rebecca. Always," he said with a slight grin.

"Um... I was... uh... watching when you and Thomas were... uh practicing... "

Aragorn raised an eyebrow and had a slight frown on his face wondering where this was going, if she was angry with him for taking a sword to Thomas. He grimaced inwardly not wanting to deal with this right now, but knowing that he had told her that she could ask him any questions. He knew they did not really have time to deal with any more interruptions this morning. Sometimes the burden of having the two young people added to the Fellowship took too much of his focus away from his other responsibilities. But what Rebecca said next shocked him.

"Anyway, Thomas explained everything and I was wondering if I should learn how to fight too so that I can help protect the hobbits and defend myself." Rebecca said the last in such a rush that it was almost hard to understand the words. She looked pleadingly at Aragorn and then turned her glance on Boromir and last on Thomas. They all stared back at her in disbelief.

It was Boromir who broke the silence, "Learn to fight? My lady," he spoke gently so as not to hurt her, "I know not how it is done in your world, but here women do not fight except in direst need." He looked down at her with a small smile and laid his hand gently on her shoulder.

"Rebecca, that sword is really, really heavy! I don't think you could even lift it! You know at home women don't fight either." Thomas couldn't believe she even asked to learn. "I'll protect you... "he blushed. "I mean, we'll protect you."

"But Thomas at home women aren't right in the front lines either or going on a dangerous journey like this," Rebecca protested. "And, you know women did some stuff in the army. I'm scared, but mostly I just want to help." She stared down at her feet, disappointed in their response. "I guess I shouldn't have bothered even asking," she muttered quietly, wondering why Aragorn hadn’t said anything. She turned to leave when she felt a strong hand on her arm pulling her back around and she looked up to see Aragorn's stern grey eyes searching hers intently.

"Lady Rebecca, will you not hear what I have to say?" Aragorn asked quietly with a faint smile.

Rebecca nodded hopefully.

"While what Boromir said is true about human females, it is not true among the elves. Among them, females may be warriors if they choose to be. They do not make such distinctions between males and females." Aragorn frowned thoughtfully while gazing down at Rebecca who was still looking at him and fidgeting nervously. "Though, elvish females are very similar in strength to elvish males. I know this because I was raised among the elves and saw several female warriors who were every bit as talented as Legolas."

"Who would that be mellon nín?" Legolas called from across the camp.

But Aragorn just shook his head at him not wanting to be distracted from his conversation with Rebecca. "So, I would say that you could be trained as a warrior, Lady Rebecca..." he watched her eyes light up, "Someday." He saw the light in her eyes die and the disappointment set in before she dropped her head to her chest with a sigh. He reached out and gently grasped her chin, being careful not to touch her still healing cut, and lifted her head up until he could see her eyes. Rebecca stared past him for a moment before finally meeting his gaze. "You are too sorely hurt right now, Rebecca, to be trained in any of our weapons. You know that yourself, do you not?" She nodded slightly. "I understand the desire to want to help, but there are other ways to help besides fighting." Aragorn let go of her chin and watched as she looked at him in confusion.

"How? I have no other skills."

"Just being yourself is one thing," Aragorn said seriously. "You have a kind heart and a sense of humor and that is much needed in dark and evil times. It seems like a small thing, yet it is not." Aragorn little knew how much he would come to regret those words in the days ahead. "With some training, you might also make a good healer... you are getting a lot of practice as a patient," he said with a small laugh. "Things will come to you naturally, do not try and figure them all out now. You cannot plan for everything. I know because I have tried," he said wryly. Looking at Rebecca closely, Aragorn could see acceptance in her eyes though the disappointment was still there.

Rebecca looked around at the three men standing in front of her. "Well, then, I'm sticking close to you three and you better protect me or I'll never let you forget it," she said with a very quiet laugh.

Stepping forward and giving her a half hug from the side, Aragorn whispered in her ear, "I will always do my very best to protect you, Rebecca." Leaning back away from her, he heard Boromir's and Thomas's assurances of protections as well. "Now, Lady Rebecca, I actually came to check on your wrist before we leave."

"And I came to give Thomas this dagger," Boromir cut in.

"Then let us both do what we had planned so that we can move on, Gandalf is looking impatient."

0-0-0-0-0

This day of the journey, the 13th since the Fellowship had left Rivendell, was beautiful though still cool. There was not a single cloud in the sky as if the previous day's rain had washed them all away. Even the forest, which had seemed so gloomy yesterday, sparkled in the early morning sunlight and birds twittered and sang as they flitted about.

Rebecca noticed these things as she followed the hobbits up the path and were merrily chatting about pipe-weed or food or something. Don't they ever get tired of talking about the same thing, she thought as she walked along. Physically she felt better than she had since she had arrived in Middle Earth. Cuts and bruises were fading and healing and only her broken wrist remained a problem. She frowned, looking down at her arm moving it up and down slightly, enjoying the freedom of movement she finally had. Aragorn had decided to try letting her walk without the sling to see if that would improve her balance enough that she wouldn't stumble so often. Though he had first taken her old socks and put them over her wrist and tightly wrapped them for more protection. She wrinkled her nose remembering the smell, but sighed knowing that that she herself probably smelled much worse. She desperately wanted to have a bath and to be able to wash her hair. Rebecca ran her fingers through her hair absently, but stopped as she came to tangles and felt the grease and dirt built up there. I must look terrible, she thought, suddenly horrified. Glancing around at the others she relaxed slightly realizing that they were all mostly in the same condition. Except for Legolas she noticed, wondering why and how he could be so clean. Rebecca stared at him wondering if this was more of his eleven 'magic'.

At that moment, Legolas turned back to look at her, his eyebrow raised in question and a smile on his face.

Mortified and startled by Legolas catching her staring at him, Rebecca turned red with embarrassment and focused her eyes on the trail in front of her and did not look up for some time.

Legolas shook his head slightly in amusement and turned back to his conversation with Aragorn and Gandalf in time to hear Aragorn say,

"We should reach Hollin tomorrow, but our road grows darker from there, I fear." His eyes took on a grim and shadowed look at the thought of the dangers ahead.

"Indeed, it has been surprisingly easy thus far," Gandalf spoke in a low voice. "Much easier than I had expected."

"Well, except for Thomas and Lady Rebecca! That was certainly unexpected!" Legolas joined in with amusement.

"Indeed it was. They seem to be doing well today, Aragorn." Gandalf glanced behind them.

"Hmm... yes. Thomas appears to be at or close to full strength though the stamina needed for walking these long distances still might take some time to build. It is the same with Rebecca, except for her wrist." Aragorn frowned when he looked back and saw her walking alone. "Frodo is quiet, though I suppose that is not unexpected. The Ring is such a heavy burden for him," Aragorn's voice dropped slightly.

"I am glad Lord Elrond sent the other hobbits with him," Legolas said softly. "I think they will help him more than we know, they seem to cheer him up... last night even Thomas seemed to draw him out."

"I noticed that too," Gandalf nodded. "Thomas changed when he was with the hobbits, acted younger, but yet he seemed protective of them too."

"Thomas told the hobbits that he had a younger brother and that Pippin reminded him of his brother. Probably that is why he seems protective of the hobbits." Aragorn looked at Gandalf, "Do you think they will ever see their families again, Gandalf?"

"Will you see yours, Aragorn? Will anyone here? Only the Valar know the answer to that question."

Nodding, Aragorn inspected his feet for a moment before looking up at his two closest friends. "Well then, when the time comes I will take them with me and Boromir to Minas Tirith. They can stay with me until they are able to find a way home. And if they are never able to go home then they will always have a place in my house."

Legolas smiled at his friend, “They will do well with you, mellon nín.”

Gazing at Aragorn to make sure he was serious, Gandalf nodded, "it is well thought of Aragorn. They will be very much alone here and it will be good for them to have someone who knows their true story. No one else would believe them and should probably not be told anyway. You and the rest of us here will become their 'family' - such as it is," he laughed lightly. Aragorn and Legolas joined him.

Gandalf turned serious once again "Of course, all of this depends on us surviving the evil days ahead of us. Now, come we have many miles yet to travel today and we cannot be slowing now. Legolas, you should be out scouting the trail ahead while a couple of old men discuss the path we should take."

Bowing slightly and with an amused smile at Gandalf, Legolas departed swiftly into the trees ahead.

"Old man?" Aragorn gazed at his long-time friend with an arched eyebrow and a question in his eyes.

"Yes, old man. Most humans would consider someone of your advanced years to be quite old." Gandalf stared back at Aragorn with just a slight twinkle in his eyes.

"I am only 87 and that is not old for one of the Dúnadain!" Aragorn protested, throwing up his hands and shaking his head, though he had a smile on his face.

Gandalf just ignored him and kept walking.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca walked by herself all morning and even though she was tired she enjoyed the forest they passed through. The terrain was steep in places but had enough level areas to make it bearable. Walking alone gave her a sense of privacy that she had been sorely missing the past few days. At home, Rebecca often spent hours alone in her room reading and thinking. Having ten people around her all of the time was difficult. It wasn't that she didn't like them, but it was nice not to have to talk to anyone for awhile. Besides her family, books were the things that she missed the most. She supposed they didn't have any books here that she could read, but she would ask Boromir or Aragorn. And a journal would be nice too. Maybe someday she could write about all of this. Not that anyone would believe it. Rebecca sighed softly and decided to just concentrate on placing one foot in front of the other as they started to climb another hill. It sometimes seemed that all they did is go up and Rebecca wondered when they would go down. Glancing at the sun, she tried to guess the time wondering how soon they would break for lunch. She could only hope that Aragorn would stop soon. She needed a break; her legs were starting to hurt. As Rebecca unconsciously started to slow down, she could hear Thomas talking with Boromir and Gimli about weapon and battles. She couldn’t believe that they were still talking about it, they'd been talking about it all morning. She shook her head slightly before speeding up, not really wanting to hear any more about orcs and battles.

Behind her Thomas was desperately trying to learn all that he could from Boromir and Gimli. Knowing that he was going to have to fight with a sword and kill these creatures and that they would be trying to kill him, made him an eager learner. Both Boromir and Gimli were patiently answering his questions and giving him advice knowing that they might need to depend on him in battle sometime soon. Of course, talking about how to use a weapon or discussing strategy did not replace practice or actual experience, but it was the best they could do as they walked along and it at least gave Thomas a base of knowledge to draw upon – if he could remember it.

"Boromir, Gandalf said something about these creatures we will be fighting... called orcs, I think. What are they?"

"Bah, vile, evil, horrible things," Gimli spat out.

"Orcs are vile creatures," explained Boromir, "used by the dark lord for his evil purposes. They travel only at night and hate the sun and men. They are man shaped, but are generally smaller and kill without thought or mercy. They travel in large groups so while they are generally, and I stress generally easy to kill, there are often so many of them they can overwhelm you."

None of them noticed Rebecca, who had slowed down again, starting to shake as she listened to Boromir describe orcs.

Gimli picked up where Boromir left off. "Then there are wargs which are giant wolves, the dark lord also uses those. Sometimes by themselves and sometimes they travel with orcs. But my trusty axe..." and here Gimli patted his largest axe, "takes care of those things."

"You fight with your axe? I wondered why you carried them... they all look so heavy." Thomas looked Gimli over, noticing the various axes hooked to his belt besides the one he carried slung over his shoulder. "I've only ever used axes for chopping wood."

Smiling grimly, Gimli nodded, "Aye lad, my axes are used for killing evil creatures of all kinds." He patted a small axe on his belt, "These are used for throwing and this," he lifted the largest axe off his shoulder, "I use for up close work. Though..." he laughed, "I have chopped down a fair number of trees with it, Thomas."

Thomas looked closely at Gimli wondering if he should get an axe since he had at least used one before, even if it was only on trees. Focusing on the trail ahead and noticing another steep hill in the distance, his eyes happened to fall on Rebecca. With a start he realized that her shoulders were shaking or shivering occasionally and he wondered what was the matter and if she were crying. Thomas was about to go and ask her when Boromir's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Besides orcs and wargs, Thomas, there are also evil men that have allied themselves to the dark lord. They are much more difficult to kill because they can move and react and think like you.”

Thomas looked at Boromir blankly and all thought of Rebecca vanished from his mind. "Men?" he asked weakly, "I will be fighting and killing men too?" His face paled as it finally sunk in that he would not just be fighting these 'creatures' but men just like him. He was sure that Aragorn or someone had mentioned it before, but somehow it had slipped from his mind in all of the chaos of the last couple of days.

Boromir looked at Thomas with compassion. "Yes, Thomas, you will. The dark lord has enslaved the men of Harad and the Easterlings to do his bidding and only the free men of Gondor..." Boromir gestured at himself, "and Rohan stand against him." At an angry glower from Gimli, he quickly added, "I meant only of the race of men, Gimli! Of course, there are other free peoples in the fight, dwarves, elves and hobbits." Boromir gave Gimli a slight bow which was returned.

"How...how do you kill another man, Boromir?" Thomas asked, looking very young. "I-I know it will be hard to kill orcs and wargs, but I'm sure I can do it. But men?" he sighed, looking down at his hands and flexing them unconsciously, not quite able to believe that his hands could be used to take a human life.

Boromir placed his hand on Thomas's shoulder and squeezed it slightly, "I will not lie to you, Thomas. It is very difficult... the first time..." his voice trailed off and his eyes grew sad, "I fought and killed men, I cried afterwards." Boromir glanced down at Thomas who was watching him intently. "I was even younger than you – barely 16," he laughed hollowly. "It only gets easier in the sense that you get better at killing." Boromir frowned and stared vacantly into the woods before looking back at Thomas. He added softly, "But it never gets easy to kill a man. Nor should it. I only do it to protect my home and my people."

"I-I had hoped it was different here. That men were somehow better. That they were all united against this dark lord." Thomas sounded sad for a moment. "But I suppose men are the same everywhere," he added bitterly. "They always want more and are willing to do anything to get it – including killing innocent people. Then the rest of us have to fight and die to protect them."

Thomas's body was taut with anger as he quickly strode away from Boromir and Gimli not noticing the shocked looks on their faces. He passed Rebecca without a glance and fell into line between her and the hobbits. Slowing down so he didn't overtake the hobbits, Thomas struggled to contain his anger. He took several deep breaths and tried to focus on something other than his father and the war at home that were racing through his mind. He couldn’t understand why this was happening again. Why men did this to each other. He wasn’t sure he would be able to handle this. What if Rebecca dies? Or Aragorn? Or Boromir? Or any of them? What would he do? There is no one else here for me, he thought with despair. Thomas felt at the edge of tears, but he wouldn't let them fall, instead taking a last, deep breath. He jumped slightly when he heard a voice next to him.

"Thomas?... A-are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost." Rebecca's voice was laced with concern as she looked up at him anxiously. She reached for his hand, but then thought better of it and her hand dropped back down to her side.

"I'm fine, Rebecca." Thomas replied dismissively, waving off her concerns with one hand, not taking his eyes off the path ahead.

"You don't look fine..." Rebecca was cut off when Aragorn called for a quick lunch break. Thomas was relieved to get out of the conversation so he gave her a quick feigned smile and moved off to join the hobbits. Rebecca sighed and shook her head as she followed him to where the food was being set out. She knew Thomas was not being honest with her and that something was deeply troubling him. Though disappointed that Thomas didn't appear to trust her enough to tell her what was bothering him, Rebecca shrugged inwardly; it was up to him.

0-0-0-0-0

Clearly pleased that Rebecca had managed to make it through the morning without hitting her wrist, Aragorn decided to leave the sling off for the rest of the day.

"My balance is so much better, Aragorn! I don't think I even stumbled over a root or anything." Rebecca was thrilled not to have to wear the sling anymore.

"It could be that the path I have chosen is better," Aragorn said, looking closely at her wrist so she did not see the twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, that's true." Rebecca sounded disappointed as she gazed at her feet wondering if, in fact, it was the absence of the sling or the path that was responsible for her improved balance. "Wait a minute," her eyes narrowing suspiciously, "are you kidding me, Aragorn? I don't think you would change the path just for me."

Aragorn chuckled softly, "Ah, Rebecca, I was teasing you. I am sure it was the sling and not the path – though I would find an easier path for you if I could." He grinned as she ducked her head in embarrassment.

She looked back up at him with a smile, "Well, anyway, I'm just glad not to have to wear the sling anymore."

Turning serious once again, Aragorn handed her the sling, "You will keep this and I expect you to wear it at night. It will keep you from accidentally hitting it as you move during your sleep."

Rebecca nodded, "That makes sense, thanks Aragorn." She blinked, suddenly realizing all of the things that he had done for her over the past few days and that she had never really even thanked him before.

"Good, we need to move on, we have many miles to travel before nightfall." Aragorn helped Rebecca to her feet as she groaned, though she gave him a smile and said,

"It's really not so bad now that I'm starting to feel better."

He smiled in return and moved off to his regular place in the front of the others. Meanwhile, Rebecca resumed her usual spot between Thomas and Boromir and Gimli who still brought up the rear. She gazed questioningly at Thomas as she passed him, but he just stared down at his feet as he walked along.

Refreshed by the short break and lunch, Rebecca was again enjoying the beauty of the trees and the 'solitude', though it did seem that Aragorn had picked up the pace a bit. She figured there must be a wonderful 'shelter' they needed to reach by nightfall, Rebecca groaned inwardly. Legolas had rejoined the group and she was surprised to see him stop beside the path and wait for others to pass. The hobbits gave him questioning looks, but he just smiled and motioned them on. As Rebecca came alongside he stepped back onto the path.

"May I walk with you, Lady Rebecca?" he asked in his soft, somewhat musical voice.

"Of course, there is no need to ask," Rebecca smiled at him, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"I did not scare you this time," Legolas pointed out.

Rebecca laughed quietly, "No you didn't and I thank you for that."

Legolas bowed slightly with a faint smile. "I noticed that you have been very quiet this day and walking alone. I wondered if you were still troubled about what happened this morning or if something else has caused you distress. Please forgive me, Lady Rebecca if asking such personal questions offends you. That is not my intention, I am asking only out of my concern for you." Legolas gazed at Rebecca with a slightly furrowed brow and his intense blue eyes looked straight into hers.

Rebecca could not endure the intensity of Legolas's gaze for very long and she soon turned her face back to the path ahead. "Legolas..." she began and then paused to gather her thoughts. She tried again, "Legolas, first of all, I'm not offended." She glanced up at him to find that he was still watching her intently. Rebecca's cheeks reddened as she continued, "I know you're just concerned for me, so there's nothing to forgive." She risked a quick look and smiled up at him. Legolas nodded. "I'm not upset at Aragorn or Boromir about this morning. I understand... even though it's hard and I was disappointed."

"I am glad, Lady Rebecca. Truly, they do have your best interests at heart and..." Legolas hesitated and then continued softly, "I do agree with them. Though I was not part of your discussion, I also will do my best to protect you."

"Thank you, Legolas."

"However, I notice that you did not include Thomas when you said you were not upset about this morning. Are you upset with him?" Legolas's eyebrow rose in question and there was a hint of amusement in his voice which irritated Rebecca.

Scowling at Legolas, "Well, I'm a little mad at him. He just said the sword was too heavy! That's not a good reason. There are other weapons. You have two knife things you carry." Rebecca gestured at the ones on Legolas's back. "I'll bet I'm strong enough to hold one of those. I know, I know..." she waved off the start of Legolas's protests. "I can't learn to fight... at least now. Anyway, Thomas did make me mad."

"Thomas was just trying to protect you in the only way he knew how," Legolas said gently, "he cares for you."

Nodding, Rebecca glanced ahead at Thomas who still appeared to be almost sleepwalking as he trudged along. "I know that. Just like I care for him. I don't know what I would do without him here," she whispered, looking up at Legolas. "Anyway, that's not the reason I was walking alone today. But I'm not sure a man would understand..."

"Ah, but I am not a man, Lady Rebecca," Legolas interrupted her quietly, "so maybe I would understand." He looked at her expectantly.

"Oh...well... yes...," Rebecca, embarrassed, fumbled for the right words. "I know you're an elf... I guess I should have said a male." She gave him a sidelong glance to see his response. When he remained quiet, Rebecca took a deep breath and continued. "You are probably right, you might understand me. This is a different place and time from my world and..." she paused and gave Legolas a shy smile, "you are an elf. But I'm not used to telling people, especially males, what I'm thinking about. No one ever asked me before." Rebecca laughed and gave a small shrug of her shoulders. She lifted her gaze off the ground where she had been watching the path carefully and instead studied the looming snow-covered mountains that she could just now see through the trees as she waited for Legolas to respond.

It did not take him long. "I am asking only because of my concern for you Lady Rebecca." Legolas gave her a reassuring smile, "You do not have to tell me, I just wanted you to know that I would listen. Sometimes we need to share our hearts and thoughts and feelings with others so we do not feel so alone," he paused briefly. "I know you feel very much alone, Lady Rebecca," he added softly, watching as Rebecca's eyes took on a sad and distant look before filling with tears that she rapidly blinked away.

Nodding abruptly, Rebecca turned her focus back to the ground in front of her. "Y-yes I do." Her voice grew stronger as she continued speaking, "This morning though I was... enjoying having a moment of privacy. I know it sounds strange with everyone around, but just not talking to anyone gave me a sense of privacy and gave me time to think about home and things I miss," she sighed deeply. "At home, when I finished with school and work and all of my chores or when my noisy cousins got to be too much for me, I could retreat to my room. It was a place where no one would disturb me, Legolas. I would read, or write in my journal, or just lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling and think about life and dream about my future. It was my own special retreat where I could get away. I-I don't have that here and so that's sort of what I tried to do this morning. Can you understand the need for that?" Rebecca gazed searchingly at Legolas.

"Indeed, mellon nín, I understand that perfectly well." Legolas gave Rebecca a beautiful smile. "As a young elfling..." he paused, "What is the matter, Lady Rebecca?"

"What does mellon nín mean?" she asked in confusion.

"Forgive me! It means my friend in Sindarin... which is an elvish language."

"Oh, I've heard you say it to Aragorn before and I've wondered what it meant. Anyway, go ahead with what you were saying." Rebecca smiled at Legolas, thrilled that he would call her 'my friend' in any language.

Legolas continued his story, "As a prince, I was constantly surrounded by servants, nursemaids, teachers, guards and many others. It seemed I never had any time to myself. So, when I was about twenty-five I decided to sneak out of my room one night to try and find a quiet place..."

"Wait a minute," Rebecca interrupted, "at twenty-five years old you had to 'sneak' out? Isn't that a little old to be doing that? Besides," she added looking Legolas up and down carefully, "You don't look much older than that now."

Legolas let out a merry laugh that caused the four hobbits to turn and look back, though Thomas appeared not to hear it. Pippin and Merry slowly dropped back to join Rebecca and Legolas.

"What's so funny?" demanded Pippin, "I could use a good laugh."

"Me, too," added Merry, "though I notice that Lady Rebecca is not laughing right now, she just looks annoyed."

Rebecca scowled at Legolas and ignored the hobbits. "I don't know what's so funny, Legolas. I just asked you a simple question." Her voice was filled with a mixture of both hurt and annoyance.

Merry and Pippin exchanges surprised glances at the tone of Rebecca's voice and turned to Legolas whose face, while serious still carried a spark of amusement in his eyes.

"Ah, Lady Rebecca forgive me for my laughter, but it is funny to me because I am quite a bit older than twenty-five!" The hobbits started laughing as well, though they quickly stopped when Rebecca turned her furious eyes on them. The amusement still evident in his voice Legolas continued, "Do you remember, Lady Rebecca when I told you that elves are immortal?"

Rebecca nodded, looking at him closely to make sure he was not making fun of her as she had suspected earlier.

"Because we are immortal, once we get to a certain age, we stop growing and our physical features are set – like mine are. So, though I may look to you to be only twenty-five years of age, I am actually 1, 937 years old."

Rebecca stopped dead in her tracks and stared at Legolas in total disbelief. "1,937" she whispered.

Legolas gently grabbed her elbow and moved her along while Pippin and Merry just laughed at the stunned expression on her face.

Automatically moving her feet, Rebecca let Legolas help her along the path as she tried to absorb his true age. She had no frame of reference for knowing someone of his age. It just didn't seem possible.

"Legolas!"

"Yes, Lady Rebecca?"

"You're really old!" Rebecca laughed lightly. Shaking her head and still somewhat in shock she continued thoughtfully, "But you must have seen so much. I'll bet you can tell wonderful stories of incredible places and things..." her voice trailed off and her eyes took on a far-away look as she thought of the possibilities of Legolas sharing the stories of his life with her and her writing them down and making a book from them.

Reaching down and squeezing her hand gently, Legolas's eyes darkened, "Many of the stories I could tell would be of dark and evil things for my land has been through hard times for many centuries." Smiling down at Rebecca, Merry and Pippin who had all shuddered as he talked because of the heaviness in his voice and the sorrow they could feel emanating from him, Legolas changed the subject as he let go of Rebecca's hand.

"Now, Lady Rebecca, we need to get back to our original topic of conversation which we have wandered far from. When I said I was sneaking out of my room at twenty-five, that is about the same as a human twelve year old. Elves do not become adults until they are about fifty years of age."

"Oh... for us it is eighteen. I have a year and a half to go. Thomas has about six months, I think." Rebecca said looking ahead at Thomas wondering again what had him so lost in thought. Though he did seem to be looking around again and was not staring at the ground anymore. Smiling, Rebecca glanced down at the hobbits, "And when do hobbits become adults?"

"For hobbits it's thirty-three years. All of us except Pippin are adults. He's only twenty-eight." Merry threw his arm around his younger cousin's shoulder.

"And you never let me forget it either," Pippin mumbled, before his countenance brightened once again. "Though sometimes being the youngest works to my advantage. I usually get the best food, no one expects me to do much and my mom spoils me." His face lit up in a cheeky grin as he joined the others in their laughter.

Returning once again to his story, Legolas continued, "I snuck out of my room through my window by leaping into the closest tree." Noticing the widened eyes of the others, Legolas took the time to explain, "I am a wood-elf, a tree will not let me fall." Legolas reached out and lovingly stroked a tree as he walked past and Rebecca noticed the leaves seemed to flutter at his touch. "I jumped from tree to tree until I found the perfect tree a short distance from the palace. After that night I often returned to 'my' tree and even today I go to the same place, though of course that original tree is no longer there. But it remains a place that I go to escape from the crowds in the palace, a place to go and think, a place to be alone." Legolas stopped speaking and stared intently down at Rebecca who gazed back at him for the understanding she was seeking. Smiling shyly, she nodded once before letting out a small sigh of relief that someone here could understand her and her need for privacy and escape from the people that now constantly surrounded her.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Legolas. It-it helps me to know that someone else does understand."

Bowing slightly to Rebecca, Legolas turned to the hobbits who had been looking back and forth between Rebecca and Legolas as if aware that they were missing something.

"Now, young hobbits," Legolas's voice, which had been so serious turned light as his mood switched with the lightening speed that was common among elves. "I believe that Lady Rebecca and I need to hear a story of the Shire." His eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked down at Rebecca. "I know that she has heard none of your stories and I have heard very few."

As Merry and Pippin started arguing over which story to tell, Rebecca looked at Legolas closely. While he was so hard to read, she thought he was struggling to keep from laughing. Just before she turned her eyes back to the path, Legolas winked at her, which caused her to blush and him to laugh softly. Rebecca shook her head in frustration, wondering how she could talk to him all afternoon without blushing and then when he gave her an innocent wink, she immediately blushed.

Evidently Pippin and Merry came to some kind of an agreement because Pippin started in on a long rambling tale about his third cousin twice removed on his father's side or something like that. Rebecca was never quite sure of the particular relationships of who was related to whom though she noticed it did seem important to both hobbits as Merry kept interrupting to clear up some minor details.

Parts of the story were funny, like when a wheelbarrow broke loose and rolled down a hill and pushed a man face first into a muddle puddle. Or, when a cow got out and they had to chase it through the village and it made a mess. But the parts Rebecca liked best were when Pippin and Merry were talking about how peaceful their home was, with bubbling brooks and quiet meadows. Right now, Rebecca would do anything to be in a place like that.

So the afternoon passed quite quickly for Rebecca as she listened to the hobbits talk about their life in the Shire. At some point she realized that Legolas had departed and Thomas had taken his place alongside her. She glanced at him and smiled which he acknowledged with a quick nod. The sun was slipping toward the top of the hills when Aragorn called a halt near a small closely spaced grove of trees that was to be their camp for the night.

Rebecca realized with some surprise that though she was extremely tired it was not the utter exhaustion of the past days and she realized that she was starting to feel better and her body was getting used to the walking. Having stories to listen to also helped keep her mind off the walking. She turned to Merry and Pippin, "Thanks so much for telling me about your home. I hope I can see it someday."

"Oh, you must come, Lady Rebecca! I'll take you everywhere!" Pippin cried excitedly.

Merry was more restrained though no less enthused by the thought of showing Rebecca his homeland, "Yes, please do come, Lady Rebecca. It would be wonderful to show you our home."

"Well, when we get wherever we are going..." she frowned, suddenly realizing she had no idea how long it would even take to get where they were going. "Anyway, when this is all over, I'll try and visit you." She watched as the hobbits scampered off to join the others and moved to follow them a little more slowly when she felt a hand on her arm holding her back. Looking down at it and then up she saw Thomas gazing at her a little uncertainly.

"Rebecca, I-I wanted to tell you I was sorry for..." Thomas looked away, swallowed and then turned back to her, "I wasn't mad at you," he whispered. "I was..." Thomas stopped, having no idea how to express what he was feeling.

Confused, Rebecca just looked at him, not sure why he was even trying to apologize. It either had to be about the sword or when she had tried to talk to him before lunch. But neither of those should cause this much anguish.

"Uh, Thomas, just tell me, I won't bite." Rebecca smiled at him although it was a bit hesitant.

Deciding to just get it over with, Thomas's words came flying out in a rush. "I meant at lunch time I wasn't mad at you when I wouldn't talk to you. I was upset after talking with Boromir and Gimli about having to fight and kill men and it reminded me of home and my father and I couldn't talk to you about it right then, I needed to think about it for awhile. But I don't want you to be mad at me so I'm sorry if I hurt you." Thomas breathed a deep sigh of relief as he finished though he still did not look at Rebecca and stood there staring at the ground.

Understanding and sorrow flashed in Rebecca's eyes and she moved forward and hugged Thomas tightly. Startled, Thomas stood there for a moment and then he slowly put his arms around her and gently hugged her back. They stood that way for several minutes both finding comfort from the embrace and totally unaware of the eyes of the Fellowship who were watching them, though none had heard the conversation, except Legolas who smiled softly. Thomas was the first to draw back.

"Thank you, Rebecca, I-I needed that," he said quietly.

"I did too," she whispered. "Thomas, I forgive you if that's what you need to hear. But I understand about needing time to think things through to deal with them. Just tell me that though and... don't push me away, it hurts and I knew you weren't being honest with me anyway." Rebecca smiled up at him.

Thomas reached down and took her hand as he nodded. "I'll try Rebecca, honestly, I will." His voice was quiet yet strong as he turned and led her to the camp.

To be continued…

0-0-0-0-0

Elvish Translations:

Mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 7 - Thomas, Night Watches, and Spies

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 7 – Thomas, Night Watches, and Spies

Aragorn glanced up at Rebecca and Thomas as they joined the fellowship members gathered around the fire. Both were quiet and Thomas had a shadowed look around his eyes that spoke of hurt and despair. Puffing thoughtfully on his pipe as he studied Thomas, Aragorn thought back to his conversation with Boromir who had relayed what had happened earlier in the day. It was obviously still affecting Thomas and it had to stop or he would become more of a burden than a help on this journey. As Aragorn watched though, Pippin and Merry approached Thomas and started chattering about something to do with the Shire and Thomas's eyes lightened and he smiled and talked to them. Maybe he just needs a little time... but do we have the time? I fear I may have to force him to face it. I wonder what shadow haunts his past? Aragorn mused, before standing abruptly.

"Come, Thomas, it's time to practice."

Choking on the last bite of his dinner, Thomas glanced up at Aragorn.

"B-but, Aragorn, I'm too tired," he pleaded before looking away.

Aragorn's eyes hardened as he looked down at Thomas, "Do you think that the only time we fight is when you are rested?" his voice was cold as he continued. "It is not so. Many times you will fight when you are totally and completely exhausted and yet you will go on lest you die."

Thomas was staring at his feet as Aragorn spoke. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see that only Rebecca was looking at him, most were gazing into the fire. Embarrassed, Thomas raised his head before standing and looking at Aragorn. "You're right Aragorn... I didn't think it through again," he said hesitantly.

Aragorn nodded curtly though the hardness did not leave his eyes. "Come."

Thomas followed him to a spot where the barest minimum of light from the fire illuminated the ground in the growing darkness.

"Uh... Aragorn, do I need to borrow Boromir's sword from him?"

"No," was Aragorn's clipped reply.

Thomas gulped inwardly, knowing that he must have really made Aragorn mad.

Aragorn pulled his sword from its sheath, looked down at it for moment, and then gestured for Thomas to take it.

"Are – are you sure, sir? Legolas told me this was a really old and special sword." Thomas looked from Aragorn to the sword and back again.

"Yes, take it. But carefully."

Reaching out with both hands, Thomas grasped the sword gingerly around the hilt. He noticed immediately that while it was slightly longer than Boromir's sword, it was lighter in weight. Aragorn's sword seemed to have some sort of strange markings or writing on the blade itself and the hilt was some sort of silvery metal with black leather grips. "It's a beautiful sword... if you can call a sword beautiful. But... but it doesn't look old," Thomas glanced up at Aragorn.

"Trust me, it is," Aragorn replied. "Someday I will tell you the history of the sword. For now I have another purpose." He reached down and drew a dagger from his belt. "This morning you did not like the feeling of having a sword at your throat, did you?"

Thomas shook his head, vehemently.

"No one does," Aragorn noted dryly, "since it usually means capture or death. Sometimes, though, just as hard is to have your sword at the throat of another man..." he paused seeing realization hit Thomas's eyes.

Thomas couldn't believe what Aragorn had just said and that Boromir and Gimli, probably Boromir, he thought bitterly, had told Aragorn of their conversation earlier in the day and how he had reacted. Thomas turned to glare at Boromir only to find that he was gazing steadily back. Thomas flinched slightly under Boromir's regard so he turned and let his eyes sweep around the circle gathered at the fire where all were watching. Turning back to Aragorn, Thomas finally responded, "Yes, sir, I imagine it is," he said through clenched teeth.

Aragorn looked at Thomas for a moment wondering how best to proceed when the boy was obviously so angry. He did not want him to cut his throat. Maybe I should let Boromir do this, he laughed inwardly. "We are going to take this slow. And I truly mean slow, Thomas. For my safety." Aragorn's eyes bored into Thomas's. "I'm going to trust you with my life right now. Just like I may have to in a battle someday soon. I will have my dagger so that it will seem like you are really fighting someone. Thomas! Look at me!" Aragorn suddenly commanded. Thomas's eyes had drifted off into the woods as Aragorn spoke but he quickly jerked them back to Aragorn. "You have to focus on what you are doing, Thomas or I will get hurt. You have to practice this and get over your fear..." Thomas's eyes blazed at that. "Before you are in a real battle or it may cost you your life or mine or one of theirs." Aragorn pointed over to the circle gathered around the fire.

Thomas ran his fingers through his short hair totally frustrated, but knowing that Aragorn was right and that he spoke from experience. "Tell me what I need to do, Aragorn," he finally responded quietly. "I-I trust that you know best about this."

Searching Thomas's blue eyes and seeing nothing but quiet determination there, Aragorn gave a small inner sigh of relief knowing that just making the decision to continue meant that the worst part was over for Thomas.

"To start, I just want you to slowly lift the sword and point it at my heart." Aragorn said matter-of-factly, knowing all the while that he was in no danger from Thomas. His elven trained reflexes were too quick and he would easily be able to dodge any slips Thomas might make. "Ah, Thomas, you are going to have to be a little closer if you are going to kill me." Aragorn watched Thomas flinch at the word 'kill'. He knew had to get over this...sensitivity he had. Thomas took a couple of steps closer to Aragorn and the sword while wavering, was pointed right at his chest. "Good, Thomas. However, you need to remember that the heart is on the left side and to kill someone, you need to stab him there." Aragorn's voice was calm with just a hint of amusement as Thomas flushed at the soft laughter that came from those at the fire.

Swiftly, Aragorn brought his dagger up and struck the sword, knocking it down and away from his body. The force of the blow caused Thomas to stagger back and he almost dropped the sword. Aragorn stood glaring at him. "Pay attention to me Thomas! You have to ignore those kinds of distractions."

"Damn it." Thomas swore softly. "I did it again." He started muttering and swearing under his breath. "Can we try again?" He looked up questioningly at Aragorn.

"We will keep doing it until you get it right," Aragorn answered mildly.

"Great, we could be here for days, Aragorn!" Thomas mumbled.

Aragorn's only reply was a quiet laugh.

Thomas took his stance and approached Aragorn again, unconsciously licking his lips, forcing himself to concentrate on Aragorn and trying to block out everything else around him. He tried to recall Boromir's instructions from the morning. Thomas knew not to watch Aragorn's eyes because those could be deceptive so he concentrated on Aragorn's body and the hand that held the dagger. This time when his sword reached Aragorn's heart, his arm was steady. Still not quite sure what to do since he didn't want to take his eyes off the dagger, Thomas relied on an old movie line. "Drop your weapon," he said harshly.

Surprised, pleased and amused all at the same time, Aragorn let the dagger fall to the ground. He watched Thomas start to bend for the dagger, hesitate and then kick it aside. Finally, Thomas looked up at him with a grin.

"How was that, Aragorn? Was that better?"

"Much better. You did a good job of concentrating on the dagger and my hands. And kicking the dagger away was the right thing to do as well. Well done, Thomas! However, be sure you also pay attention to your surroundings, because, if for example, Legolas were sneaking up behind you and you were so focused on me and my dagger that you did not hear him, you would be just as dead as if I killed you." Aragorn grinned, looking over Thomas's shoulder.

Thomas jumped as he felt the small tip of a knife digging into his back. He groaned and hung his head mumbling inaudibly under his breath.

Laughing softly as he re-sheathed his knife, Legolas stepped forward and patted Thomas on the shoulder before whispering in his ear, "Aragorn is right, Thomas, you need to be alert, but I tell you truly that most men cannot hear an elf approaching." Legolas suddenly stepped back as Thomas turned around with the sword still in his hand. Anger flared briefly in Thomas's eyes at being tricked again and at Legolas's laughter, but then he nodded curtly to the elf and turned back to Aragorn. He watched as Aragorn exchanged glances with Legolas, but he ignored them, he just wanted to get this over with so everyone would stop looking at him.

"All right, Thomas, one more thing. I do want you to put the sword to my throat... it is an easier kill at times." Aragorn watched as Thomas sighed and nodded in resignation. "This time I will not use my dagger." Aragorn strode over and picked it up. "You need to do this, Thomas."

For some reason this seemed harder to Thomas. Pointing a razor sharp sword at Aragorn's throat seemed ridiculous to him. Taking a deep breath, Thomas looked Aragorn in the eye and raised his sword slowly willing his hand not to tremble. The closer he got to the throat however, the harder it was to control. Aragorn stood stock still staring intently at Thomas, though Thomas knew he was watching the sword carefully as well. Finally Thomas stopped with the sword just at Aragorn's chin.

"That's as far as I can go, Aragorn," he said softly.

"It is enough, Thomas. I yield." Aragorn took a graceful step back and Thomas lowered the sword.

"Aragorn?"

"Yes?" Aragorn replied, walking up to Thomas and retrieving his sword.

"Do you remember when I asked you to teach me how to use a sword?"

"Uh huh."

"I never would have asked it I'd known how hard it would be," he smiled at Aragorn, relieved that he was done for the evening.

Aragorn laughed as they walked back to the fire. "Oh..." he paused as if he just remembered something, "did I tell you that you have last watch tonight?"

Thomas's eyes widened in surprise. "No, you didn't. What time is that? Will someone wake me?"

"Yes, someone will wake you. But for now it means you need to sleep." Aragorn pushed Thomas off in the direction of the bedrolls while he walked over to join Legolas.

0-0-0-0-0

Merry woke Thomas for his watch sometime in the middle of the night. The only light was from a few bright orange embers in the fire. Carefully crawling from his sleeping spot between Pippin and Rebecca, Thomas stood and blinked the sleep from his eyes as he listened to Merry's whispered instructions. He could just make out the forms of the sleeping figures around him and he wondered which ones were Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas as he had no desire to trip over them in the dark. Legolas's warnings from yesterday were still fresh in his mind. Still, he couldn't just stand here so he moved as carefully as possible between Pippin and Rebecca and then around to the far side of the camp to the log Merry had mentioned.

The night seemed filled with noise and he wondered how on earth, he would know which ones were just animals or birds – like the owls he could hear, and which ones were 'bad' things. He decided that if anything seemed to be coming his way, he would just wake someone. Peering into the darkness, his eyes slowly adjusted and he decided to draw his dagger just to have something in his hand if he needed it.

Thomas had been on watch for an hour or so when a slight noise behind him made him spin around on his log. A tall shadowy figure stood before him and Thomas leapt to his feet with the dagger in front of him and his mouth opened to call for help.

"Peace, Thomas," the figure said softly, raising his hands slightly palms up to show he held no weapons.

"Aragorn?" he asked, a little uncertainly though he did not lower his dagger.

"Yes, it is me Thomas."

"Why are you up now? You should be sleeping." Thomas asked wondering if Aragorn was just checking on him.

"I wanted to talk with you. I did not want to do it earlier with everyone listening. But I will be blunt and to the point now. Boromir told me of your reaction to fighting men." Aragorn held up his hand to stop Thomas's protests. "And I can understand why it would be hard for you to do since you have never fought before. That is why we practiced like we did tonight." Aragorn paused briefly, "But neither Boromir nor I understand the anger you displayed earlier today and yet again tonight towards Legolas... though you hid that well, both Legolas and I felt it. That kind of anger and loss of control can get you killed quicker than anything else." Aragorn's voice, which had been quiet, but matter-of-fact suddenly turned gentle, "What is it Thomas that has you so angry?"

Thomas stared back at him in shock; he couldn't believe what Aragorn was asking. How could he tell him about his home and his father? Thomas shifted uncomfortably and then abruptly sat back down on the log. "I'm – I'm not sure I can tell you that, Aragorn."

"You need to, Thomas; I do not want to see you dead. Or others killed because you lose control," Aragorn's voice was firm.

Thomas started at that and he stared down at his hands before looking over towards the hobbits and Rebecca though he couldn't really see them in the dark. "All right... I don't want that to happen either, Aragorn."

Thomas shuddered. Whether at the thought of someone dying or telling his secrets, Aragorn was not sure. Trying to make Thomas more comfortable, Aragorn sat down on the ground beside him, clasping his hands around his pulled up knees.

"Go ahead, Thomas, I am listening," he urged softly.

Thomas's words when they came were halting and slow. "We – we had a... big war in my...world that ended...less than 10 years ago. I-I think we have a bigger... world than ...yours. More countries anyway. Some... some of them decided... they wanted... the whole world for themselves." Thomas paused caught up in memories. He shook himself and went on. "M-my country was one... they wanted and so-so we had to fight them." Aragorn closed his eyes in sadness as he knew where this was going. "My – my father..." Thomas paid no heed as tears started rolling unchecked down his cheeks, "he-he left when I was seven and...my brother was born two months later. I-I never saw him again. He was killed a month before the war ended," he whispered. "Like I told Boromir, I hoped it was different here. That men were better so that innocent people didn't have to suffer and die. That's – that's why I was angry, Aragorn." Thomas finally looked up at Aragorn through his tear-filled eyes.

Aragorn had a look of such sorrow and understanding on his face that Thomas buried his head in his hands and started weeping quietly. Aragorn let him cry for a time and then pulled him into a fatherly embrace. "I am sorry, Thomas that your father died and all that you had to go through in your world at such a young age. I wish I could tell you that it was different here, but it is not. My father was killed many years ago when I was two and this is still part of the ongoing war... though if Frodo is successful in destroying the Ring it will be the final victory. I have been alive long enough to know that men can choose to have good hearts or evil ones. We can only judge them by their deeds, Thomas."

Thomas had stopped crying and was quietly listening to Aragorn.

"And, Thomas?"

Thomas looked up to find Aragorn's grey eyes studying him intently. "You too have to choose. I see you as a young man with a good heart who is kind and protective of those around him. But like I said earlier if your anger gets out of control... other results might happen." Thomas looked up at him and nodded thoughtfully. Aragorn stood and stretched, deciding that enough talking had occurred for one night. Debating whether or not to send Thomas to bed, Aragorn decided against it knowing that Thomas would be insulted and that he needed time to think about their conversation. Before Aragorn moved off a thought struck him,

"Thomas? What about Lady Rebecca and her family? Were they caught up in this war too?"

"Yes. She was only 5 when her father left and he died about a year before mine."

Aragorn nodded sadly and moved back through the camp though he had no real intention of sleeping. Passing the hobbits he noticed the gleaming eyes that indicated one of them was awake. Crouching down he saw it was Frodo.

"Why are you awake, Frodo?" he whispered.

"I woke a little bit ago and then I heard voices... you and Thomas were talking. I could hear what you were saying... I didn't mean to though, Aragorn. It's just so quiet. I feel bad for him Aragorn."

"It is all right, Frodo, I just think you should not speak to the others of what you heard. It is Thomas's story to tell if he so wishes. How are you doing, Frodo? I have not spoken to you much the last few days, but I have noticed your quietness." Aragorn's voice was full of concern for the hobbit who carried the fate of middle earth on a chain around his neck.

"I'm – I'm all right, Aragorn. It's getting heavier though. Some days are worse than others." Frodo smiled wearily. "I wish we could just get there and get it done with," he sighed.

"For your sake, I wish we could too. Unfortunately, I am afraid we still have many days ahead of us... and they will not all be pleasant," Aragorn looked down at Frodo sadly. "But that is in the future yet and you need to rest even if you cannot actually sleep, Frodo."

Frodo nodded and rolled over.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca awoke to the movement of a small body next to her. Opening her eyes she saw that Pippin had scooted over during the night and now occupied the spot where Thomas had lain. She was actually grateful for the extra warmth he provided. Cautiously she raised her head to look around. Thomas was sitting on a log nearby and looked half asleep though he was clearly still on watch. Legolas and Aragorn were both gone and she could see where Boromir and Gimli lay still sleeping. Wondering where Gandalf was, Rebecca turned her head more to the left and found herself looking straight into his piercing blue eyes. "Good-good morning, Gandalf," she said quietly trying to sound sincere and pleasant and not fearful.

"Good morning, young lady. Did you rest well?" Gandalf replied with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yes, sir and you?" she responded politely.

"Quite well. Now, it is time to wake the others. If you will wake the hobbits, I will deal with Boromir and Gimli."

Nodding in agreement, Rebecca started shaking the hobbits awake. "Come on, wake up. We have to leave soon." Merry, Frodo and Sam were soon up, stretching and yawning. Pippin, however, mumbled something like 'just a few more minutes, mom' and rolled over. Wondering what to do, Rebecca decided to treat him like she would her youngest cousin and so she leaned down and started tickling him.

Pippin shot straight up with a small yelp. "I'm up, I'm up!" He looked at Rebecca with narrowed eyes. "Where did you learn that trick? My sister, Prima, always does that to me to get me out of bed."

Laughing and shrugging her shoulders as she walked away, Rebecca replied, "I'll never tell." Looking for Thomas, she saw him some distance away talking with Aragorn and Boromir. Rebecca watched as Aragorn handed his sword to Thomas and they started practicing again. She shook her head, realizing how much work it took learning to use a sword. This time though it appeared to be more of a true sparring match with Boromir and Thomas 'attacking' each other. They paused often for Aragorn and Boromir to give correction and advice. Rebecca turned away, suddenly relieved that she wasn't learning to use a sword, though she did wish she at least had a knife.

With Thomas, Boromir, and Aragorn busy and Legolas gone, Rebecca didn't much feel like joining the others at the fire. True, the hobbits were there but so were Gandalf and Gimli. But she knew it would be rude to eat alone and she supposed she had to get to know Gimli sometime. She sighed as she walked to the fire to wait for breakfast. She didn't have to wait for long as it was just more of the dried meat and the crackery bread stuff they called 'cram'. She wondered if this was all they ate here or just when they traveled. Not sure who to ask and not wanting to offend anyone, Rebecca cleared her throat,

"Um... I was wondering... not that this is bad... or I'm complaining... but is this stuff the food you eat all the time around here or just when you travel?"

Six pairs of eyes stared back at her for a moment and she shifted uncomfortably on her log before the hobbits and Gimli burst into laughter and even Gandalf smiled.

"Ah, lassie, no this is strictly travel food. In the halls where I live we have great feasts of fresh meats and fresh breads and good ale." Gimli smiled fondly in remembrance.

"And that's nothing like the Shire," Pippin burst in. "We usually eat six meals a day!" Rebecca's eyes widened at that and she looked at the other hobbits to make sure Pippin was telling the truth, but they all smiled and nodded.

"We make delicious things, like custards and fruit pies and all kinds of sweet things," Frodo licked his lips.

"We grow lots of fresh vegetables in our gardens," Sam said longingly, his fingers twitching as if he could just feel the dirt between them.

"But we love mushrooms most of all!" Merry added, "In anything and in everyway."

Rebecca wrinkled her nose at that since she detested mushrooms.

"Why Lady Rebecca, do you not like mushrooms?" Gandalf asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"No, I do not!"

As the hobbits raised their voices in protest at this obvious lack of good taste, Legolas came dashing into camp and began speaking urgently to Aragorn. Rebecca watched nervously as Gandalf hurriedly joined the 'men' and was closely followed by the hobbits and Gimli. Aragorn swiftly retrieved his sword from Thomas as he listened to Legolas who was pointing into the woods. Rebecca edged closer trying to hear the discussion. It seemed Legolas had found fresh wolf tracks not far from the path they intended to travel that day. Remembering Boromir's and Gimli's descriptions of the evil creatures, Rebecca shuddered and looked around wondering if even now they could be hiding in the woods surrounding them. Looking back at the 'men' she saw Boromir gazing at her and he gave her a brief, encouraging smile before turning back to the conversation.

Making his decision, Aragorn ordered them to quickly break camp so they could be on their way. They would just have to try and go around the area where Legolas had seen the tracks hoping their passage would remain unnoticed. All along Aragorn had known that they would run into wolves, spies, orcs and other dangers but he had hoped to get over the mountains without being seen.

Pausing on his way to collect his belongings, Boromir spoke with Rebecca. "Be at peace, Lady Rebecca. Legolas only found the tracks of two wolves and even if they found us they would be no match for us. Remember we have sworn to protect you." He spoke gently seeing the fear in her eyes.

"I know but... are- are they the giant...wargs you and Gimli spoke of yesterday?" she asked. She scolded herself inwardly, I'm such a coward, and I wanted to fight, I can't let my fear stop me.

Boromir frowned, "No, these are just ordinary wolves, though they may be spies for the dark lord. We are not sure."

Unconsciously raising her chin in defiance of her fear, Rebecca replied in a much stronger voice. "Oh, okay then. There's nothing to worry about... just overgrown dogs is all. I could probably take them even with my broken wrist," she smiled, though she looked around nervously.

Boromir shook his head slowly and laughed at her attempt at humor, “You are probably right... though I beg you to leave that to us should the need arise, my lady." He bowed slightly and then moved on to gather his things.

In less than ten minutes they were on their way. Legolas was, of course, far ahead checking the trail and trying to find the wolves to see if he could kill them. Everyone else walked silently behind Gandalf as Aragorn was also walking some distance to the front. Walking between the hobbits and Thomas, Rebecca watched the woods around her, constantly moving her eyes from the path to the woods and back again. As the morning wore on Rebecca noticed that even the birds seemed to have stopped singing and the atmosphere grew increasingly oppressive. The rising tension made Rebecca want to scream for she didn't know what had caused it. She wanted to ask Thomas if it bothered him, but was afraid to turn around as the path they were currently traveling was especially rough and steep.

There was no break at lunch time, just a quick stop for Sam to pull out more dried meat and cram. He handed it out as they resumed walking. Rebecca knew she never would have made this on day one, she wasn’t even sure she could make it now. She grimaced as she walked along mentally cursing the wolves and whoever sent them if they were indeed spies.

Late in the afternoon, coming from their left and sounding quite close, was a loud high pitched noise that was quickly cut off. Boromir, Gandalf and even the hobbits pulled their swords. Thomas and Boromir quickly converged on Rebecca protectively, while Gandalf drifted back nearer the hobbits. Aragorn came back towards the group though he angled off towards the left in front of them since all were facing that way except Boromir and Gimli who kept a wary eye to the right and rear.

"Wh-what was that?" Pippin was the first to speak up.

"Was it Legolas? Is he hurt?" Merry was next, sounding uncharacteristically frightened.

"That was a wolf dieing," Aragorn replied shortly. "I only hope he got them both."

"Of course he did!"

Aragorn turned, surprised to hear Rebecca defend Legolas so strongly. At his look, Rebecca blushed and looked away. Aragorn was even more surprised by that, but was too busy to deal with it now so he turned back to the woods.

Dropping from a tree a few feet in front of Aragorn, Legolas had to laugh at the expression on his friend's face. "Ah, mellon nín, when are you going to learn to look up? You know I often travel through the trees."

Smiling faintly and ignoring his friends teasing, Aragorn turned back to the matter at hand. "Did you kill them both? We only heard the one dying."

"Yes, they are both dead and there are no other tracks around that indicate the presence of other wolves."

Everyone relaxed at his words and most sheathed their swords, though Rebecca noted that Aragorn and Boromir did not.

Since there had been no lunch break and there was a sheltered area nearby, Aragorn and Gandalf decided to stop early for the night. Thomas was exhausted Rebecca noticed, wondering if all of the sword practicing was taking too much of his energy. He had also been on watch last night and Rebecca wondered if they would let her do that. She couldn’t think of any reason why she couldn’t sit on a log and watch for danger. She decided to find a time when she could speak to Aragorn privately.

Rebecca sat and rested and watched for an opportunity to speak to Aragorn when he was alone. It was hard in such a small crowded space with so many people around. Finally, frustrated, Rebecca approached Aragorn where he sat leaning against a tree talking with Boromir.

Aragorn looked up at her and greeted her with a smile. "Lady Rebecca, come and join us," he indicated the ground next to him. "How are you feeling? I have not had a chance to speak with you today."

"You've been a little bit busy," Rebecca smiled up at him. "My wrist is feeling fine, though my legs are tired with no lunch break. Thanks for stopping early... it almost makes up for it." She laughed.

Aragorn and Boromir chuckled. "You are most welcome, Lady Rebecca, I feared your wrath if we continued." Aragorn's eyes twinkled as Rebecca laughed again.

"It is nice to stop during the day, to enjoy a bit of sunshine... but it seems strange here, Aragorn... no birds are singing. The very air seems oppressive."

Aragorn glanced up and around as he nodded thoughtfully. "I know, it is strange to me as well. I have been here in Hollin many times before and have never seen it like this." He looked at Boromir for ideas, but he shrugged and shook his head.

"Hmm, well anyway, Aragorn, I wanted to ask you a question and I know the answer is probably no, but I thought I'd ask anyway." Rebecca took a deep breath.

"You think you already know my mind on something without asking me?" Aragorn asked, taken aback. He watched Rebecca fiddle with her hair, a sign he was coming to realize indicated extreme nervousness.

"W-well yes, at least I think so," she said uncertainly.

"Rebecca," Aragorn sounded exasperated and he glanced at Boromir who grinned and shrugged, "never assume you know my mind or heart on anything. Even if I do say 'no' it might not be for the reasons you think. Always ask, remember?"

Rebecca looked up at him with a faint smile and said softly, "Well, I am, Aragorn. I just said I thought I knew the answer not that I wouldn't ask it anyway."

Boromir started chuckling and Aragorn smiled at Rebecca, "Oh, that is true, Rebecca and I apologize. Now what is your question?"

Staring intently at Aragorn, Rebecca spoke firmly, "I want to help with the watch." Seeing the frowns starting to appear on both men's faces she hurried to finish. "I know I can't fight but I can sit on a log and watch for danger. I see how tired Tommy is because he is walking, training and now doing watch too. I know I can do this Aragorn."

Aragorn examined her closely before slowly nodding. "All right, Rebecca..." Her eyes lit up in surprise. "But on one condition." Rebecca looked at him suspiciously. "You must be able to keep up with the group. If I feel you are falling behind or slowing us down in any way then you will not stand watch."

"I won't, I won't let you down Aragorn!" Rebecca couldn't believe he was actually going to let her do this. "Thank you," she added softly.

"Tell me thanks the morning after your first watch," he grunted before smiling at her enthusiasm. Rebecca just beamed back.

Rebecca soon left to join the hobbits at the fire and as soon as she was out of earshot, Boromir turned to Aragorn in fury. "Are you out of your mind? Letting her stand watch? In her condition?"

Aragorn just stared at him before sighing, "I know Boromir... but I had to. It would have broken her heart to say no... and it's been broken enough in her young life." Boromir looked at him in confusion. "Besides," he shrugged and smiled, "she is right, it is something that she can do. It will help all of us." Aragorn paused and was about to continue when he hastily stood up and peered into the distance shading his eyes with his hand.

"Boromir," he hissed urgently, "do you see it?"

"That... black cloud?" Boromir squinted trying to get a clear look. "It appears to be moving this way, Aragorn... and fast!" His eyes widened in amazement.

Aragorn swore under his breath and turned to the camp, "Quickly, we must hide," his voice was quiet, yet urgent.

Seeing the serious expression on his face everyone scrambled to their feet, gathering their belongings and racing into the woods. Rebecca shook Thomas awake and practically dragged him with her. In less than a minute the camp was deserted and all were hiding quietly in the underbrush and trees.

Rebecca was frightened as she lay next to Thomas wondering what was going on. Aragorn had sounded worried and she had never heard him like that before. She wondered if it could be more wolves, but realized that they wouldn’t be hiding like this because they couldn’t use their swords. Suddenly bursting into the clearing came a flock of loud cawing crows. They swirled and dipped and swooped back and forth for many minutes as if they were searching for something. Finally they circled one last time and flew straight back out the way they had come. Rebecca glanced over at Thomas whose eyes were staring back, "What was that?" he mouthed, not daring to even whisper until Aragorn gave an all clear sign of some kind. Rebecca shrugged and mouthed back, "No idea!"

Looking around, Thomas and Rebecca joined the others as they came crawling out of their hiding places and stood staring into the distance though the birds could no longer be seen.

"What were those birds, Strider? Those weren't normal crows." Sam looked up at Aragorn with a frown.

"No, Sam they weren't. Those were crebain out of Fangorn and Dunland. Spies most likely... looking for something...us, I imagine." Aragorn looked at Gandalf with a furrowed brow. "We must be more cautious. No more fires." The hobbits groaned at that bit of news. "Also we must move as quickly and quietly as possible and as long as possible every day..." Aragorn's eyes strayed to Rebecca and Thomas for a moment, but they both nodded firmly as he continued. "The crebain will probably be back so we will need to travel through a thicker path to try and remain hidden." Aragorn paused and ran his fingers through his hair as he thought about the possible paths they might take.

"Aragorn, who are those birds, spies for?" Merry asked quietly.

It was Gandalf who answered him, "Saruman, I would imagine. Though Sauron too bends many creatures to his will." Glancing up at the sky before turning to Aragorn, "Should we move on, Aragorn? There are a couple of hours of light yet."

Shaking his head, Boromir intervened, "I say we stay here, Gandalf. We are settled already and if we will be traveling long in the next days, there will be few opportunities for Thomas to practice... and he needs it." He looked over at Thomas with a sly smile, but Thomas only nodded in agreement before returning the smile.

As Rebecca listened absently to the 'men' her eyes were drawn to a large stand of bushes at the far side of the clearing. It seemed to be moving slightly though there was not a puff of wind. Uneasy, Rebecca edged closer to Thomas, "Uh... Aragorn, Boromir" she whispered fiercely, "should that bush be moving?" Caught by the tone of her voice, everyone looked at Rebecca.

"Which bush?" Aragorn's voice was sharp as he pulled his sword and was immediately followed by Boromir and Gandalf while Legolas had an arrow on his strung bow faster than a mortal eye could follow it. Rebecca pointed to the bushes and all could see the slight shaking of the branches.

"Lady Rebecca, Thomas, get behind me," Boromir hissed.

Rebecca moved immediately, but Thomas started to protest, "Now Thomas!" Boromir's voice was cold and commanding. Defeated, Thomas moved behind him joining Rebecca and the hobbits, though the hobbits at least had swords he realized bitterly. It reminded him of his dagger and he pulled it out as he moved over closer to Rebecca, reaching down and holding her hand. Blinking in disbelief, they watched as a pack of five wolves exploded from the underbrush and charged across the clearing heading straight towards them.

One wolf was dropped immediately and tumbled head over heels with an arrow from Legolas piercing its eye. Legolas swiftly put his bow away and got out his knifes and continued across the clearing towards the wolves. His hands were such a blur of motion that mortal eyes could not follow the movement and another wolf was soon lying dead on the ground with its throat cut and Legolas standing over it with a bloody knife in his hand.

Closing quickly with the wolves Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli engaged in their own deadly battles with the savage beasts.

Gimli charged straight ahead at the wolves and started swinging madly with his large axe. He growled right back at the beast and ignored its teeth when the wolf tried to latch onto his arm knowing his armor would protect him. The keenly honed axe soon had the wolf lying on the ground hacked to pieces.

As Aragorn thrust his sword toward the wolf he was fighting he looked for any opening or weaknesses. He danced back quickly from the snapping razor sharp teeth as the wolf lunged at him. Seeing a small opening, Aragorn drove his sword quickly into the wolf's chest, it was not a killing stroke, but it was enough to severely hamper the wolf and a moment later Aragorn slit its throat. Backing away Aragorn glanced around and noticed that all the wolves were down except the one Boromir was dealing with and he watched, amused as he finally dispatched it.

Boromir must have been frustrated because instead of the usual calm demeanor, Aragorn could hear him swearing steadily. The wolf kept trying to get around him and the beast was very quick. Finally Boromir slipped a little to the side to let it pass, and as it did, he jabbed the sword in the wolf's side, pulled it out just as quickly and loped off its head. Annoyed, Boromir kicked the wolf as he leaned down to clean his sword.

In spite of the seriousness of their situation, Aragorn's lips twitched watching Boromir as he kicked the wolf. Then, glancing around the clearing again he took stock of their situation focusing on the hobbits and Thomas and Rebecca which reminded him of who had alerted him to the presence of the wolves in the first place. He strode quickly over to speak with her.

"Lady Rebecca?" His voice sounded loud in the sudden stillness that had descended on the clearing.

"Y-yes Aragorn?"

Aragorn smiled at her then, sensing her unease. "Earlier, when you asked to be on watch I was hesitant to allow it but you have just proven me wrong. Maybe you should be on watch all the time..." he teased, "since all the rest of us..." he gestured around him, "missed what you spotted. Well done." He smiled again.

Rebecca smiled back, "Thank you... I'm just glad no one was hurt. Uh... by the way, you guys are really good." She looked from Aragorn to Boromir to Gimli before resting her gaze on Legolas.

"Lots of practice," Aragorn said dryly. "Now some of you..." he looked pointedly at Rebecca and the hobbits, "need to go and rest. We will move the bodies of the wolves out of the clearing, otherwise it will be a clear sign that someone was here. Boromir, if you are not too tired...," Boromir shot him a dirty look. "Maybe you and Thomas can get in some practice before dark." Aragorn hesitated, not really wanting his sword out of his hands at this time, but then gave it to Thomas.

As the group dispersed, Legolas approached Aragorn, a troubled look on his face. "Forgive me, mellon nín," he spoke quietly.

"Forgive you? For what, Legolas?" Aragorn looked at his friend in surprise.

"I missed their tracks. I should have seen them." Legolas hissed angrily. "Someone could have been hurt or killed. And even if I missed their tracks, I should have sensed them here."

Aragorn stopped and faced his friend. "We all missed them here... well, except for Rebecca,” he laughed slightly. Turning serious, "Legolas it is a big forest. Maybe they just now arrived, following the crebain." Aragorn shrugged. "I do not blame you... if anything I blame myself for being distracted by the birds and talking. But it is in the past and we cannot dwell on it," he smiled at Legolas who nodded.

0-0-0-0-0

"One thing before we begin, Thomas." Boromir started speaking quietly as they moved away from the others. He slowed, then stopped and turned to face Thomas so he could look directly into his eyes. When Boromir spoke again his voice was cold and hard, "Thomas, when I give you an order, I expect you to obey it without question. A battle is not the time or place to start questioning my decisions, do you understand?" Boromir's gaze was as cold as his voice and Thomas nodded abruptly.

"Yes sir, I do... I'm sorry about earlier..." Thomas's voice trailed off.

"I know you want to help, but you have to think first. You only had a dagger and you could have been killed." Boromir's voice warmed slightly, "Thomas, I have been in too many battles and seen too many lads killed over the years because they would not listen and learn or they did not think. I do not want you to be one of them. You must think with your head...", here Boromir tapped Thomas lightly on the forehead with his finger, "during battle and not with your heart...," he tapped Thomas's chest. "Otherwise your emotions will get you into trouble. Save your emotions for women, they will cause you enough trouble!" he laughed lightly as Thomas blushed. "Come now. And after practice Thomas, I will tell you all you need to know about women."

0-0-0-0-0

It was still dark when Aragorn shook Rebecca awake. "Come quietly," he whispered, holding her hand to guide her. With no fire and only the faint starlight overhead, Rebecca stumbled, but was caught by Aragorn before she fell.

"Aragorn! I can't see a thing, it's too dark," she whispered.

"Just a couple more steps... here, sit," he helped her down to the ground.

"Well this is fun... I hope you don't plan on leaving me here because I'd be lost," Rebecca squinted trying in vain to see Aragorn though her eyes were slowly adjusting and she was starting to see vague outlines of things. Total silence met her remarks though. She yawned tiredly. "Oh come on Aragorn, it's too early to be teasing me. I know you're right there, trying to scare me."

Aragorn chuckled, "You sound quite disagreeable this morning, Lady Rebecca."

Sighing, Rebecca looked in the direction the voice came from, "Well, I'm just tired and not in the mood for being teased right now," she said irritably.

"Forgive me, Lady Rebecca for disturbing your sleep," Aragorn's voice was sincere since he knew how much she truly needed the rest. "But I wanted to give you something before we leave this morning and I knew there would be no time later."

"Oh, a present," Rebecca perked up.

"Yes, but probably not what you are expecting," Aragorn replied dryly.

"Well, since we haven't passed a single store since I've been here, I doubt you've been able to do a lot of shopping for me," she responded in the same tone.

Laughing quietly, Aragorn reached out and clasped her hand. "No, this" he pressed something long and thin into Rebecca's hand, "is a dagger."

Rebecca sucked in her breath in surprise, turning the sheathed dagger over in her hands to feel its size and shape. "B-but, Aragorn, you said..."

"I know what I said, Rebecca," Aragorn interrupted her. "But...you will be on watch and seeing the wolves today..." he paused momentarily. "You cannot be totally defenseless, Rebecca. Have you ever used a dagger before?"

"No..." Rebecca replied slowly, but Aragorn heard the smile in her voice, "But I have used a kitchen knife lots and lots of times. To cut up chicken and meat and stuff like that."

"It is not the same thing, Rebecca," Aragorn said. "However it will have to be enough that you at least feel comfortable with it in your hands."

"After today, I know it's not. But thanks for it anyway. I feel better just knowing I have it."

“You are welcome. I just hope that you never have to use it," Aragorn said fervently.

"Me too, Aragorn, me too."

"Come, let's wake the others. We must leave soon."

"Aragorn, just how are we supposed to walk when it’s this dark?"

"It will be difficult, Rebecca and I want you to stay with Boromir so he can help you. I do not want you to re-injure your wrist."

"All right, Aragorn."

And so began another day.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Elvish Translations:

Mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 8 - The Mountain

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 8 – The Mountain

They had been walking for close to an hour and there was still no sign of the sunrise. Passing through the thickets and trees would have been difficult during daylight, it was almost impossible in the dark. Still the Fellowship struggled on as quietly as possible. Only an occasional whisper, usually a curse, broke the silence.

As Aragorn had requested, Rebecca stayed near the rear of the group, walking with Boromir. Several times already Boromir had had to grab her arm to steady her or to keep her from falling as she stumbled. Finally, Boromir halted and took her hand, “Lady Rebecca, you are going to re-injure your wrist. I want you to just wrap your arm through mine and we will try walking together... maybe we can keep each other upright.” Boromir spoke quietly.

“All right, Boromir... I’m willing to try. I really don’t want to hurt this any further.”

Rebecca was concentrating so hard on not falling that she didn’t see the first faint tinge of pink that was edging the tips of the Misty Mountains to the east. It was fifteen minutes later that she realized she was beginning to see the outlines of her feet and the things around her. Surprised, she looked up and smiled at the approach of dawn. She had never been so glad to see the sun come up in her life. Rebecca quickly looked back down though when she stumbled causing Boromir to tighten his grip. “Sorry Boromir... I was looking for the sun.” Rebecca was apologetic.

“Still, you must be careful... though I too am glad too see it.”

“You just want to rid yourself of your burden!” Rebecca teased quietly.

Looking down at Rebecca, Boromir replied, “Hmmm... that could be it... yes, I am sure that you are correct Lady Rebecca.” Boromir’s voice was so dry and serious that Rebecca almost believed him, until she looked up and saw the amused twinkle in his eye.

“And you say I have a strange sense of humor!” Rebecca laughed, trying to keep her voice down. Turning serious she said quietly, “Boromir, may I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Thomas and I have been talking and we know we are going to your city, Minas Tirith. But neither of us knows how far away that is or how long it takes to get there. And maybe if we ever have time you could draw us a map.”

“The map part is easy and if we stop during the daylight I can draw one for you and Thomas. Distance to Minas Tirith from here... hmmm, well Aragorn could tell you more accurately, but I would say it is about 750 miles.”

“We have to walk that far!” Rebecca interrupted.

“Lady Rebecca, you have walked close to 80 miles since you have been here. We do not have to walk the whole way tomorrow.” Boromir’s voice held a trace of amusement. “In any case, depending on the route Aragorn and Gandalf choose it should take us about four weeks.”

“Four more weeks of walking? Of being out in the wilderness? Of being surrounded by ten men all the time?” she whispered faintly and then blinked, glancing up at Boromir to see if he was offended by her last comment.

“I am truly sorry, Lady Rebecca. I know this is hard for you. But you will not be surrounded by ten men all the time...”

“I’m sorry I said that,” Rebecca looked away, embarrassed.

“I am not offended,” Boromir said gently. “But we are not all going to Minas Tirith. Aragorn and I are going there. Gandalf is taking the hobbits to Mordor and I am not sure what Legolas and Gimli are planning. We all just agreed to go to the other side of this mountain.” Boromir pointed to the looming snow-capped peak in front of them. “From there we will split up.”

“What will happen to Thomas and I? Who will we go with?” Rebecca’s voice trembled as she asked. Even though the thought of four more weeks of being surrounded by these ‘men’ dismayed her, she didn’t want to lose them either. She had thought they would all be together in Minas Tirith where she could see them. These men were quickly becoming her family here, brothers, cousins, uncles... or whatever.

Boromir laid his hand gently on her shoulder, “I imagine that you will come to Minas Tirith with Aragorn and me. Aragorn has taken you both on as his responsibility and is quite fond of the two of you... as am I,” Boromir smiled kindly.

“Thank you, Boromir.” She smiled. “Also you did promise to show me around your fair city so I guess I’ll have to go with you and Aragorn. Though I will miss the hobbits and... everyone else.” Rebecca sighed deeply.

“We all will, Lady Rebecca, but Valar willing we shall see them again. And yes I did promise to show you my city and to that I hold true.” Boromir’s eyes sparkled and took on that distant look. “Now Lady Rebecca, we must stop talking and focus on our walking,” though he softened his words with a smile.

0-0-0-0-0

The crebain flew over again about mid-morning. Loud cawing alerted the Fellowship to their presence so they were safely hidden by the time the birds flew over. The crows swooped and circled over a large area, but the birds did not stay long and they moved on.

As the day passed, the trail continued to climb ever upward. Walking became easier at times as they stumbled across what appeared to be an ancient road. It was broken and rough, but it still provided a measure of relief from the forest, though Aragorn would not allow them to stay on it for long periods of time.

Walking in the front of the Fellowship, out of earshot of the others, Aragorn and Gandalf continued their discussion of which path to take - Moria or Caradhras.

“Aragorn, I still think Moria is the safer way for us. I fear for the hobbits on the mountain. The potential for snow is too great.”

Shaking his head vehemently, “No, Gandalf, we cannot take that road. It is a dark place. I will not pass through the mines again unless we have no other choice.” Aragorn spoke quietly, but sharply and there was a dark and shadowed look upon his face. “We have to risk the mountain, Gandalf.”

“It is a big risk, Aragorn,” Gandalf said softly, glancing at Aragorn out of the corner of his eye. “Are you sure it is wise?”

Aragorn snorted in disbelief. “All of this is a big risk! Do you think Moria is less of a risk? No one knows what evil dwells there, Gandalf. No, we only have three choices; the Gap of Rohan, which is too close to Isengard; Caradhras; or Moria.” Aragorn paused momentarily. “I would rather deal with snow than with orcs or whatever evil creatures dwell in the mines, Gandalf.”

“All right, Aragorn,” Gandalf agreed reluctantly. “Let us brave Caradhras and the Redhorn Gate then and hope that snow I see will stay there and not drift down to the pass.” Gandalf looked from the mountain back to Aragorn who smiled back grimly.

“Valar willing it will.”

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn allowed a break at noon and Thomas and Rebecca sank to the ground gratefully. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Thomas noticed Rebecca looking at her broken wrist pensively.

“What’s the matter, Rebecca? Did you hurt it again?”

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” she smiled at Thomas. “I was just looking at this dirty sock around it and the arrow shafts – arrow shafts! – bracing it and this other stuff here.” Rebecca pointed at the various wraps as she shook her head. “I haven’t taken a bath in almost ten days, haven’t washed my hair, don’t have clean clothes, no toothpaste or toothbrush... I could go on. And I was talking with Boromir this morning and it could be another month to get to Minas Tirith.”

“A month?”

“Yes, a month, Thomas. So, I’m staring at my wrist thinking, how is this all possible? Part of me wants to cry – for my home and my-my family . But also for just simple things like clean clothes and soap and showers and my own private bedroom,” she sighed. “But then I realize that crying won’t do me any good and won’t help or change any of this...” Rebecca gestured around her. “Better to just accept it somehow and I’m not sure how to do that... but I know I have to. At least you’re in the same boat with me.” Rebecca laughed though deep sadness lurked in her eyes.

“A hot bath does sound nice... and clothes,” Thomas sighed longingly. “And some ‘real’ food,” he held up the dried meat he was eating and wrinkled his nose at it before turning serious again. “Rebecca, what are we going to do when we get to Minas Tirith? Do we get jobs? What can we do here in middle earth?”

Rebecca shrugged and looked thoughtful, “I don’t know Thomas. I never thought about it before. We’ll have to do something for money to live on. If-if we don’t go home.” She stared down at her feet for a moment, blinking back tears before looking up at him. “I wonder if I can get a job being a waitress here?” she frowned.

“Well, they have horses here, so maybe I could get a job doing that.” Thomas shook his head. “I guess we just wait and see what happens.”

“I know, Legolas is a prince and his dad is a king, we could stay with him!” Rebecca said jokingly though she blushed and looked away.

Thomas frowned at that, not sure that he liked Rebecca’s reaction whenever Legolas’s name was mentioned. “Well... I think I’d rather make my own way than have Legolas or anyone take care of us.” Thomas responded a little bit rougher than he intended.

“Us? What do you mean us?” Rebecca asked sharply.

Thomas looked at her blankly. “I – I meant just that... us... you and me. I assumed we would stay together. We’re friends, we’re both from earth and... don’t you want to stay together?” he finally asked in confusion.

Rebecca shrugged, “I suppose so. Then you’ll meet some beautiful girl and get married and I’ll meet some handsome guy and get married.” Someone who’s tall with long blonde hair and pointed ears, she thought dreamily. “But it’s not like we can just live together the two of us.” Both Thomas and Rebecca blushed. “We’ll have to figure something else out.” She shrugged again. “Sounds like we’ll have lots of time.”

Nodding, Thomas pulled Rebecca to her feet as Aragorn was ready to move on.

0-0-0-0-0

Silence descended on the Fellowship once again as they continued their trek upwards. The underbrush thinned the higher they climbed which made it easier for walking, but gave them fewer places to hide during the unwelcome visits from the crebain. The weather had warmed considerably and heavy cloaks and coats were being untied or unbuttoned and thrown open.

Aragorn glanced up at the sun, judging there were at least two hours of good daylight left. He thought If they could keep this pace, they would be at the edge of the tree line tomorrow evening. Checking on the ones behind him, his eyes were immediately drawn to Frodo. Sorrow filled Aragorn as he took in the hobbits pale face and tired eyes. He could tell the hobbit had not slept again last night and he wondered how he had the strength to go on. Aragorn decided they would stop earlier than planned so that Frodo could rest and Thomas could practice his sword skills. Turning, Aragorn walked on, his keen eyes and senses attuned to his surroundings.

Rebecca was relieved, though somewhat surprised when Aragorn called a halt with the sun still shining as she was sure the plan had been to walk well into the night. Gratefully however, she sat down, quickly untying and pulling off a boot, and started rubbing her foot.

“Are your feet bothering you, Lady Rebecca?”

Startled, she jumped and almost fell of the log she was perched on. Strong hands caught her and held her steady and she looked up into the amused eyes of Legolas.

“Wh-what?”

“I asked if your feet were bothering you.” Legolas’s voice was full of concern.

“Oh... well, yes a little,” Rebecca replied, distracted by his presence. “It’s been another long day of walking...” frowning, she looked down at her feet and shrugged, “of course they hurt.”

“Those are not your socks,” Legolas observed quietly.

“No-o... these are Aragorn’s. Mine are on here.” Rebecca held up her broken wrist for his inspection. “Aragorn gave me a pair of his the day it rained. And then he put mine on here for extra protection.” Rebecca looked at Legolas questioningly, “Legolas, what’s wrong? My feet are just a little sore. I’m sure I’ll feel fine in the morning.” She watched him a little uncertainly not sure why he was acting this way.

“Lady Rebecca, I need to see your feet.” Legolas looked up at her intently from where he was kneeling next to her.

“Wh-what? Why? There’s nothing wrong with them...” Rebecca blushed and turned away, embarrassed, from his gaze.

Legolas reached out and gently took her chin and turned her head back to face him. “Why are you embarrassed Lady Rebecca? Do you still not trust me? Or think I will hurt you in some way?”

Rebecca sighed and shook her head slightly, “I-I trust you Legolas and I know you won’t hurt me... It’s just looking at my feet seems so personal and...” her voice trailed off.

“Ah, I see.” Legolas’s eyes twinkled in amusement. “Well, perhaps we should let Aragorn check your feet, then.” He looked around seeing Aragorn engaged in practicing with Boromir and Thomas and then glanced up at the sun.

Rebecca followed his eyes and noticed the same things Legolas saw.

“Lady Rebecca, I am sorry, but Aragorn is busy, the sun will soon be down and there will be no fire tonight. Your feet must be checked now. Your choice is me or Gandalf as the hobbits and Gimli have no knowledge of healing.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened at the thought of Gandalf touching her. She couldn’t imagine letting the wizard near her feet and she knew it would have to be Legolas and she groaned inwardly. This was not the way Rebecca wanted him touching her. “All right Legolas,” she said quietly. Without looking at him, she reached down and slowly slid off her sock. She felt smooth, soft hands gently pick up her foot. Rebecca looked down, surprised that this thousands of year old warrior elf could have such soft, smooth, gentle hands. She watched as he softly and carefully inspected her foot stopping in places and rubbing gently. Finally Legolas placed her foot lightly on the ground and took a small pouch from his side before looking up at Rebecca.

“There are a few spots, Lady Rebecca, which if left untended, would become blisters. That is what I feared for you,” Legolas frowned slightly. “Your other foot is probably the same...” he paused briefly. “Now that we know for certain, you can wait and have Aragorn put on some of his medicine, which can be done even in the dark, or I have an elvish salve I could put on and then I would wrap your feet.” Legolas looked up at her questioningly.

“Does elvish medicine work on humans?” Rebecca asked confused.

“Yes. Otherwise I would not use it on you,” Legolas’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Then why should I wait? Oh...” Rebecca looked away for a moment before meeting Legolas’s eyes. “I’m sorry Legolas,” she whispered. “I want you to go ahead.”

“Very well.” Legolas rapidly untied her other boot and pulled it and her sock off. Again he gently inspected her foot while Rebecca watched fascinated. Evidently feeling her gaze on him he looked up and winked at her which caused her to blush and him to laugh.

Finally, Legolas took the salve and warmed it between his hands briefly before applying it to Rebecca’s feet. He rubbed it in carefully all around her left foot as far up as her ankle. He massaged it in deeply and lingered over the places of potential blisters.

For Rebecca it was sweet torture and she didn’t know how to react. She knew Legolas was just being kind and helping her but it stirred far different emotions in her. She already liked him and she knew this would make it worse. Sighing, she looked over at the hobbits trying to distract herself.

“Lady Rebecca, am I hurting you?”

“No...no, Legolas you’re not hurting me,” pausing, Rebecca considered whether to go on. “In fact it feels very good.” Her cheeks turned faintly pink.

“Good. The salve must sink in deeply to be effective.” Legolas commented absently as he stopped massaging her foot and quickly wrapped it expertly. He slid her sock back on and then her boot, lacing and tying it neatly.

“I can’t wait for my wrist to heal so I can do that myself.”

Legolas grinned at her as he grabbed her right foot and quickly repeated the whole process. He was just finishing when Aragorn approached.

“What happened? Are you injured Rebecca?” Aragorn asked in concern.

Smiling up at him reassuringly, Rebecca shook her head, “No, I’m fine now, Legolas fixed it.”

“What was the matter?” Aragorn asked sharply, fixing his eyes on Legolas.

Legolas quickly explained while Rebecca stood and rocked slightly back and forth wiggling her toes to see how her wrapped feet felt in her boots. Smiling she looked down at her boots realizing her feet felt better than they had in several days. She looked back up to find two pairs of eyes studying her intently.

“How do your feet feel, Rebecca?”

“Really good, Aragorn. The best since I’ve been here.” Rebecca smiled at Legolas, “Thanks so much, Legolas.”

Bowing, “You are most welcome, Lady Rebecca.” Legolas gave her a small smile before turning and walking off.

Rebecca’s eyes followed him for a moment before she remembered that Aragorn was still standing in front of her. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, Rebecca quickly turned her eyes to Aragorn only to find him frowning at her thoughtfully.

“Rebecca, I want you to stand first watch tonight.”

Nodding, Rebecca tried to look serious though inside she was both excited and nervous. “Aragorn, how long is a watch? Who do I wake up next?”

“It is a couple of hours, I will be on second watch and I will wake myself up.”

“You can do that?” Rebecca looked up at him skeptically.

“Yes. I can wake within a couple of minutes of when I tell myself to be up,” Aragorn shrugged. “Years of practice and living among elves mostly.”

Rebecca just shook her head, not really surprised anymore at the things he or Legolas or any of the others could do.

0-0-0-0-0

Keeping watch, while scary at times with the rustling noises of small animals, was boring, but thankfully uneventful for Rebecca. The hardest part was fighting sleep as the hour grew late. When Aragorn relieved her she stumbled off to bed and was asleep instantly. Moments later she was pulled to her feet, food was shoved at her and Boromir was helping her along as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.

“Didn’t we just do this, Boromir?” Rebecca asked sleepily.

“Yes, indeed we did,” he whispered.

“Thought so,” she mumbled, yawning.

Boromir just laughed quietly.

0-0-0-0-0

The day proceeded much as the day before. In the darkness before dawn the Fellowship moved quietly, lost in their thoughts until an occasional quiet curse broke the silence. The underbrush was now almost entirely gone and as the sun rose the group watched the sky warily for sight of the crebain. But they did not appear.

Wearily, they marched on through the day pausing only briefly at noon. After lunch the wind picked up blowing cold air straight down off the mountain. Cloaks and coats that had been open the day before in the warm sun were now tightly wrapped around small hobbit bodies and larger human ones. Though the elf, nimbly walking alongside Aragorn, remained unaffected by the cold as he did all other weather.

Just as the sun was dipping into the west they reached the edge of the tree line and Aragorn called a stop for the night. Panting, Pippin threw himself to the ground and looked up at Aragorn pleadingly, “Aragorn, couldn’t we please have a fire tonight? Just a small one? So Sam could cook some dinner? I need something hot after today.”

Looking down at him fondly, “No, we cannot Pippin. We might attract ‘visitors’ to our camp. You know that as well as I do, young hobbit,” Aragorn spoke quietly but firmly.

“I know, Aragorn, but I’m so hungry for real food.” Pippin sighed dramatically as he rubbed his stomach.

“Come on, Pip. Leave Aragorn alone.” Merry reached down and yanked Pippin to his feet before handing him some dried meat and cram.

0-0-0-0-0

It was an hour into his watch when Thomas heard a slight stirring in the camp. Trying to see in that direction was pointless, but he was not surprised when he heard Aragorn’s voice next to him.

“Peace, Thomas.”

“Morning, Aragorn. You must not need much sleep.”

Aragorn responded dryly, “Oh, I have learned to do without when needed. My sleep was disturbed.”

There was a rustling sound as Aragorn filled his pipe and lit it carefully. Soon the pleasant scent of pipe-weed filled the early morning air. The two sat quietly for a long time enjoying the peacefulness. It was Aragorn who finally broke the stillness.

“Your sword work is improving rapidly Thomas. I wish we had an extra sword for you. I am tempted to take one of the hobbit’s for you... but the short length would not be much better than your dagger .”

“Thanks, it means a lot coming from you.”

“You are welcome. But you still have a long way to go to catch up to me!” Aragorn chuckled.

“Yes, sir, I imagine so. I think you have had a few more years of practice than me.” Thomas grinned in the dark. His voice turned serious. “Aragorn, Rebecca told me that she and I would probably be going to Minas Tirith with you and Boromir. Is that right?”

“Yes, that is the plan. Why?”

“We wondered what we would do there. How would we live? Can we get jobs? I can work with horses and Rebecca worked in a restaurant serving food... we could do that... though she made some silly comment about since Legolas is a prince maybe we could stay with him and he could take care of us...”

Because it was dark, Thomas did not see the deep frown that covered Aragorn’s face at that comment.

“But I want to make my own way, Aragorn. She may have been joking anyway.”

“Hmmm, well in any case mortals do not usually venture into Legolas’s home of Mirkwood. As for you and what you will do, all I can say is that Boromir and I will find some way for you to earn your bread. Be it as a soldier, working with horses or something. Boromir is an important man in Minas Tirith.”

“Legolas said he was a Lord,” Thomas remembered suddenly. “He will help us find jobs then.”

“Yes, I am sure he will be able to help,” Aragorn said dryly. “Boromir’s father is the Steward of Gondor and Boromir is his heir.”

Thomas could hear the amusement in Aragorn’s voice, but didn’t know why it was there. “What’s a Steward?”

Shifting slightly on the ground, Aragorn took his time answering Thomas. “The Steward rules the whole country of Gondor in the name of the King,” he began slowly. “Minas Tirith is the largest city in Gondor and the Steward resides there. The King... has been gone for almost a thousand years...”

“A thousand years?”

“Yes Thomas, thousand years and the Stewards were left in charge. The title passes from father to son, so someday Boromir will be the ruling Steward of Gondor.”

“Wow,” Thomas whispered softly, “He’s like a prince too, isn’t he Aragorn?”

“Yes Thomas, very much so.”

“But he’s so nice and treats me like... I don’t know... like a younger brother or something. I never knew anyone so important back home. Now I know two princes, a wizard, a hobbit who holds the fate of this world in his hands.” Thomas stopped and looked over to where he knew Aragorn was sitting and asked sharply, “And you, Aragorn? Who are you, then? Everyone else seems to be someone important so you must be too.”

Surprised at his perception, Aragorn chuckled lightly before answering. “I am the Captain of the Rangers of the North and the Chieftain of the Dúnadain.” Aragorn knew that Thomas would not know that both titles meant the same thing and hoped that it would impress him enough to let the matter drop. It seemed to.

“Hmmm, Captain and a Chieftain, well maybe I could work for you then.” Thomas commented, not believing Aragorn. It didn’t make sense that he was only be a captain and still in charge of this group.

“Yes, yes I hope you will someday. Now, Thomas we must wake them up and be on our way. We have a long way to go.”

Thomas snorted, “You say that like it’s different than yesterday. Or the day before that. Or the one...”

Aragorn cuffed him lightly on the head as he laughed, “I get your point, Thomas. Come on.”

0-0-0-0-0

As they left that morning each person, at Boromir’s insistence, carried as much wood on their back as possible. Even Bill the pony had some added to his already considerable load. It had taken a brief argument with Boromir before he agreed to let Rebecca carry any wood. Then Rebecca watched him carefully as he bundled it up and tied it to her shoulders making sure he gave her a full load.

“You know I worry about you, Lady Rebecca,” Boromir said quietly. “I do not want you to fall and hurt yourself again.”

“I know, Boromir, I know. But...” Rebecca hesitated, fiddling with a button on her coat absently. “This isn’t that heavy and I want to do my fair share too,” she finally whispered.

“Lady Rebecca, first of all, if you were well, I would expect you to help and do your fair share out here in the wilderness,” Boromir gestured around them. “Though noble young ladies such as yourself...” Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but Boromir laid his fingers warningly on her lips. “... do not normally tote loads of wood. And yes, you are a noble young lady, whether you see yourself that way or not.” Boromir smiled at her look of confusion. “I can tell that you come from a noble family in your own world. You cannot hide that, Lady Rebecca.”

“We don’t have noble families in my country. Just rich people and poor people... we were sort of in the middle. Definitely not noble, Boromir!”

“You are noble inside, Lady Rebecca, where it counts the most,” Boromir said graciously before moving away to talk with Aragorn and Gandalf, leaving Rebecca standing there shaking her head.

They started off as the sun peeked over the edge of the mountains to the east, quickly climbing up the rocky face of the mountain. It felt strangely naked to be out from under the protection of the trees. Following a faint trail left by the many people that had used the Redhorn Gate over the years, they made steady progress up the steep incline. Around noon light snow was added to the wind which had been swirling around them all morning.

Aragorn looked up as the snow started falling and cursed softly under his breath. Despite what he had told Gandalf he was concerned about the dangers of snow on the mountain, especially for the hobbits. The stories about this mountain went back for centuries and he did not take them lightly. Speed was what he hoped would take them over the pass before the worst of the storm hit. Looking up however, Aragorn could see that the clouds were already covering the pass and it would be almost impossible to make it over in time. Still they had to try since he believed that anything was better than attempting Moria, Aragorn shuddered and it was not from the cold. Behind him he could hear the voices of the hobbits and Thomas and Rebecca as they laughed and lightly talked about how much fun could be had in the snow. That will change before this day is over, he thought grimly.

Thomas looked over at Rebecca and smiled, “Snow! Maybe we can go ice-fishing!” he laughed.

“Skiing seems more likely up here.” Rebecca shivered and pulled her hood up and buttoned it.

“What’s ice-fishing?

“What’s skiing?”

Rebecca and Thomas looked up to see that Merry and Pippin had dropped back and had asked the questions though Sam and Frodo were also looking back curiously.

“Oh, well in Minnesota, where we come from, we get lots of snow in the winter and we have lots of lakes there too. The lakes freeze so you chop a hole in the ice, put in a fishing pole and fish,” Thomas explained with a shrug and a smile.

“Sounds... cold,” Merry shivered.

“Sure, but you go with friends and you dress warm, its lots of fun. And the fish are really good to eat.” Thomas was licking his lips as he looked down at the hobbits.

“And skiing is...?” Pippin looked at Rebecca.

“I’ve only done downhill skiing once. Basically you go up a mountain, you put these thin boards on your feet and you slide down as fast as possible. It’s hard to steer though. Takes lots of practice, but it is fun.” Rebecca looked down at the hobbits to find them staring at her as if she’d grown a second head.

“You have to climb a mountain just to slide down on boards?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“How could that be fun?” Merry looked up at Rebecca and Thomas.

“Sounds like work.” Pippin shook his head.

Thomas chuckled, “We don’t climb the mountain ourselves...oh careful, Pip!” Thomas grabbed Pippin and pulled him back up from where he had fallen. “Are you all right?” At his nod, Thomas continued, “Anyway, we have machines that carry us up mountains so we can ski. Remember like we told you about our buses and cars when we first got here? It’s sort of like that.” He paused and looked up the mountain at the rapidly increasing snowfall, “I wish we had one now!” Grinning down at the hobbits, he noticed their feet which caused him to frown slightly. “Are you warm enough without shoes? In this snow?”

Frodo laughed, “Our feet will be fine, Thomas. Hobbit feet have never had shoes or other protection. The rest of our bodies will just have to get along... just like yours,” he said pointedly.

“I’m afraid it’s going to get worse,” Rebecca commented nodding at the dark clouds that had descended on the peak of the mountain.

Indeed almost as soon as Rebecca had spoken the snow increased dramatically. Soon the snow was flying around them so thickly that they could barely see each other. The snow on the ground steadily grew until it covered their ankles. In the front, Aragorn called a halt though Rebecca didn’t realize it until she plowed into the back of Thomas almost knocking him down and banging her eye on a piece of the wood he carried.

Rubbing her eye gently, Rebecca moved away, huddling with the hobbits near the pony as the wind continued to swirl around them. She noticed that the longer they stopped, the more the wind and snow seemed to drop off, though she thought it was just her imagination. Rebecca was pulled from her thoughts when she felt something being placed around her. Knowing it would do her no good to argue, and not sure she wanted to anyway since she was so cold, Rebecca stood still as Legolas placed his cloak over her. He smoothed it carefully over the wood she carried before gracefully stepping around in front of her, pulling the hood up and tying it under her chin and then started fastening the ties down the front.

Frustrated at not being able to even tie a cloak because of her broken wrist, Rebecca stared down at the snow as he worked on the ties.

“Are you all right, mellon nín?”

“Oh...oh yes, Legolas, I’m fine.” Rebecca smiled up at him, “Just tired of not being able to do simple little things like tying by myself.” She shivered, “But thanks for the cloak... but maybe Frodo should have it instead? He’s the most important one here.”

Legolas looked down at her with a look of surprise, “You are most welcome for the cloak, Lady Rebecca. And as for Frodo... you are correct that he is, if course, important to the fate of middle earth, but he would not be able to walk in my cloak and you can.” He stared at her intently for a moment, “If we stop and you choose to share my cloak with Frodo, I will understand.” Legolas gave her a brief smile as he finished tying the cloak together.

Rebecca watched, stunned as Legolas walked lightly on top of the snow to speak with Aragorn. She looked down at the hobbits to find them gazing after Legolas with wide eyes. Rebecca nudged Merry, who was standing closest to her, “I wish I were an elf!” she said, smiling when he looked up at her.

Merry and the other hobbits laughed and nodded in agreement.

They finally continued up the mountain and almost immediately the wind and the snow increased. Each step became a struggle as the wind blew steadily into their faces like a giant hand holding them back. Aragorn placed the hobbits between the taller humans trying to shield them from the worst of the wind, but eventually the storm was too much for all of them. Stopping near a rock wall that towered above them, Aragorn knew they could no go farther.

“Gandalf, we have to stop here.” Aragorn shouted as he leaned in close to Gandalf to make himself heard over the storm.

Gandalf nodded in agreement, “Indeed we cannot go on or we will not survive.” Glancing up at the rock above them he continued, “This is probably the best place to stay for a long way in either direction.”

“I know. We must get them settled and as warm as possible.”

Aragorn, Boromir and Gandalf quickly got the hobbits settled at the base of the rock wall with Thomas and Rebecca at each end and the pony in front as a wind break. Unnoticed by all, except Legolas, Rebecca had managed to slip off the cloak and wrap it around Frodo. Frodo was so cold that he had not even realized or seen where it had come from.

Rebecca sat with her knees drawn up close to her body with her head resting on top of her uninjured right arm that was lying across her knees. Her injured wrist was pressed tightly to her stomach. Shivering, she moved even closer to Merry trying to steal some of his body warmth. She felt someone sit down on her other side and was grateful for it cut off the wind and provided additional warmth. Glancing up she smiled at Boromir as he wrapped the edge of his cloak around her.

“Thanks.”

Boromir nodded before looking past Rebecca to the hobbits. He leaned in close to her ear. “I worry about the hobbits. I fear they will not survive in this cold.”

Turning to see for herself, Rebecca noticed the blue lips and violent shivering of all four hobbits. Looking back at Boromir she met his eyes, “You’re right, Boromir. They won’t last long in this weather.” She watched as he stood abruptly, leaving her side exposed to the wind once again, and made his way over to Aragorn and Gandalf.

“Aragorn! We must have a fire. The hobbits will die in this cold if we do not get them warm.” Boromir stood leaning in close to both Aragorn and Gandalf. “I know Gandalf that you did not want to use fire, but we must.”

“We appear to have little choice now. See if you can start one.”

Starting a fire proved difficult. Boromir, Gimli and Legolas all tried, but with the wind, snow and wet wood all of their effort were fruitless. Finally in desperation, Gandalf had to resort to magic to light the fire, though it concerned him to do so for anyone watching would plainly see that he was on the mountain. The fire sputtered and hissed and kept just enough of the cold off so they could survive the night.

Aragorn stood brooding through the night wrapped tightly in his cloak as watched the snow and wind swirl around him and his companions who huddled close to the fire. His thoughts were mainly focused on the mistake he had made of leading them up the mountain against the wisdom of Gandalf. Though he would do it again, he sighed inwardly. The darkness of Moria was not a place for any to go willingly... and to take these hobbits and Rebecca and Thomas there seems utter foolishness. And yet they had no other choice. Aragorn’s gaze moved to the group around the fire and he looked at the hobbits and the two young people who had been suddenly thrust into his care, his eyes lingered on Frodo and Rebecca the longest. He shook his head and closed his eyes briefly, the burden of responsibility he carried on his shoulders overwhelming him for a moment. Some king I’ll make, he thought disparagingly, I can’t even take care of a small group of people.

Aragorn started when he felt a hand touch him briefly on his back, “What troubles you, mellon nín?”

Aragorn turned and looked into Legolas’s perceptive blue eyes and his first thought was to brush off his concerns, but he knew that would never work as Legolas knew him too well. “Many things, Legolas, many things.”

Legolas stood waiting for him to continue and so sighing he went on.

“I was a fool to lead us this way. Gandalf did not want to come here, but I insisted and now look at us. We could all die here.”

“And?”

“Is that not enough?”

“You said many things were troubling you. That was only one.” Legolas’s voice held a trace of amusement.

“I fear our only other option will be Moria...” Legolas hissed at that. “My thought exactly, which is why I wanted to try this way. But I worry about taking Rebecca and the hobbits that way.”

“No way is safe, Aragorn. You know that. In your heart you know that.”

“I do. But I would protect them from that at least.”

“Sometimes our path is laid before us and we have to follow where it takes us. Do not doubt yourself or your abilities or your decisions.” Legolas smiled at his friend.

“You know me too well, Legolas,” Aragorn shook his head with a faint smile.

Legolas gave him a small bow and walked away leaving Aragorn alone again with his thoughts.

0-0-0-0-0

The last of the wood was thrown on the fire just before dawn. As the sun rose behind the grey clouds, Aragorn and Gandalf stood looking at the snow covered peak above them discussing their next move.

“It makes little sense to continue up the mountain now, Aragorn. Whether Saruman or the mountain itself is against us matters little, it will snow again if we try and move forward.”

“I know you are right Gandalf, but going back will not prove easy.” Aragorn looked down the trail to where the swirling wind had created drifts of snow that made it four to five feet deep in places.

“We cannot stay here, we will find a way. Boromir!”

“Yes?”

“We have to get off this mountain. Any suggestions?” Gandalf looked at Boromir sharply.

Narrowing his eyes, Boromir scanned the trail they had ascended the day before. “It is only a couple of hundred yards down to that rock. I think Aragorn and I... oh and Thomas could get down that far and see what is on the other side at least.” He glanced back at Gandalf and Aragorn for their approval.

Aragorn smiled and muttered, “Better than any idea I had. Thomas, come along. We need your help.”

The three of them started off, working their way slowly through the heavy snow. Boromir went first, followed by Aragorn with Thomas bringing up the rear. While Boromir and Aragorn pushed the snow to the side, Thomas tried to widen the path, stomping it down and packing it as best he could. He whistled tunelessly under his breath as he worked, enjoying himself despite the bitter cold and his extreme tiredness. Snow always brought him fond memories of his father, who had taken him sledding and ice skating as a young boy.

It was hard work wading and fighting through the snowdrifts and only their desperate need to escape the mountain drove them on. It took them close to an hour to reach the large rock that Boromir had pointed out from above. Around the corner though they stopped and looked up in shock to find a huge drift reaching many feet higher than their heads.

“Valar! What do we do now?” Boromir exclaimed glancing at Aragorn and Thomas.

Aragorn just shook his head and then tilted it slowly trying to see the drift from a different angle. He looked to see if there were another way around the drift but it ended at the edge of the mountain. “Well, I guess we try and climb over it.”

“We can tunnel through it. I’ve made lots of tunnels at home before,” Thomas suggested looking at Aragorn hopefully.

“But we do not know how big this drift is or how far you would have to tunnel. Would it be safe?”

“I suggest we let Thomas try. We have to get off this mountain and our way goes through there.”

Knowing they really had no other choice, Aragorn reluctantly agreed and Thomas squeezed by him and Boromir and started carefully on the tunnel. Working quickly, but cautiously the tunnel was soon well underway. It was only about four feet high and three feet wide and Thomas packed it tightly as he burrowed into the drift. Most of the snow he handed out to Boromir and Aragorn who were watching him, amazed.

“He has done this many times before,” Aragorn whispered.

“He and Rebecca must live in a cold place,” Boromir shivered.

“Only about five months of the year do we have snow, Boromir. And yes I have done this many times, Aragorn.” Thomas looked back at them with a small smile. “The tunnel helps carry your voices,” he laughed when he saw their expressions before turning back to his work.

After digging in about five feet, Thomas stopped suddenly and grabbed his dagger and carefully pushed it into the snow in front of him twisting it slowly before pulling it back out. He grinned widely as he turned back to the men. “We’re there already, I can see the sky.” He finished the tunnel and crawled out the other side, joined swiftly by Boromir and Aragorn. The deep snow drifts ended abruptly a few yards from the end of the tunnel so after resting a moment they packed down a path and turned back.

Returning to the Fellowship they widened the path further. By the time they reached the others all three with panting heavily after their hard work and steep climb. The hobbits and Rebecca and Gimli were still huddled together near what remained of the fire while Legolas and Gandalf were talking quietly nearby. Every head snapped up at the approach of the three men and those seated scrambled to their feet.

Pippin and Merry immediately started questioning the men.

“Are we trapped here, Strider?”

“Is there snow all the way down?”

“Peace...my friends...” Aragorn took a deep breath, “let me catch...my breath.”

“Peace indeed, young hobbits! Aragorn and Boromir will speak when they can.” Gandalf looked down at the hobbits with a frown and a stern gaze.

Unimpressed by his look, Pippin and Merry just stared back and turned to Thomas for information.

“Can you tell us anything, Thomas?” Pippin looked up at his friend pleadingly.

Thomas glanced at Aragorn and then Gandalf before shaking his head at the hobbits. “I... think I’ll let Aragorn tell you... he’s in charge, remember?” he smiled briefly before looking away.

Gazing from Thomas to the hobbits and back again, Aragorn shook his head slightly before turning to Gandalf. “We made a path down about three hundred yards and then we came to a huge snowdrift. Fortunately we had an expert ‘snowman’ with us...” Aragorn clasped Thomas on the shoulder, “and he dug a tunnel through it. It is not too long and from there the snow becomes shallow very quickly.”

“How should we proceed, Aragorn?” Gandalf looked at him questioningly.

“Hmmm... Boromir, Thomas and I will carry Merry, Pippin and Sam down and leave Thomas and Legolas there to protect them. Then Boromir and I will come back for Frodo, Lady Rebecca and...”

“No one is carrying me Aragorn!” Rebecca was adamant.

Aragorn looked at her in surprise, but Thomas knew this was a battle he was not going to win. He agreed with Rebecca, it was only snow for heaven’s sake and there was a path to walk through. She was not a child who needed to have her hand held for every little thing they did. He watched in amusement as Aragorn tried to convince Rebecca that she needed to be carried.

“The snow is too deep for you to walk...”

“There’s a path to walk through, I’ll be fine. I will not be carried. It’s just snow, Aragorn, I’ve lived around it my whole life.” Rebecca’s voice shook slightly in frustration.

Aragorn peered down at Rebecca, but the hood of her coat was covering her face making it impossible to catch her eye. “All right, Lady Rebecca, then walk you shall,” his voice was brisk and matter-of-fact, “and we can do this in one trip. Legolas would you carry Frodo?” Legolas nodded. “Good. Then Gandalf can lead the pony with Gimli riding. Thomas you lead, and then Lady Rebecca, Boromir, Gandalf, Legolas and I will bring up the rear.”

It was slow going as the men were burdened with the weight of the hobbits and had snow pulling at their feet with every step they took. Only Legolas was unaffected. Rebecca had no trouble walking and keeping up with the group though it was eerie at times when the snow was over her head. Finally they reached the tunnel and the hobbits were set down and they scurried through the tunnel on their own. It was a tight squeeze for the pony, but he did just fit.

As they stood on the other side looking back up the mountain, the snowdrift collapsed with a loud whoosh, sending a cloud of snow flying into their eyes.

“Come, we must not linger, we must be off the mountain before nightfall.” Gandalf urged the company to move on.

Rebecca unbuttoned her hood briefly to brush the snow from her face.

“Lady Rebecca! What happened to your eye? It’s all black and blue!” Merry exclaimed, stopping suddenly and staring up at her. His loud voice caused everyone to pause and look back at Rebecca.

“What? Oh, this?” Rebecca reached up and gingerly touched her swollen eye. “Thomas hit me.” She looked over at Thomas mischievously with a smile.

By this time Aragorn was at her side carefully examining her eye and the others were looking on curiously. At her comment they all looked at Thomas with varying degrees of surprise and anger on their faces except for Aragorn who looked at Rebecca in shock.

“Rebecca!” Aragorn said sharply, his stern grey eyes locked onto hers causing her to shift uneasily as she looked up at him.

“Y-yes, Aragorn?”

“We all know that Thomas did not strike you,” his voice matched the look in his eyes. “What truly happened?”

Staring at the ground, she swallowed nervously before replying, “I-I ran into Thomas yesterday... and I hit my eye on the wood he was carrying.” Rebecca’s voice trailed off to a whisper. “I’m sorry Aragorn, I was just joking.”

“It is not me you should apologize to, Lady Rebecca,” Aragorn said sternly.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, Thomas.” Rebecca’s voice trembled slightly as she glanced up at Thomas with watery eyes.

“It’s all right Rebecca, I know you were joking.” Thomas gave Aragorn a puzzled frown and glanced at the others who were standing quietly in small groups ignoring – or pretending to ignore the conversation.

“Gandalf!” Gandalf gazed at Aragorn questioningly. “Lead the others on, I need to check Lady Rebecca’s eye further.”

“Very well.” The company proceeded slowly down the mountain and only Pippin looked back curiously.

“Thomas, you go along too.”

“But...”

“Thomas” Aragorn growled.

“Yes sir.” Thomas took one last glance at Rebecca’s trembling form and started after the others.

As Thomas walked out of earshot, Aragorn looked down at the girl standing before him.

“Rebecca, I need to see your eye,” he said quietly.

Rebecca just shook her head, refusing to look at him.

Sighing, Aragorn reached out and gently lifted her chin until her tear-filled eyes met his. The sternness in his eyes slowly faded as he saw her confusion and uncertainty. “You have no idea why I am angry, do you?” he asked softly.

Rebecca shook her head vehemently, “No... I was just joking. I didn’t mean to...” she stopped as the tears finally spilled and ran down her face.

“Rebecca you know I enjoy your jests and your light heart. But some things are not proper to make light of. Hitting a woman is one of those things. It could damage Thomas’s reputation. Did you see the reaction of the others?” She nodded. “All of them would fight for you to restore your honor. I do not know how it is in your world, but here it is a very serious thing to strike a woman. Do you see now why I was so angry?” Aragorn’s voice was gentle.

Rebecca wiped the tears away with her gloved hand as she nodded again. “Yes sir. I-I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry,” she added miserably.

“I know you are and it is behind us, I am not angry with you anymore. I still need to check your eye and we need to catch up with the others.” Aragorn lifted her head again and looked closely at her injured eye. “It is just swollen and the soreness should be gone by tomorrow.” He gazed searchingly at Rebecca who looked away, not able to meet his eyes for long. Finally he just pulled her into his arms for a quick embrace, grabbed her hand and led her down the mountain after the others.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued….

Elvish Translations:

Mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 9 - Moria

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Words in italics are elvish, elvish translations are at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I do know that English is not Westron which is the common tongue of Middle Earth; however I have chosen to use it in this story. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon; I assume that Aragorn and Legolas have a long standing friendship that goes back before the formation of the Fellowship.

Chapter 9 – Moria

The Fellowship crept down off of Caradhras in defeat. It was late in the afternoon before they found a well hidden area to camp for the night. Aragorn allowed a tiny fire knowing all of them needed something warm to eat.

Sitting around the fire they discussed their next step. Returning to Rivendell was not something that Frodo was willing to consider. Eventually Sauron would come for the ring. Somehow they must find a way to move forward towards Mordor. Boromir suggested they go through the Gap of Rohan and over the White Mountains to Dol Amroth where his uncle, Prince Imrahil, would see them safely to Minas Tirith. But that route took them too close to Isengard and would take far too long.

Gandalf finally suggested they take a dark and secret way under the mountains through the Mines of Moria, the ancient home of the dwarves. Gimli brightened at the prospect of seeing the fabled mines of his people and was eager to go straight away. The others were more cautious. Aragorn was especially hesitant because he had been there before and knew something of the dangers that lurked there and he warned Gandalf that he faced peril if he entered the mines. Boromir and Legolas did not want to go that way either, but would go if the Ring-bearer chose that route. Rebecca and Thomas had no say in the matter and sat quietly listening to the discussion though both agreed with Boromir and Legolas. Finally, the decision was left with Frodo, since ultimately the quest was in his hands, and he chose to go through Moria.

The decision made, the fire was extinguished and they settled down for the night. The wind, which had not ceased blowing all day, continued howling around their small camp.

Leaping to his feet, Legolas cried out, “There are warg howls on the wind! They draw near!” He quickly strung his bow while the men pulled their swords.

Aragorn looked around swiftly, “We need more protection. Quickly, up that knoll. Those rocks will have to do.” Everyone scrambled up the hill. “We need a fire; darkness will not protect us.”

The hobbits, along with Thomas and Rebecca scurried to make a fire in the middle of the ring of rocks at the top of the small hill while the others stood around the ring facing outwards watching for the wargs.

And then they waited.

Thomas paced uneasily around the hobbits, his dagger clasped firmly in his hand as his eyes searched the darkness beyond the rocks. He swore inwardly, wishing he had a sword so that he could be of some use.

Crouching next to the fire, Rebecca took deep breaths to calm her racing heart as she tried to see between the hobbits that surrounded her. Remembering the dagger she carried, she pulled it from its sheath and slowly stood to her feet. The dagger almost fell from her trembling hand, but she tightened her grip and set her jaw, saying to herself… I will do this, I have to.

Gleaming pairs of eyes soon appeared and moved slowly up the hill from all sides. Gandalf yelled out a warning to the wargs, but it was to no avail. The leader leaped towards them and Legolas shot it out of the air and it landed in a crumpled heap at Gimli’s feet.

The pack of wargs was on them then. The wargs were twice as big as ordinary wolves and twice as tough to kill. Legolas’s bow sang loudly in the night as he fired with deadly accuracy.

Boromir stabbed one beast in the throat and then whirled around to sink his blade into the side of another approaching on this right.

Using his staff in tandem with his sword Gandalf would first stun a warg with his staff and then deal swift killing blows with his sword to all that approached him.

“Aragorn, duck!” Thomas’s voice rang out suddenly.

Aragorn dropped to his knees just as a warg sprang at him. The beast tumbled over him and sprawled in a heap just beyond him. In a flash, Aragorn was back on his feet and he quickly thrust his sword into its side and then again into its neck. He then turned back to face the wargs approaching from the other side.

One warg slipped through the rocks unseen and moved towards the six gathered near the fire. Frodo saw it first and his sharp indrawn breath and his hissed “Valar!” caused the other five to turn around. Seeing the creeping warg coming closer, Sam and Merry pushed Rebecca behind them while Thomas did the same to Pippin and Frodo. Realizing it had been seen, the warg darted forward only to be met head on by three very determined defenders. Merry and Sam used their swords to slash at its face and throat while Thomas, with only his dagger, moved to the side trying to stay out of reach of its snapping razor-sharp teeth. The beast was quick and the three were hard pressed, but they kept moving around trying to wear down the warg and always keeping themselves between it and Rebecca, Pippin and Frodo. As it tired, they were able to land more and more blows on the warg. Thomas yelped suddenly, “Damn it!” as the creature turned and raked his left hand with its teeth. Thomas in turn plunged his knife deeply into its shoulder before backing out of range, cursing. That blow set the warg staggering and Merry and Sam dashed forward and quickly slit its throat and it dropped down gasping before dying.

Around them the battle raged on. Legolas had used all of his arrows and was now using his knifes. Gimli and Boromir were part way down the slope standing back to back as they continued to hew down any wargs that came near. Aragorn was surrounded by a pile of carcasses, but he was slowly being forced back into the ring of rocks by two rather large wargs.

Suddenly Gandalf’s voice could be heard chanting and a large tree near the hill top burst into flame. The fire caused the wargs to take flight instantly and soon the only noise to be heard was the crackling from the burning tree.

Slowly those on the perimeter drew back towards the top of the knoll though all of their senses were still focused outwards. After several minutes, Aragorn was convinced that the wargs were gone and he turned to survey the others. His eyes were immediately drawn to the dead warg next to the fire. Looking them over swiftly, he asked,

“Are any of you hurt?”

Thomas held up his still bleeding hand, “It’s just a scratch.”

Aragorn nodded, “I will check it in a minute. Anyone else?” He glanced sharply at Boromir, who shook his head.

“I am fine.”

Aragorn raised his eyebrow questioningly, nodded and then turned back towards the fire where Thomas still stood with Rebecca and the hobbits. “So which of you killed the warg?” Aragorn looked from face to face, pausing longest on Rebecca’s which was deathly pale. She smiled wanly and he was surprised when she answered in a firm voice.

“It took three of them, Aragorn! It was so big and quick. Thomas and Sam and Merry were all so brave. Thomas only had his knife and-and he still attacked that thing.” Rebecca looked at Thomas and smiled. “Merry and Sam pushed me out of the way or I-I would have tried to help...”

“We couldn’t let you do that!” Merry cried.

“You don’t even have a sword,” Sam added.

“Well, Thomas pushed Pippin and me out of the way too,” Frodo snorted. “And I have a sword and I’m a lot older than he is.” He looked up at Thomas disapprovingly.

Thomas ducked his head in embarrassment, “I’m sorry Frodo, I-I just reacted. I forget sometimes how old you all are and that you don’t really need me to protect you. But you are the Ring-Bearer and...” He stopped as Frodo touched his arm and he looked to see Frodo gazing up at him with kind eyes.

“It’s all right lad. I was teasing you. I thank you for protecting me and Pippin.” Frodo gave Thomas a slight bow and then wandered over to talk with Gandalf, dragging Pippin with him and was closely followed by the other hobbits.

Thomas stared after Frodo frowning in puzzlement. He started when Aragorn gently grabbed his arm.

“Sit down, Thomas so I can see to your hand.” Thomas sat down joining Rebecca by the fire. “This does not look too bad. No stitches are needed. I will clean it and wrap it tightly. Are you in much pain, Thomas?” Aragorn looked at him closely, but Thomas shook his head.

“No, it’s not bad.”

“Good. You did well tonight Thomas. And I do not mean just with killing the warg, I also mean about protecting Frodo. Even though he is older than you... and you Rebecca...” Aragorn turned his gaze on her, “he needs to be protected first if possible. You did well tonight too, Rebecca.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” she protested. “And I was so scared!”

Aragorn smiled faintly, “Did you have your dagger drawn?”

“Yes.”

“Were you prepared to fight?”

“Yes.”

“Did you watch and see what was going on around you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you faint or fall down?”

“No.”

“Even when the warg came in here?”

“No.”

“Then you did very well, Lady Rebecca. If a warg had gotten through to you, you would have done your best to fight it.” Aragorn closed his eyes briefly, “Though the thought of you having to do that pains me,” he gave her a gentle smile. “Nevertheless you would have. Being scared just means you are human. Everyone is scared during a battle, at least at first.”

“Even you?”

“Yes, even me. But I have been fighting for many years and so it is easier for me to put aside my fear and concentrate on the battle.”

Rebecca nodded, “Thank you, Aragorn that makes me feel better.”

Aragorn smiled slightly and turned back to Thomas, “Thomas make sure you clean your dagger well, otherwise the blood will cause the blade to rust.” Thomas nodded. “Now we need to try and get some sleep tonight.”

It took over an hour before the fire in the tree burned out and during that time Legolas collected his arrows from the dead wargs and they dragged the beast by the fire out of the camp. Gandalf, Legolas and Aragorn took the watch for the night and the others lay down to try and get some sleep in what was left of the night.

Awake before dawn the Fellowship ate a hurried breakfast before setting out. It was a long trek to Moria and they had to be there by nightfall lest the wargs came back in greater strength. Gandalf and Gimli led the way, Gandalf because he knew the way and Gimli because of his excitement to see the mines. Aragorn and Legolas disappeared for long periods of time during the day as they scouted around on all sides of the company making sure they were safe.

Walking in front of Boromir, Rebecca thought back to her conversation with Aragorn on the mountain. She truly had not meant anything other than to tease Thomas. This world was so strange and she couldn’t imagine anyone fighting for her honor, she wasn’t anyone special. Lost in her thoughts she started when Thomas’s voice sounded next to her.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Thomas! Don’t scare me like that! Sneaking up on me.”

“Sneaking?” Thomas looked at her in surprise. “I’ve been walking next to you for five minutes, Rebecca. But I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Rebecca shook her head, “It’s okay, I was just startled. What did you ask me?”

“I wondered what you were thinking about.”

“Oh. Well... I was...”

Thomas interrupted her, “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s all right; I just don’t know how to put it in words I guess. It’s about...” her voice dropped even further and she looked back to see where Boromir was, but he just nodded and smiled at her, “...yesterday and me teasing you. And then Aragorn getting mad at me...”

“That was... interesting.”

“When Aragorn explained it to me I could understand it and I am sorry Thomas.”

Thomas nodded. “I know, Rebecca. I was annoyed yesterday...” he grinned, “I knew you were joking. But everyone’s reactions shocked me. Boromir talked to me about how they treat women here and honor and stuff like that.”

“That’s the part I don’t get, Thomas! Aragorn said they would fight for my honor! It’s strange...” her voice trailed off. “Thomas, have you ever known any men like these?”

“No, never.”

“Me, either. They are so tough and rugged and dangerous, but you turn around and they are kind and caring and gentle.”

“Not too gentle!” Thomas laughed.

“Well, maybe not to you,” Rebecca smiled. “But they make me feel safe somehow. Aragorn was so very angry with me yesterday, but once we talked his anger disappeared. It wasn’t like that at home,” she whispered.

Thomas took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“My uncle...” Rebecca shook her head. “Anyway it just wasn’t like it is here...” she stared blankly off into the distance.

Thomas continued to hold her hand as they walked along. He didn’t know what to say so he just remained quiet and occasionally squeezed her hand as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. It was the stop for lunch that finally broke Rebecca out of her thoughts. Hearing Gandalf’s voice she looked around, noticing Thomas’s hand holding hers and she smiled up at him.

“Thanks, Thomas. I needed a friend.”

“You’re welcome... are you going to be all right?”

“I think so, at least for now,” she smiled at him again.

“Then let’s eat some lunch, I’m starving!” He smiled, but there was a concerned look in his eyes as he gazed at Rebecca.

0-0-0-0-0

It was late in the afternoon when the Fellowship reached sheer rock walls that towered hundreds of feet above them. They carefully descended steps carved into the rocks and walked along the shore of a dark, dirty lake.

“That water was not here before,” Gandalf commented, “something has blocked the stream.”

Continuing, they eventually reached two large holly trees growing near the wall.

“The entrance is here.” Gandalf glanced up at the setting sun, “But we must wait a bit for the moon to rise.”

“How do we get in?”

“We read the directions on the door, Pippin. Now use this time to unload Bill and get rid of things we will not need. It will be warmer on the other side of the mountain. I am afraid Bill will have to be left here.”

“No! There are wargs here!”

“I am sorry Sam, but he will not enter the mines. He will make his way back to Rivendell safely.” Gandalf spoke gently.

Sam burst into tears, but began unloading the pony. Rebecca put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it softly. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” she whispered before moving away. Sam nodded shortly and continued working.

The moon came out early and lit up the door. Reading the door was easy for Gandalf, but finding the password was not. He tried hundreds of elvish and dwarvish words in different combinations while everyone else sat talking quietly or just stared into the night. Bored by the wait, Boromir sat throwing rocks into the water until Aragorn asked him to stop. Boromir gave him an irritated glare, but complied mostly because the sound of the rocks hitting the water gave off an eerie sound.

After two hours of trying Gandalf threw down his staff with a curse and sat down heavily upon a rock. Most of the group stared at him in surprise; only Aragorn and Legolas remained unmoved, but then they had known Gandalf for many long years.

The silence was suddenly broken by two things – the howl of distant wargs and Gandalf’s voice.

“How simple! I should have seen it right away!”

“Seen what Gandalf?”

“It is a riddle young Peregrin.”

“What’s the answer?”

“Mellon!”

The wall creaked slowly open and they quickly gathered their bags, anxious to get inside before the wargs arrived. Hurrying into the mine no one saw the tentacles that were creeping up behind them until it was too late. One of the octopus-like arms seized Frodo around the ankle and started dragging him toward the water.

“Aragorn!” Frodo screamed in terror as he clutched helplessly at the rocky ground unable to stop the relentless pull of the monster.

Reaching Frodo first was Sam and he hacked at the creature and cut off the tentacle, dragging his master to his feet. As Aragorn and the others arrived they grabbed both hobbits and rushed back into the mine slashing and stabbing any of the wildly waving tentacles that came near. Just as they entered the mine the creature lifted itself from the water and grabbed the doors of the mine slamming them shut. The Fellowship moved farther inside and stood frozen as they heard the trees being ripped from the ground and rocks piled against the entrance.

They stood in utter darkness.

Around him Thomas could hear the deep gasping breaths of the others as he himself tried to recover from his panic. Suddenly a tiny glimmer of light broke the darkness and he looked up to see that Gandalf’s staff was emitting a soft glow from the top. Gazing around he saw that all ten of his companions were safely inside and looked to be unhurt. He sighed softly.

“Is anyone hurt? Frodo?” Aragorn asked quietly.

The only response was a shaking of heads and a quiet murmur of “No’s.”

“Well, then, I suggest we move on. It should take us three or four days to get to the other side.” Gandalf turned to lead the way.

“Did he say three or four days?” Thomas whispered to Legolas.

“Yes, why?”

Thomas shivered slightly, “Umm, oh I just wasn’t sure I heard him right.”

Legolas’s gaze bore right through him, “I do not like being in this dark mine either, Thomas,” he said quietly. “Elves are made for starlight and open spaces, not darkness like this. I will however do this for honor and friendship. Though I am glad I do not walk this path alone,” he smiled as he laid his hand briefly on Thomas’s shoulder before walking off to join Aragorn.

Thomas stared after Legolas in shock, wondering how he could possible know what he was feeling. He followed along after the hobbits as they climbed a set of stairs going farther into Moria, but all of his thoughts were focused on how Legolas knew what he was thinking. He finally decided that if was an elf ability, but it scary to think that Legolas could read him like that.

0-0-0-0-0

They traveled for several hours before stopping for the night. A small room off the main passageway served their purpose quite well except for a large hole in the floor.

Thomas was just settling down to sleep when he heard a ‘plink’ from somewhere behind him. Rolling over he watched as Pippin nervously backed away from the hole and Gandalf jumped to his feet. Gandalf scolded Pippin for throwing a rock into the old well and made Pippin stand watch.

“What happened?” Rebecca asked sleepily, peering up at Thomas from where she was lying next to him on the cold rock floor.

Thomas quickly whispered what Pippin had done. Shaking his head he added, “Gandalf and Aragorn are really worried about this, Rebecca. I mean this whole mine thing and Pippin just made it worse. Even Legolas doesn’t like being here.”

“I know. Only Gimli seems to be glad to be here. What are they afraid of?” Her voice was so quiet Thomas barely heard her and he leaned in closer as she added, “It makes me nervous Thomas to see them scared.”

“Me too. They are the bravest men I’ve ever met.” Rebecca looked up startled when she heard his voice so close to her ear. Seeing her nervous expression, Thomas moved back slightly with a small grin, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh, that’s all right, Thomas. Well, we should probably get some sleep, huh?”

“Uh, huh, we’ll just have to face whatever comes our way. Good-night, Rebecca.”

“Night, Thomas.”

0-0-0-0-0

Morning dawned bright and clear... Thomas blinked as Boromir nudged him awake, and he realized he had only been dreaming about the dawn and he was still surrounded by darkness. He shuddered slightly as he looked around. Pulling himself up, Thomas collected the bags he had to carry now that they no longer had the pony and he stood yawning next to Boromir and the hobbits trying to focus on them instead of the surrounding darkness.

“Wake up, Thomas.”

“I’m awake, Boromir. What are we waiting for?”

“Gandalf is trying to decide which door to take.”

“Oh, I thought he had been here before.”

Boromir shrugged. “Good morning, Lady Rebecca.”

“What’s good about it? How do you even know its morning?” Rebecca growled.

“Lady Rebecca, I am beginning to believe that you do not like morning.”

Irritated by the amusement in his voice, Rebecca responded sourly, “No Boromir, what I don’t like is sleeping on hard rock, being prodded awake by irritating men after a few hours of sleep, eating dried meat and bread again, and having to walk through a dark horrible mine. Otherwise I just love mornings!”

Boromir, Thomas and the hobbits just stared at her for a moment and then looked away to hide the smiles and grins that were appearing on their faces.

Clearing his throat, Boromir was saved from responding by Gandalf deciding which passageway to take. Instead he leaned over and murmured in Thomas’s ear, “We were fortunate, there is nothing I could have said that she would not have taken the wrong way.” Thomas nodded and gave Boromir a small grin.

Gandalf led them through the door he had selected which started out as a wide sloping path and soon turned into a broad stairway. The stairs here were in much better condition than those they had climbed closer to the entrance, these were almost entirely intact. In a departure from their usual pattern, Aragorn brought up the rear while Boromir and Legolas walked in the middle of the group. Aragorn wanted to space the warriors to increase their ability to protect the others if they were attacked.

After a time the stairs they were on turned back into a smooth wide roadway that curved gently upwards in long sweeping strokes. For hour after hour they walked on this road taking only a break to eat lunch.

Sitting near Rebecca eating lunch, Thomas was surprised when Legolas sank gracefully down next to him. “Lady Rebecca, Thomas, how are you doing in this dark place?” He glanced at Rebecca, but then fixed his intense blue eyes on Thomas.

Sighing, Rebecca answered first, “Well, now that I’m awake I’m fine.” She paused and looked at him with narrowed eyes, “You heard me this morning didn’t you?”

Legolas laughed lightly, “Of course, Lady Rebecca... with my hearing I could not help it.”

Rebecca sighed again. “I suppose I owe Boromir an apology,” she frowned thoughtfully. “I may as well do it now, excuse me.” She got to her feet and walked over to where Boromir was sitting with the hobbits.

Legolas turned his gaze back to Thomas who was staring down blankly at his hands.

“And you, Thomas, how do you fare?”

Thomas shifted uncomfortably before looking up to meet Legolas’s steady gaze. “I’m doing all right, Legolas. I-I try not to think about it and to focus on Gandalf’s light. It helps what you said yesterday – to think about friends and stuff.”

Legolas nodded slightly, “Good, remember you can talk to me if you need to mellon nín... it means ‘my friend’ in my language,” he explained.

“I will, Legolas, thanks.” Deciding a change of subject was in order he asked, “Do you think once we leave here you might have time to teach me archery? My shoulder is healed.”

“If we have time I will. Though you are doing quite well with a sword, Thomas and if you only have time to practice one you should work on that.”

“All right, but at home I really enjoyed archery so I thought it might be fun to try it here.”

Legolas grasped his shoulder firmly, “I will teach you how to use a bow, Thomas, but always remember it is a weapon. A skill to be used for killing, be it animals for food or enemies – orcs, wargs or men.” Legolas stared hard at Thomas.

“Of course, Legolas. I didn’t really forget that... I just sorta thought I might be good at it because I’d done it before not like the sword.” Thomas swallowed. “Though I’m not sure I’ll ever totally get used to it here.”

“In time, Thomas, you will be able to accept your life here, even if it is so different from your past one. But you have been here a very short time and you have been caught up in things that most mortals in middle earth do not have to deal with. If Frodo succeeds it will not be like this anymore. There will be peace and rest and a home for you.” Legolas spoke softly and kindly as he smiled reassuringly at Thomas.

Nodding, Thomas tried to smile back but it was a rather pathetic attempt. He wanted to believe Legolas but he wasn’t sure that he could. Even if Frodo succeeded middle earth was so different than home he wasn’t sure that adjusting would be that easy.

As if sensing his doubt, Legolas spoke again, “Thomas, the choice will be yours. To accept your life here or not.” Legolas shrugged gracefully as he studied Thomas. “None know why the Valar have sent you and Rebecca, we may never know. But I do know that if you do not come to accept your life here, you will live in misery – longing for what you cannot have. Now, come, it is time to move on again.” Legolas stood and pulled Thomas up with him before smiling faintly and walking off.

Thomas stared after Legolas for a moment then shook himself, gathered his things and followed him, pondering the things they had discussed.

0-0-0-0-0

The afternoon stretched on as the continued marching along their chosen path. There was no sound except that which was created from their passing and they encountered no intersections to take them off in a different direction. So they went ever deeper and higher into Moria as the day lengthened into evening. At last the walls around them seemed to disappear and they felt the movement of air. Stopping abruptly the Fellowship waited as Gandalf gave off a little more light and all could see that they were in a gigantic room.

“It is well, I know where we are,” Gandalf sounded relieved. “We have come a little higher than we need to be, but once we cross this hall it is only five levels down to the eastern gate. Let us rest here and in the morning we might actually see some light. If I remember right, this hall has deep shafts down from the outside.”

Moving to a corner of the room, the Fellowship ate another cold supper while conversing quietly before settling into their bedrolls for the night.

Lying there, Rebecca listened to the soft snores of the sleeping ‘men’ and the whispered conversation between Gandalf and Frodo. She had gotten so used to the nightly sounds of animals it was hard to sleep and for some reason she felt restless. Maybe it’s just this dark dreary place, or something bad is going to happen, she thought as chills suddenly ran up and down her spine, making her shiver. Turning on her side Rebecca wrapped the blanket more tightly around her though she wasn’t really cold. It just made her feel safer.

Trying to think of something else, Rebecca eavesdropped on Gandalf’s and Frodo’s conversation. It wasn’t particularly interesting, but she was surprised at how gentle and kind Gandalf was with Frodo. She wondered if maybe she had been wrong about the wizard since none of the hobbits were scared of him. Rolling onto her back, Rebecca sighed softly as she stared up towards the high ceiling, wishing she had a good book to read… and a light to read it with. She grew increasingly frustrated as she wondered why she couldn’t sleep when she was so tired. She heard Frodo tell Gandalf good-night and then rustling noises that told her he must have lain down.

The night dragged on. Hearing low voices Rebecca turned her head and saw Aragorn relieve Gandalf on watch. She smiled as he immediately pulled out his pipe, filled, and lit it, maybe the smell of it will relax me enough so I can sleep, she thought with desperation. Sighing she rolled back over and pulled the blanket over her head, hoping that might help. But she couldn’t breathe very well so she jerked the blanket back off her face.

Frustrated, Rebecca sat up and buried her head in her hands. Maybe a drink of water is what I need, she thought. Looking around she spied a waterskin next to the bags of food. Quietly, so as not to wake anyone, Rebecca crawled over to the water and took a drink. Once again sighing she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, thinking that maybe she could sleep sitting up.

“Rebecca.” Aragorn’s voice called softly from where he sat watching her.

Startled, Rebecca jumped, and looked wildly around her as she had forgotten Aragorn was even there.

Aragorn walked over and crouched down beside her, “Are you all right? Does your wrist hurt? Why are you awake now?” His eyes and voice were full of concern as he reached out and briefly touched her forehead checking for fever as he wondered if she were sick.

“I’m all right, Aragorn. I just can’t sleep for some reason. I’ve been tossing and turning all night... I thought a drink might help which is why I got up.” She shrugged, “But I don’t know if it will help or not.”

“Are you not tired?”

“Totally and completely exhausted, Aragorn. Which is why this is so frustrating. I know I need to relax because the more I think about it the worse it gets.” She smiled faintly, “I was even hoping the smell of your pipe would relax me. Maybe you should tell me a bedtime story. My mother told me those when I was little and it always put me to sleep!” she laughed quietly.

Aragorn laughed along with her, “I thought we had settled this mother thing Rebecca.” He laughed again as Rebecca blushed in embarrassment. “In any case, I do not know any of what you would call a bedtime story. However, I am willing to tell you a story and maybe that will relax you enough to sleep.”

“At this point I’m willing to try anything, but you must promise that if I do fall asleep in the middle of the story you will finish it sometime!” Rebecca grinned as she crawled back into her blanket.

Aragorn smiled, “Of course. Now this is the very old and tragic tale of Lúthien, the elf maiden who gave her love to Beren, a mortal man...”

Rebecca fell asleep with the sound of Aragorn’s voice in her ears and the knowledge that elves and humans did not normally marry for if they did the elf was doomed to die.

0-0-0-0-0

Faint sunlight did dimly light the room around them as they awoke. Eager to be off, breakfast was eaten standing and then they quickly followed Gandalf toward the eastern side of the hall. As they approached the far side two doorways appeared and, unsure, Gandalf chose the one to the north.

Near the doorway was a second door that led to what was once a small guardroom. As they passed it, they looked in and saw a small tomb. Crying out in horror Gimli lurched inside with the others following closely behind. The room had a second door leading down stairs to the east and numerous broken shelves and scattered debris from past battles.

While Gimli and Gandalf were reading the inscription on the tomb and looking through a journal of the last days of Balin, Aragorn and Boromir pulled Thomas aside and were looking through the broken and discarded weapons on the floor.

“We might be able to find you something here, Thomas.” Aragorn poked carefully through a pile of broken swords and orc scimitars with his boot.

“I’ve never used a curved blade like that!” Thomas protested.

“It will be better than the dagger you now carry and is used much the same as our swords.”

Thomas nodded at Boromir, “At least I can keep them farther away from me,” he smiled grimly.

“Here!” Aragorn reached down and carefully pulled out an intact scimitar from the pile. “Unfortunately there are no sheaths here... you will just have to carry it openly for now. Be careful, Thomas. I know you are not used to this. I am going to sharpen it a bit.” Aragorn took out his whetstone, spit on it and started to sharpen the blade.

As Aragorn handed the sword to Thomas a strange noise reached their ears. Distantly they could hear the sounds of drums or hammers striking, but closer were the distinct sounds of booted feet rapidly approaching the guardroom from across the great hall.

“Quick, close the door!” Aragorn yelled.

They pulled their swords as the door slammed shut and Frodo’s and Gandalf’s swords glowed bright blue in the dim light.

“Orcs!” Legolas yelled seeing the shimmering swords.

Glancing around Aragorn checked on the others noting that the hobbits were clustered together between and a little behind Gandalf and Boromir. Thomas was next to Boromir and Gimli was standing on top of the tomb. Aragorn finally saw Rebecca standing behind Boromir with her dagger drawn, grim determination on her pale face that matched the look on Thomas’s. Catching her eye and then Thomas’s briefly, he nodded slightly and turned back to the door once again focused on the upcoming battle.

Loud guttural speech and the shaking of the door as the orcs crashed into it announced the arrival of the foul creatures. Parts of the wooden door splintered, but it held as the orcs continued throwing their bodies against it. The Fellowship knew it wouldn’t hold for long. With a resounding crash the door fell to the ground taking four or five orcs tumbling down on top of it. Another dozen orcs scrambled over the door and fallen orcs and were met by the arrows of Legolas.

It was a fierce, hard-fought battle. The orcs rushed straight forward relying on brute strength to try and overwhelm their opponents. But Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli were peerless warriors who were not intimidated by such tactics and they moved forward swiftly to engage the orcs, trying to keep them away from the hobbits and Rebecca.

As orcs slipped past the first line of defenders, Thomas swallowed hard, gripped his sword tightly and rushed forward with the hobbits to fight the creatures. His mind went blank as he stared at the sneering ugly man-shaped orc swinging a sword at him. At the last possible moment he raised his sword to block the blow that would have taken off his head and everything snapped back into focus. Thomas used his sword to push the orc’s blade away and then tried to thrust his back at the orc’s heart, but the creature was quick and he blocked it.

After that it was a blur to Thomas of swinging and blocking as he tried to remember all that Aragorn and Boromir had taught him. The orc got through for one glancing slice across his left forearm, but at that same moment, Thomas was able to drive his sword into the creature’s sword arm which caused it to drop the blade. Thomas quickly pulled out his sword and slit the orcs throat and it fell gurgling to the ground in a heap.

Sensing something behind him, Thomas ducked down and panicked as a sword narrowly missed his head. He tried to spin around, but got tangled in the body of the orc he had just killed. Looking up he saw a leering orc reaching down for him with one hand while the sword in its other hand was poised to strike. Suddenly the orc let out a yelp of pain and looked behind him. Taking full advantage of its loss of concentration, Thomas scrambled to his feet and stabbed the beast in the side piercing its heart. As it fell to the ground, Thomas saw Rebecca standing there holding her dagger which was dripping with black orc blood. She was staring down at the orc and then looked up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Glancing around and seeing no more living orcs, Thomas leaped over the orc bodies between them.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” he said fervently, hugging her. “You saved my life.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, Rebecca stared down at the dagger. “It felt so strange to... jab it into a living thing.” She shuddered as she looked up at Thomas. “Thomas! You’re bleeding! Is it bad?”

“No, it’s not bad,” Thomas briefly showed her the cut. “Though I’m sure Aragorn will want me to wear bandages for days,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Rebecca smiled and looked around. “Frodo! What happened to Frodo?”

They rushed over to find Aragorn picking up the limp, seemingly dead body of Frodo.

“What happened?”

“A spear.” Aragorn answered shortly as he took in Thomas’s and Rebecca’s appearance. “Rebecca, clean your dagger. Thomas, I will tend yours and Sam’s wounds later. Now come, we must leave.”

They could still hear the distant drums and somewhere close by more orcs were approaching. As they rushed to the eastern door, Boromir came alongside Rebecca, grasping her arm briefly to let her know he was there. Rebecca cast him a grateful look and kept sprinting toward the door.

As they closed the door behind them and headed down the stairs, orcs and something else entered the guardroom. Gandalf hastened them down the stairs while he worked to put a spell on the door.

At the bottom of the first set of stairs, Frodo stirred in Aragorn’s arms. “Put me down, I can walk!”

“I thought you were dead!”

“Well, I’m not, so put me down.”

Aragorn frowned for a moment and then gently set Frodo on his feet making sure he was in fact steady and able to walk. Satisfied, Aragorn led them on down the stairs. When Gandalf caught up he was strangely tired and told Aragorn that some dark evil presence on the other side of the door had almost broken his spell.

Down, down, down the stairs led them until finally they came to another great hall. Peering around the corner with Gandalf, Aragorn could see, about a hundred yards away, the narrow bridge that would lead them out of Moria. On the far side of the room were huge streams of fire that blocked off anyone on that end from reaching the bridge. Hundreds of orcs were clustered on that end of the room. The Fellowship should be able to reach the bridge in relative safety except for the possibility of arrows.

Glancing at Gandalf, Aragorn nodded and cautiously led the group out into the room. They hadn’t gone more than twenty paces when the orcs spotted them and started howling. At that point, since all hope of secrecy was gone, Aragorn started running towards the bridge. He glanced at the orcs to see them laying something across the fire and he quickened his pace though he was mindful of the hobbit’s short legs.

Farther back, running with the hobbits and Boromir, Rebecca looked between the bridge and the orcs praying they would reach the bridge in time. She desperately wanted to get out of this mine and away from these creatures and this darkness. Boromir grabbed her arm to hold her up as she almost tripped over Merry who had come to a sudden stop in front of her.

Looking to see what had caused everyone to stop, Rebecca was horrified to see a huge being that seemed to be made of fire appear among the orcs. She heard Legolas whisper “A balrog” in a voice that actually sounded frightened and then she took off running again as Gandalf yelled at them to make for the bridge for this foe was beyond any of them. She shook her head, trying to make sense of that statement, wondering if Gandalf could somehow deal with it.

Rebecca shuddered and tried not to look down when they reached the bridge, it was so narrow and had no handrails, and she tried not to panic. Taking a deep breath, she quickly followed the hobbits across, keeping her eyes fixed on Merry and trying to ignore the incredible chasm beneath her, the screaming orcs, the occasional arrow and the balrog. Her heart were racing in fear as she ran and all that kept crossing her mind was, what am I doing here and I wish these ‘Valar’ would tell me why I’m here.

Rebecca reached the other side and Legolas pulled her out of arrow range joining the hobbits and Gimli standing behind him. Thomas quickly joined them; grabbing Rebecca’s hand and they watched breathlessly as Gandalf stood in the middle of the bridge and confronted the balrog. Aragorn and Boromir stood on the edge of the bridge ready to rush out and help Gandalf if they were needed. Using his sword and staff, Gandalf tried to drive the demon back and keep him off the bridge. Finally though the balrog stepped onto the bridge and it collapsed under him and the fiery monster fell into the chasm. Exhausted, Gandalf turned to join Aragorn and Boromir, but as he did so, the balrog’s whip snaked up, wrapped around his ankle and jerked Gandalf over the edge of the bridge. Gandalf just barely had time to yell to the Fellowship to flee.

And then he fell.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Elvish translations:

Mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 10 - Fleeing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Notes: Because of time constraints and my limited elvish language skills (I can read some but writing it correctly is a whole different thing!) I have decided to show conversations that take place in 'Elvish' by placing them in italics. That way I can show private conversations between any of the characters, for example in this chapter between, Aragorn and Haldir. I will still have a few elvish words sprinkled in here and there throughout the story and I will continue to translate those at the end of the chapter. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon, Aragorn sees Celeborn and Galadriel as his grandparents and they see him as their grandson. Not only is he betrothed to their granddaughter but he was raised in Rivendell by their son-in-law.

Chapter 10 – Fleeing

Absolutely stunned the Fellowship stood staring at the broken bridge where Gandalf had stood a moment before, unable to believe that he had fallen. It was Boromir who first shook himself out of his daze and grabbed Aragorn's arm pulling him towards the others who were gathered around Legolas.

"We must leave!"

The urgency in his voice captured the attention of Aragorn and Thomas who looked at him blankly before nodding. Shaking the others they ran up the steps, following Boromir and pushing the hobbits and Rebecca in front of them. Aragorn looked back to see Legolas who had remained, heedless of the arrows that were beginning to fall around him. He rushed back to his friend and firmly grasped his arm.

"Come, mellon nín, we cannot linger."

Legolas turned tear-filled eyes on Aragorn and whispered, "How can this be Aragorn? How can Gandalf die?"

"I know not, mellon, I know not," Aragorn's eyes matched the grief in Legolas's. "But we must go on. His death must not be in vain."

Nodding abruptly, Legolas took a deep breath as his eyes hardened slightly, "Then let us go."

They sprinted after the others and soon caught up as they neared the exit of Moria. Legolas stayed in the rear of the group while Aragorn joined Boromir at the front. Slowing down as they came to the door, Aragorn saw orcs guarding it. Rushing forward with Boromir and Gimli the orcs were soon laying dead, scattered across the eastern entrance to the mines.

The Fellowship left Moria blinking in the bright mid-morning sunshine. Looking around Aragorn took in the hobbits and Rebecca's tear-stained faces and sighed inwardly. He wanted to stop and let them rest, but he knew there was no time; they had to reach a place of safety first. Hardening his heart to their grief... and his own, he called out, "We must keep moving and get as far away from Moria by nightfall as possible."

Groaning, they all followed along behind Aragorn as he headed away from the mountains. The hobbits clustered together seeking comfort from one another as they did their best to keep up with the rapid pace Aragorn set. With a sharp glance at Aragorn, Legolas sprinted off into the woods ahead.

Thomas's face was white with shock as he followed closely behind Aragorn. He had been somewhat prepared for orcs, but not for that monster, or to see Gandalf fall. Shuddering he wondered what other monsters lurked in middle earth. He glanced around nervously as if one might pop out from behind a tree any minute. He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on the scimitar he still carried.

Distraught over all that had happened, Rebecca walked alongside Boromir, hot tears streaming down her face. It wasn't just Gandalf dying, though that had been truly and utterly horrifying. But just seeing the balrog itself was terrifying. And, the battle with the orcs and actually helping to kill something, evil or not. Rebecca grimaced, remembering the feel of her dagger slicing into the orc. Unconsciously edging closer to Boromir she accidentally brushed up against him.

Boromir jumped slightly at the contact and looked down at her with surprise on his face. "Lady Rebecca..." he paused, "I share your grief," he finally stated.

Rebecca glanced up at him for a moment with her frightened brown eyes before looking away again. "I know, Boromir," she whispered, "it was horrible to watch... but it's not just that. Fighting the orcs..." she shuddered. "And-and I just want to go home," she finished miserably.

Boromir replied softly, "I know you do and I am sorry you cannot. As for Gandalf, I do not know how to comfort you. I shall miss his wisdom and guidance. But I have seen much death in my life and it no longer surprises me much. I forget it is not the same in your world." Rebecca nodded as he continued, "You are strong, my Lady and when you have rested things will not appear so bleak."

Staring at her feet as Boromir spoke; Rebecca was comforted more by the kindness in his voice than by what he said and soon her tears ceased flowing.

0-0-0-0-0

Several hours after leaving Moria, Aragorn noticed that Frodo and Sam were lagging behind the rest of the Fellowship. Remembering they and Thomas had all been injured and their wounds had not been tended, he cursed himself inwardly, realizing he had let his grief overwhelm his duty.

"Frodo! Sam! Thomas! I have forgotten your injuries. Forgive me," Aragorn called as he hastened back. "The rest of you take a short break while I tend to them." Aragorn glanced at the others, stopping when his gaze fell on Rebecca. He started to say something, but stopped when Boromir frowned and shook his head. Aragorn nodded and turned back to his three patients.

Aragorn gently parted Sam's hair where an orc's blade had slashed into his head above his left ear. The wound was now caked with dried blood and Aragorn took a cloth, dampened it with water from his waterskin and gently sponged it clean. Sam hissed in pain as the blood was removed.

"I am sorry, Sam. I will soon be done, though I will need to put in a few stitches."

Sam just grunted and stared at the ground frowning. Aragorn quickly put in the stitches and wrapped bandages around his head. Finished, Aragorn turned to Thomas and examined his arm.

"You seem to have the blessing of the Valar, Thomas. This was close to a major vein, but did not hit it."

"I know... it didn't bleed for too long."

"You survived your first battle with orcs," Aragorn commented as he continued to clean and bind the wound.

"Only because of Rebecca."

"Oh?" Aragorn looked up sharply.

"She stabbed an orc from behind that had me down. It gave me time to get up and kill it." Thomas glanced over to where Rebecca was sitting next to Boromir with her head in her hands.

Aragorn followed his gaze.

"She saved my life, Aragorn."

"It does not surprise me, Thomas. She has a lot of courage, though she does not see it in herself." He paused frowning, "But she must be exhausted, she barely slept last night and then all of this..." Aragorn shook his head as he finished tying off the bandage. There was nothing he could do now for Rebecca. They had to keep moving. He patted Thomas on the shoulder as he stood and moved over to Frodo.

"Now Frodo I need to check on you."

"I'm fine Aragorn."

"No, you are not." Aragorn stared down at the hobbit. "You had a heavy spear thrust into your side and you are not keeping up with us. Now I insist that you take off your tunic and let me examine you Frodo!" Aragorn's grief, exhaustion and frustration were all evident in his voice as he spoke and everyone looked up at him in surprise.

Reluctantly, Frodo began unbuttoning his tunic until Aragorn could see something bright and glimmering underneath.

"What are you wearing?" Aragorn poked the metal and then started laughing quietly. "Now I understand. This is mithril! Did Bilbo give you this?"

Frodo nodded as everyone crowded around to see; gasping in awe at the sight of the beautiful mail shirt. Carefully, Aragorn peeled if off of Frodo revealing deep heavy bruising around his right side. Aragorn lightly pressed his fingers against the hobbit's ribs which made Frodo wince in pain.

"I do not think any are broken, Frodo, but I will wrap them and make you something for the pain. And then you must put this back on. I am much relieved knowing you have it."

Frodo smiled faintly up at him, "I was glad I had it on today. But I can handle the pain, Aragorn. Let's keep moving... I would rather not run into any more orcs this day."

Aragorn looked at him doubtfully before glancing up at the sun. "Indeed we should move on, we have many miles yet until we reach Lorien." Finally out of bandages, Aragorn ripped off several strips from his tunic, stopping Frodo's protests before he could even start. "I will be fine, Frodo. Now, put this back on and we can leave." He stood and helped Frodo gingerly to his feet before leaving to discuss their route with Legolas.

As soon as Frodo was dressed they pressed on towards Lothlórien. Rebecca continued walking close to Boromir though she had looked for Thomas. But he was shadowing Aragorn and she had no energy to speed up and walk with him. The short break had given her time to gather herself and while she was no longer crying her mind was swirling as she walked along.

Rebecca had not thought that things could get worse than just being here and now she realized how foolish that was. And she had thought that wolves and wargs were bad, she grimaced. She knew about orcs and Sauron and death... but to see it happen to someone she knew was something that she had not been able to prepare for ahead of time. What if she had to watch Aragorn, or Boromir, or Thomas, or Legolas, or any of them die? Rebecca swallowed hard as she wondered what would happen to her if that happened. She guessed that she would probably be dead then too, so it probably wouldn’t matter. Rebecca decided that all of this was just too scary and she didn't think she could do this anymore. But then she realized she had so choice and she snorted inwardly. But she also suddenly realized that she had stabbed that orc even though she was scared to death and that she could did it again if she had too. Rebecca shook her head and sighed softly in frustration. She knew she really needed to stop having this same conversation in her head and have more confidence in herself, but it was so hard. Rebecca could even sense, from things they had said, that Aragorn and Boromir had more confidence in her than she had in herself, though she wondered if they were just being kind. Maybe I should just think about puppies or kitties or something warm and fuzzy like that to get my mind off of all of this stuff, Rebecca laughed quietly.

"Lady Rebecca?"

Rebecca looked up to see Pippin's, Merry's, and Boromir's concerned eyes on her.

"Yes-yes, Merry?"

"Are you alright? You don't look well and then you laughed and I was worried…" Merry’s voice trailed off .

Rebecca blushed in embarrassment. "I'm all right. I've just been thinking... about the day..." she paused to wipe away the tears that started trickling down her face. "And then I laughed... because I was trying to think about something... nice to make the pain go away... but it doesn't help." Rebecca voice dropped to a whisper and she swallowed hard as she looked away from the steady gaze of the hobbits and Boromir.

"Oh. Well, you should walk with Merry and me then. We're nice. We can't take the pain away, but maybe you can forget about it for a little while."

Rebecca looked at Pippin in surprise as he held his hand out to her. His eyes held the same grief as Merry's and that she had seen in the others and that she was sure was mirrored in her own and yet he was willing to reach out to her. Though maybe it works both ways, maybe I can take some of his grief too, she thought. With a grateful smile, Rebecca reached out and clasped his hand. "Thanks Pippin, I'd like that."

Nodding, Pippin pulled her between him and Merry and started chattering quietly about things in the Shire. Rebecca listened to his stories in relief and occasionally told him and Merry a story of her home.

0-0-0-0-0

Daylight was fading when they finally approached the woods of Lothlórien. Aragorn slowed to a stop, his mind suddenly caught up in memories of other, happier, times. The others gathered around and looked at him inquisitively.

"What is this place, Aragorn?" Rebecca whispered. "It feels so... I don't know the words to describe it. Peaceful... and the air is different..." her voice trailed off.

Around her the hobbits and Thomas nodded in agreement as they stared curiously into the forest.

"This, Lady Rebecca, is Lothlórien, home of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, two of the wisest and most ancient elves in Middle Earth. What you feel is their presence and the presence of the elves. Anywhere that elves live for any length of time there is a difference in the surrounding areas that is hard to describe."

"Aragorn, is it safe here? Even in Gondor we hear stories of these woods."

"We will be quite safe, Boromir. Only that which is evil or brings evil needs to fear crossing these borders. Besides," Aragorn smiled faintly, "I am well known here."

"What about dwarves? We also hear stories of this 'lady'..." Gimli practically spat out the word, "and I do not want to risk my life here among these elves."

Legolas glared down at the smaller being and opened his mouth to reply, but then just shook his head and stared off into the distance.

"Gimli, all I can say is that you will be under my protection. These elves are different than the elves of Rivendell and Mirkwood. They have fewer dealings with other peoples, but they are honorable, and we really have no other choice."

Looking around at the others, Gimli nodded abruptly, "Then let us move on and take our chances."

The Fellowship moved deeper into the woods seeking shelter for the night. They crossed the Nimrodel, a cold swift-moving river that brought refreshment to their tired bodies as they stopped to wash and clean off the last of the black orc blood that stained their hands and arms. Aragorn led them on until finally calling a halt near a dense stand of trees. Legolas decided to sleep in a tree, but as he leapt up to grab a branch, a stern voice called out, Daro! Shocked, Legolas dropped back down. Ghostlike, elves appeared silently from the trees surrounding them, their bows nocked, but pointed at the ground. From the tree above, one elf jumped down landing lightly on his feet in front of Aragorn.

Rebecca stared around her in awe. Elves! Lots of elves. Most of them had varying shades of blonde hair like Legolas, but some seemed to have silver hair. They appeared stern and cold as they watched the Fellowship unblinkingly. She edged closer to Aragorn nervously which drew the attention of the elf who was talking quietly with him.

"You are traveling with a maiden, Aragorn?"

"Yes, it is a long and strange story, Haldir. We met Rebecca and Thomas," Aragorn nodded in Thomas's direction, "about a week after leaving Imladris. They were injured and we had no choice but to bring them with us." Aragorn shrugged slightly.

The strange elf swiftly looked Rebecca up and down with his piercing icy blue eyes, causing her to blush with embarrassment and she slid even further behind Aragorn staring at the ground. She knew they were talking about her and Thomas because she had heard Aragorn say her name and she wondered what they were saying. She knew it was probably not about how wonderful she looked as she thought about her unwashed hair and body and her filthy clothes.

"I believe I have embarrassed the fair maiden Aragorn," a spark of amusement in his eyes meant only for Aragorn to see.

"I am not surprised. She is young, but surprisingly resilient." Aragorn turned and looked down at Rebecca, "Come, Lady Rebecca and meet my friend, Haldir." Aragorn put his hand gently on her shoulder and steered her around in front of him. Rebecca took a deep breath and looked up at the tall blonde elf before her.

"Well met, Lady Rebecca. I am Haldir, Captain of the Lothlórien Guard." He gave Rebecca a deep bow as he regarded her gravely.

Rebecca smiled at him nervously, "Umm, well met Captain Haldir. It's-it's very nice to meet you." She bowed back though not as deeply as she wasn't sure if it was something women were even supposed to do or just men.

Haldir's eyes sparkled with amusement as he turned back to Aragorn, "And the rest of your company?"

Aragorn moved about the Fellowship as he introduced them to Haldir. "This is Frodo...Sam...Merry...Pippin...," each hobbit gave Haldir a bow which was returned in kind. Aragorn then introduced Boromir and Thomas.

Thomas noticed that Haldir looked him over carefully and he wondered what Aragorn had said about him. He stared curiously at this new elf as Haldir moved past him. He was a little taller than Legolas, which seemed impossible. The bow he and the other elves carried were also longer and more elaborate that Legolas's. Their grey clothing allowed them to blend in with the silver grey tree trunks of the woods that were all around them and so it was not surprising that they were able to surround the Fellowship so easily.

Raised voices pulled Thomas from his thoughts and he looked up to see Haldir sneering down at Gimli. He hadn't heard what had been said, but it must have been bad because Aragorn had his hand on Gimli's shoulder holding him back. Thomas had never understood what went on between Legolas and Gimli, who were always saying nasty little things to each other, though Aragorn usually made them stop. But now it appeared that it was something between this new elf and Gimli too. Thomas exchanged confused looks with Rebecca and shrugged; she shook her head slightly in annoyance and whispered, "Why do they treat him like that?"

"I don't know. I thought it was just Legolas and Gimli who didn't get along, maybe all elves and dwarves are like that."

"Must be, I wonder why. Elves are wonderful!" Thomas frowned slightly at Rebecca's whispered enthusiasm, "And Gimli is... nice enough too."

"We'll just have to add it to our ever growing list of things to learn," Thomas grinned at Rebecca who smiled back.

Introductions over, most of the Lothlórien elves slipped off into the trees as quietly as they had appeared until only Haldir and two others remained.

"These are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin." The elves bowed before disappearing rapidly up nearby trees. "They do not speak much of the Common Tongue. The hobbits and Lady Rebecca may stay on the talan with me and my brothers while the rest of you may stay on that one," he pointed to where a silver rope was being let down from a nearby tree. "Aragorn, I am holding you personally responsible for the dwarf." Aragorn nodded.

Rebecca looked at Haldir in horror. She did not want to stay on a 'talan', whatever it was, with him and his brothers. The hobbits would be there, but they couldn't protect her from these elves if they tried to hurt her. Rebecca looked over at Aragorn beseechingly, "Aragorn," she whispered fearfully. Hearing her choked voice he looked over from where he was talking with Haldir, taking one look at her; he walked over, pulling her off to the side.

"Rebecca, what is wrong?" he asked softly.

"I-I don't want to sleep somewhere different from you... and everyone Aragorn. I don't know these elves." A stray tear trickled down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away.

"Look at me Rebecca..." Aragorn paused until she did so, "Do you trust me?" Rebecca nodded, confused by the question. "Then you know that I would not let you sleep or be someplace that is not safe for you. I have known Haldir for most of my life and I trust him with my life... and yours. He is an honorable elf. As is every elf I have ever met, Rebecca. Elves are different than humans, but they are kind and noble." Aragorn gazed at her searchingly taking in her utter exhaustion and fear-filled eyes.

"Rebecca, this has been an exhausting day. Full of horrible things for all of us." Aragorn's voice dropped off to a low whisper and Rebecca saw that his grief-stricken eyes had filled with tears. Impulsively she reached out and grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly in an attempt to comfort him, remembering for the first time, how close he and Gandalf had been.

"I'm sorry, Aragorn... I forgot he was your close friend. I was just so scared during the whole thing and..."

"It is all right, Rebecca," Aragorn's voice was under control again though she could hear the undercurrent of grief in it still. "You do not need to explain." He took a deep breath. "In any case, it has been a long day and you need to sleep. Will you be all right now with Haldir and the hobbits?"

"I'll be fine."

"Good." Aragorn looked at her one more time before hugging her closely, "And thank you."

Returning to the others, Rebecca quietly followed the hobbits and Haldir to a large silver-barked tree where a long slender rope was hanging, looking at it in horror at the thought of climbing it. She tilted her head back to see how far up they would have to climb and she almost fell backwards it was so high. "Pippin," she hissed, grabbing the young hobbits arm, "how are we going to climb that high? Are hobbits good rope climbers?" Pippin shook his head mutely, his eyes wide with fear. "Well, we can do it Pip! If you can do it, I can do it too... heck even Gimli's going to have to climb!" Her voice shook slightly and she tried to smile encouragingly at Pippin, but mostly she was trying to convince herself.

"Do not fear, Lady Rebecca, my brother and I will not let you fall," Haldir glanced back at her.

"Oh, thank you, Captain Haldir," Rebecca smiled at him nervously.

"You may call my Haldir, Lady Rebecca, only my wardens call me Captain."

"All right," Rebecca nodded.

Haldir directed first Frodo and then Sam to ascend the tree using the rope. There were knots and those seemed to really help the hobbits. As the hobbits climbed Rúmil moved alongside them effortlessly, ready to help them if needed. Rebecca glanced over to the tree some distance away where the others were staying, but the rapidly fading light made it impossible to see anything.

"You will be safe here with me and my brothers, Lady Rebecca," Haldir's voice sounded quietly from beside her.

Startled, Rebecca looked up to see Haldir looking down at her with what she thought might be concern. "I-I know that. Aragorn trusts you and I trust him."

Haldir actually smiled at that comment, "You are wise to place your trust in Aragorn, Lady Rebecca. He is the only mortal I have ever trusted in all the long years of my life... and that is a very long time."

Rebecca nodded and felt herself relax slightly as she smiled tentatively at Haldir.

"Now come, Lady Rebecca, it is your turn."

Turning around Rebecca saw that the hobbits had disappeared into the foliage above. Taking a deep breath she approached the rope biting her lip nervously as she reached out to grab it. She paused looking down at her broken wrist uncertainly.

"Uh... Haldir I don't think I can do this... my wrist is hurt," Rebecca held up her arm. "I sort of forgot, it's doing so much better and I'm tired." Rebecca was apologetic. "Do I have to stay down here?" She asked him wide-eyed.

"No, Lady Rebecca you will not stay here," Haldir stated calmly. "It would not be safe. I shall carry you to the talan."

"Carry me? You can't carry me up there!"

"Why not?" Haldir stared at her questioningly.

"You might drop me... and I'm too heavy for you to carry." Rebecca's voice was thick with embarrassment and she stared down at her feet, once again cursing her broken wrist and wondering how many more weeks it would be before it was fully healed.

"Lady Rebecca, I will not drop you and you are definitely not too heavy. You said that you would trust me did you not?"

Rebecca nodded reluctantly and looked up into his icy blue eyes, "Yes, Haldir, I did."

"Well?" Haldir smiled faintly.

"All right, then let's get it over with."

"Good." Without another word, Haldir scooped her up gently, with one arm under her knees and one arm around her back. "Put your arms around my neck and hold on tightly." Rebecca hastened to obey and when she was secure, Haldir grabbed the rope and started rapidly to the top, arriving quicker than Rebecca would have thought possible. He set her down gently and then pulled the rope up, neatly coiling it to one side of the hole.

"Th-thank you, Haldir."

"You are most welcome, my Lady." Haldir gave her a short bow and left to talk with Rúmil.

Rebecca stared after him shaking her head, amazed at his strength and agility. She did not understand how someone so slender could have that kind of strength, but Legolas did too and so she knew it was just an elvish quality.

"You didn't even have to climb!" Pippin's vaguely accusing voice caused Rebecca to look up and she was startled to see him looking at her angrily.

"Pippin!" Frodo scolded.

Rebecca stared at Pippin wide-eyed, "I-I couldn't do it Pippin... my wrist..." Shocked and somewhat baffled at his outburst, she turned away from him and the other hobbits, resting her head on her pulled up knees with a weary sigh. Muffled whispers and a small yelp told her that Pippin was being scolded, but she didn't really care. She knew he didn't really mean anything... he was just as tired as she was. Rebecca yawned and decided to find her bedroll so she could sleep.

"Rebecca?" Pippin's voice was low and uncertain.

Rebecca opened her eyes and squinted up at him in the growing darkness, "Yes, Pip?"

"I-I'm sorry, Rebecca. I shouldn't have said that. It was mean and I forgot about your wrist. I'm glad you didn't have to climb."

Rebecca patted his arm gently, "It's all right, Pippin. I forgot about my wrist too until I started to climb. I'm not mad at you. We're both tired...and I'm thirsty... and hungry," Rebecca frowned thoughtfully, "We didn't even eat lunch. You must be starving!" She stifled a giggle at the glum expressions on the hobbits faces as Sam muttered,

"And the food is with the others so there won't be no supper either."

"Oh, well... I'm sorry. I'm hungry too, but mostly I just want to sleep." The hobbits nodded in agreement and turned to find their bedrolls. Their way was blocked by Haldir who had approached silently and now stood holding out some leaf-wrapped packages.

"Try these, Lady Rebecca, Master Hobbits. It should satisfy your hunger."

Eager hobbit hands reached for the food while Rebecca took hers carefully.

Unwrapping it quickly, Pippin looked up at Haldir questioningly. "What is it? Cram?" he sniffed before nibbling on a corner. Finding it to his taste he rapidly started eating it not bothering to listen to Haldir's reply.

"It is lembas, little one."

"Thank you, Haldir. It's very good." Rebecca ate slowly, savoring each bite of the invigorating lembas. "It's nice to have something different to eat."

Haldir nodded in acknowledgement. "My brothers and I are leaving for a short time to check on the borders. Do not fear, we will return swiftly." With that, Haldir and his brothers vanished into the surrounding treetops as if they had never been there. Rebecca and the hobbits stared after them.

"Elves!" Merry finally whispered, shaking his head in amazement before returning to his supper.

0-0-0-0-0

Grunts and low guttural voices awoke Thomas sometime in the middle of the night. As he fumbled for his sword, a hand firmly clasped his wrist to hold it still, while at the same time, a finger was laid warningly on his lips. Thomas nodded his head slightly and the hands were withdrawn. He listened as orcs passed beneath the trees, praying the creatures would not discover them. He couldn’t imagine having to fight now and he realized that Aragorn had told him the truth long ago – that you didn’t just fight when you were rested. Finally the last of the orcs passed and the sounds faded into the distance as the creatures moved deeper into the woods.

"They are gone Thomas, go back to sleep," Legolas spoke quietly.

"Will they come back?"

"No. The Galadhrim will not let any leave the woods alive. We are quite safe now."

Thomas rolled over and instantly fell back asleep.

0-0-0-0-0

Dawn found the Fellowship well on their way to Caras Galadhon. It was a brisk two day walk to the elven city, but within the borders of Lothlórien they were protected and safe. The farther in they walked the larger and more beautiful the trees became, with some trees having silver bark and golden leaves. Small sun-dappled glades and the sounds of singing birds brought a measure of peace to their hurt and weary bodies.

Aragorn noticed with amusement that Thomas was sticking close to him again. He wasn't sure if Thomas was even aware of it himself or if it was some kind of unconscious reaction to the events of the previous day. Aragorn glanced back at him,

"How is your arm, Thomas?"

"What? Oh, it's fine."

"Good. If we stay here a few days to rest, I want Legolas to begin teaching you to use a bow. I also want you to continue to practice with Boromir and me."

"Yes sir. Legolas and I talked a little bit about that in...," Thomas cleared his throat, "Moria."

Aragorn nodded before frowning down at the scimitar Thomas carried.

"We need to get you a sword as well. I will ask my... Lord Celeborn if he will provide something for you. And clothes too... for you and Rebecca." Aragorn glanced back to where Rebecca was walking alone behind the hobbits.

"That would be great, Aragorn!"

"Sword or clothes?" Aragorn looked down at Thomas with his eyebrow raised questioningly.

"Well-well both. But, honestly clean clothes is what I meant."

Aragorn laughed and Thomas thought he heard a muffled noise from Haldir, who was leading them, but he couldn't be sure.

"Rebecca and I haven't had clean clothes since we've been here, Aragorn," he pointed out indignantly.

"It has only been a fortnight, Thomas. Though your clothes are ripped and torn and the material is quite thin."

"In my world we get clean clothes almost every day and we take baths every day too."

Aragorn almost stopped in his tracks as he stared at Thomas. "Every day?"

"Yes."

"No wonder it has been so hard for Rebecca. Though she has not complained, I have seen her expressions as she looks at her clothes or her joy when we come to a stream and she can really wash."

Haldir looked back from the front of the column, "Aragorn, what did Thomas mean about 'his world'?"

Thomas looked at Aragorn apologetically, but Aragorn just smiled. "It is all right Thomas; I will explain it to Haldir. I told you, that it was a long and strange story, but we appear to have the time now so..."

0-0-0-0-0

Enjoying the beauty of the Lothlórien woods, Rebecca walked alone behind the hobbits. The peacefulness and the very air that surrounded her seemed almost magical and she felt refreshed and revived even as she walked. She knew from listening to Aragorn that the elves who dwelt in this forest had somehow created a 'cocoon' around these woods that kept out evil. But this cocoon also served to keep in all of the goodness of the elves. Rebecca wondered again about the 'magic' of the elves and the incredible power they seemed to possess.

Gazing into the woods at some of the unusual trees, Rebecca started thinking about this elven city they were approaching. Aragorn had told her it was the most beautiful place he had ever seen. Rebecca was just excited to see some form of civilization again after weeks outdoors. She just hoped it had hot water and bathtubs so she could get clean. There would be women there too, at least elf women and hopefully some would be here. Glancing down at herself Rebecca shuddered, and she wondered if should could buy some new clothes, though she didn’t have any money. Maybe Aragorn could buy her some, though he had done so much for her already and she knew she would never be able to pay him back. Thomas had told her that Boromir was a prince so he might have money, or Legolas. Rebecca sighed softly and glanced ahead at Legolas, careful not to look too long because she knew by now that he would notice and look back at her. She wondered if he had relatives here. Haldir had been very respectful towards him last night, though he was that way with everyone except Gimli. Remembering something Boromir had mentioned the day before, Rebecca dropped back to speak with him.

"Boromir, you said yesterday that there were stories in your country about this place."

"Yes..." Boromir answered cautiously and frowned slightly, "why?"

"Well what kind of stories? Are they in books? Can I read them when I get to your city? Do you have libraries? Are..."

"Peace, Lady Rebecca slow down, I can only answer one question at a time."

"I'm sorry," Rebecca smiled sheepishly. "It's something I've wanted to ask you for a long time and I kept forgetting. And you mentioning stories reminded me," Rebecca looked up at Boromir. "I really miss reading books, Boromir." She shrugged slightly, "I read all the time at home... not that we've had time so far," they laughed briefly, "but maybe someday."

Boromir smiled fondly at Rebecca, "You sound like my brother."

"You have a brother?"

"Yes, Faramir. He's younger than me."

"That's nice. To have a brother, I mean."

"Well, you will like him I think. He enjoys reading and libraries and writing. Things of that nature." Boromir waved his hand dismissively. "But he is also a fierce warrior and is the captain of my Ithilien Rangers. He will be able to tell you what books and stories are in our library. Of course you will be able to borrow whatever you want." Boromir smiled at the expression of pure joy on Rebecca's face.

"Thanks that will be wonderful!"

The sound of rushing water caught Rebecca's attention and she realized they had come to the edge of a fast moving river. But there was no bridge.

"How do we cross this?"

"I know not," he looked down at Rebecca with a small smile, "I am sure the elves have a hidden way."

"They do seem to be good at that, don't they?"

"Indeed they do. I am sure there is no bridge as a protective measure for their city." Boromir shrugged, "I would do the same."

Rebecca nodded and watched as an elf appeared on the far side of the river throwing a rope across to Haldir. He secured it tightly to a tree and nimbly walked across it to the other side of the river.

"I don't think I can do that, Boromir," Rebecca muttered quietly.

"Me either!" Boromir chuckled, "But have patience; Haldir knows we are not elves."

Two more ropes were quickly thrown across the river and attached to trees so that the mortals would have hand 'rails' for balance.

The hobbits crossed first, grasping both ropes as if their lives depended on it and staring straight ahead at the elves waiting on the other side. Thomas, Gimli and Boromir crossed rapidly in quick succession, though Gimli had a bad moment when the weight of his axes almost pulled him off balance. Rebecca stepped forward next, thinking how she was really starting to hate the sight of rope as she placed her foot on the 'bridge'.

"Lady Rebecca, what are you doing?" a firm pair of hands grasped her waist and gently pulled her back.

Confused, she turned to see that Legolas had pulled her back and was now looking down at her with a slight frown.

"I told you she would try mellon nín," Aragorn said with a faint smile.

"You did, but I did not think she would truly attempt it."

"What's the matter?" Rebecca looked back and forth between Aragorn and Legolas. "If they did it, I can do it," she pointed across to where the others were waiting.

"They do not have broken wrists, Rebecca," Aragorn chided softly. "You will not have the strength or the balance with one arm to support yourself."

Rebecca groaned in frustration, "When will this be healed, Aragorn? I'm so tired of this."

"A month... though we may ask an elven healer to help you."

Rebecca's eyes lit up, "That would be wonderful!"

"Right now however, Legolas is going to carry you across the river."

Nodding in resignation, Rebecca sighed, "Of course he is. Elves seem to be carrying me everywhere these days," she mumbled.

Legolas looked down at Rebecca with amusement in his eyes, "That is because elves delight in carrying beautiful maidens, Lady Rebecca." Legolas swiftly picked her up and she clung tightly to his shoulders, shutting her eyes in embarrassment as her cheeks turned bright red. "Ready?" he asked softly. At her nod, he started across the bridge. "Open your eyes, Lady Rebecca."

Legolas set her down next to Thomas and Rebecca looked up at him with awe, "I didn't even feel you move!"

He shrugged gracefully and smiled, "I am an elf... it is how I move."

After Aragorn crossed, Rebecca and Thomas were preparing to move on when Haldir spoke up.

"Now that we have crossed the Celebrant the dwarf must be blindfolded in accordance with our laws." His voice was not cold or unkind, but this was said so matter-of-factly and without question that Rebecca and Thomas stared at each other in bewilderment.

"But," Gimli protested loudly, "I have done nothing wrong! I'll not wear a blindfold. I'm not an enemy. Why am I singled out?" he cried.

"It is our law and I cannot change it. I am only allowing you entrance at the request of Lord Aragorn. But you must wear a blindfold for no dwarf may see the secret paths that lead to our city."

"Then I shall return to my home."

"You cannot. Once you have entered my Lady's realm you may not leave without speaking with her." Haldir stared down challengingly at Gimli.

"I will wear a blindfold with you, Gimli." Thomas spoke quietly and stepped up beside the dwarf. Gimli blinked and looked up in surprise.

"Thank you lad, but..."

"I will too..." Rebecca broke in. "I don't understand why Haldir is being so mean and why elves..." she glared at Legolas, "and dwarves don't get along, but I'll wear one with you."

"All of us will wear a blindfold, Haldir. Gimli should not be singled out." Aragorn spoke commandingly and his look at Legolas stopped any protest the elf was about to utter. As Haldir nodded in agreement, Aragorn looked thoughtfully at Thomas and Rebecca wondering what made them stand up for Gimli. He knew neither of them were particularly close to Gimli, in fact Rebecca often seemed to avoid him. He decided that it was probably the fact that he was part of our group, their ‘family’ now. Whatever their reason, it was well done.

As Haldir approached with his blindfold, Aragorn sighed. "Lord Aragorn, Haldir? Just, Aragorn," he spoke quietly. "Only Legolas knows of my relationship to the Lord and Lady, Haldir and I do not know if I shall tell the others.”

Haldir nodded, "As you wish, my Lord. Now as you commanded I am afraid I must place this blindfold on you."

"I will miss the beauty of the woods as we walk," Aragorn commented as he turned around.

"You do not have to wear this. Only the dwarf does."

"Ah, but I do. Rebecca and Thomas were quite right in sticking up for Gimli."

"But he is a dwarf!"

"I know, Haldir, I know, and elves and dwarves do not get along. But we are all one company traveling together and we have to get along or we will fail... I think that is tight enough, Haldir!"

"Forgive me, Aragorn, I thought I was tying the dwarf's," he mumbled.

Aragorn laughed, "Gimli is an excellent warrior and he has a good heart, Haldir. You just do not know him..."

"And I do not wish too either."

Aragorn sighed, "We should probably move on."

"Let us depart then."

0-0-0-0-0

The afternoon slowly passed as the Fellowship walked blindfolded through the forest. Each person was led by an elf and the paths were so smooth and clear that no one even stumbled. There was little speech because few of the elves spoke the common tongue and it was difficult to communicate with those in front or behind when walking in single file.

As dusk approached they stopped at what was evidently a clearing at the side of the trail. The elf guiding Rebecca helped her sit down next to someone with a tree behind her to lean against.

"Are you well, Rebecca?"

Rebecca turned to her left, "I'm fine Aragorn... how did you know it was me?"

Aragorn laughed quietly, "Only my eyes are covered, Rebecca, all of my other senses work just fine. I have known the sound of your step since I first met you. The sound of your breathing is different than all of the others. Your hand also brushed my hair as you sat down... shall I go on?"

"No, you've made your point," Rebecca laughed as well. "I don't know why I'm ever surprised at the things you do." Lowering her voice she whispered, "Will they make us wear these blindfolds all night, Aragorn?"

"Yes, it is their law and Haldir has not the authority to break it."

"Oh, I thought maybe once it was dark and we couldn't see anything anyway we could take it off. It's so strange wearing it."

"Are you in pain, Rebecca?" Thomas spoke up suddenly from the other side of her.

"Oh, no... just wondering is all."

They sat quietly for a moment and listened to the sounds of the forest. Finally, Aragorn asked the question he had been pondering all afternoon.

"Thomas," he asked quietly so as not to be overheard, "why did you stand with Gimli?"

Thomas paused in thought before answering, "It's wrong to treat someone differently because of their race, Aragorn and that was the only reason that I could see that Haldir was making Gimli wear one." He spoke with quiet conviction.

"Was that your reason Rebecca?"

"No... not exactly though I totally agree with Thomas. It's just Gimli is one of us... like my-my family here," Rebecca swallowed hard, "and I couldn't stand to see him treated that way."

Aragorn nodded slowly, forgetting that they could not see him, "I was proud of you for standing up for him. It was well done."

Both Rebecca and Thomas smiled at his words.

"Aragorn, why do elves and dwarves hate each other?"

"It is a long story, Thomas, but the conflict goes back many, many centuries and there is fault on both sides," Aragorn sighed softly.

"It just surprises me, Aragorn, to see elves acting... so..."

"Childish?" Aragorn smothered a laugh as he thought of his brothers and Legolas.

"Well, I guess. They are so old. It seems they would get over whatever happened."

"But remember, Rebecca... they are old and they have perfect memories so sometimes it is difficult to get over things easily. I was raised with elves and believe me, they do not forget!"

"How come you like Gimli then? I mean if you were raised with elves... and why were you raised with elves anyway, Aragorn?"

"One question at a time, Rebecca! I like Gimli because of who he is... he is my friend..."

Their conversation was interrupted when Haldir and Rúmil brought dinner. It was some sort of dried fruit and more of the Lembas bread, but it tasted delicious. Thomas and Rebecca were grateful for the change from their usual diet of tough dried meat and cram that they had eaten for days. Haldir also gave them their bedrolls and after eating Thomas and Rebecca curled up and went quickly to sleep.

Aragorn however filled his pipe and asked Haldir to bring him a light from the fire. He sat smoking quietly long into the night, grieving the loss of Gandalf. Remembering all of the times they had spent together over the years, all of the things Gandalf had taught him as a young man and had continued to teach him through the years. There had been many good times together in Rivendell but many more difficult, dangerous times as they worked together to protect the northern parts of Middle Earth.

Aragorn shook his head slightly in disbelief and tears filled his eyes behind the blindfold, how can Gandalf die? I will miss him. His wisdom, his guidance... his pushing me along when I was content as a ranger not wanting this path that may lead me to be a king. But his friendship is what I will miss the most. Aragorn sighed softly wishing he could take the blindfold off so he could see the stars or take a walk or do something... anything besides just sitting here brooding. Finally he emptied his pipe, wrapped his cloak tightly about himself and slept.

0-0-0-0-0

Faint sunlight filtered around the edge of Aragorn's blindfold as he awoke. Gracefully stretching before standing he carefully stepped over Rebecca's sleeping form and unerringly approached the fire where he heard Haldir and Legolas's low voices. Touching their shoulders lightly as he passed he crouched down next to Legolas, warming his hands at the fire.

"Good morning, Mellyn nín," Aragorn spoke quietly.

Haldir and Legolas responded in kind and the three talked quietly as the others slowly woke around them. Rebecca, as usual, was the last to wake, but jumped up quickly when she remembered they would be reaching a city sometime during the day.

The fellowship and their guides quickly headed down the path toward Caras Galadhon, anxious to reach it before nightfall. About mid-morning, Haldir stopped the column to speak with an elf who had intercepted them. After talking with him briefly, Haldir approached Gimli.

"I have news from my Lady, Galadriel. She says that all may walk in these woods freely. Since the dwarf, Gimli, felt grievously insulted by this blindfold, I will remove his first that he may be the first to gaze upon the beauty of our Golden Wood."

Haldir quickly removed Gimli's blindfold before stepping back and bowing slightly to the dwarf. Gimli blinked in the sudden light and as his eyes adjusted he looked around in awe at the towering mallorn trees with their silver bark and golden flowers. The woods here were all mallorn trees and they had thick trunks and grew closely together. The rest of the group soon had their blindfolds removed and they joined Gimli in his open-mouthed look of awe as they stared at the woods that surrounded them.

"Come," Haldir beckoned them on, "we should make faster time now."

Free of the blindfolds, they did indeed move more easily. The woods grew even more beautiful as the day progressed. There were flowers and flowering bushes and the sounds of the birds seemed more musical.

How can there be flowers blooming in January, Rebecca wondered, though it wasn’t very cold. She decided it was some type of elven magic and she smiled.

Rebecca found herself walking with the hobbits again, though little conversation passed between them. She was tired and thinking about the city and she noticed that Frodo seemed particularly quiet and withdrawn. There were dark circles under his eyes and she noticed his hand kept fiddling with the chain that held the ring. He's not doing well, she thought sadly. She wished she could help him and she wondered if she could carry the Ring for awhile so he could rest. Rebecca started and shook her head in disbelief wondering where the heck that thought came from. She knew there was no way she was touching that evil thing, but wondered why the thought had even popped into her head. She glanced at Frodo again and looked ahead to Aragorn determined to talk to him at the next opportunity. Rebecca slowed her steps slightly until she was walking behind the hobbits, unwilling at the moment to be near Frodo. Instead she focused her thoughts on the elven city.

0-0-0-0-0

It was late when the Fellowship caught the first glimpse of Caras Galadhon. It was breathtaking. It was surrounded by a small grassy embankment that was similar to a moat except it held no water. They approached a wooden gate where Haldir knocked and spoke some words and it opened for them. The giant mallorn trees above them were filled with twinkling lights and the sounds of elvish voices and laughter drifted down to them as they crossed a wide lawn to the largest mallorn tree they had seen thus far. As they stopped at the base of the tree, Thomas and Rebecca moved closer to Aragorn and he smiled at them reassuringly.

"It's beautiful, Aragorn!"

"Where are the elves?"

"The elves are in their homes... their talans are in the trees above us. You will see them as we climb Thomas."

A horn sounded from above and the group started climbing the stairs. They climbed and they climbed and they climbed. They passed through talans on the way up... some small and some seeming to be walkways that led to other talans or other trees.

Finally, just when both Rebecca and Thomas thought they couldn’t take another step they reached a large talan. It was larger than a gymnasium would be on earth Rebecca thought. While several elves were standing along the sides, it was the two elves sitting at the end of the hall that immediately drew the attention of the Fellowship. Even sitting down you could tell that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were tall, taller than most elves. They were dressed in pure white robes that sparkled in the lights hanging from the branches of the tree that surrounded the talan. Celeborn had beautiful silver hair and silver blue eyes that spoke of moonlight, while Galadriel's hair was as golden as the sun and her eyes were a light shade of grey that had shimmering flecks of starlight reflecting in their depths. The two elves stood in greeting.

"Welcome to Caras Galadhon." Galadriel spoke graciously in greeting, nodding slightly.

Rebecca stared at her unblinking. She was the most beautiful woman... female she had ever seen and she was female and it had been so long since she had seen a female – woman or elf. Rebecca bit her lip nervously wondering if she would be able to talk to her later.

'Patience child', an amused voice said in her head. Rebecca jerked and looked around, wondering what was going on. Her eyes fell on the lady elf... Galadriel she thought she was called and the elf smiled slightly at her. And Rebecca wondered if the voice she had heard had come from her. Rebecca swallowed hard and decided she better pay closer attention to what was going on, though she also inched closer to Aragorn.

Thomas too was awestruck by the majesty and power of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. He had been thoroughly impressed by Legolas and his incredible warrior skills, his innate grace, his gentleness and all of his other skills. But this was different. This was wisdom beyond his ability to understand and an incredible power of some kind that he could sense but not comprehend. And if Legolas and Haldir seemed old, these elves were truly ancient and he found he could not look at them for long. Yet there was also a sense of goodness and purity in the Lord and Lady.

Rebecca and Thomas listened quietly as Celeborn and Galadriel questioned Aragorn and the others about the journey from Rivendell. As Aragorn told the part about finding them, Celeborn's piercing gaze fell first upon Thomas and then Rebecca. But neither could hold his gaze for more than a few seconds and they looked down at the floor. A moment passed and then Aragorn continued on with the story.

Relieved, Rebecca and Thomas exchanged glances from the corners of their eyes, but kept their heads down trying not to draw attention to themselves, though they heard their names mentioned several times as Aragorn talked. Tears trickled down their cheeks when Aragorn told Celeborn and Galadriel about Gandalf's fall in Moria. They looked up in shock at Celeborn's anger at Gimli and the dwarves for stirring up the balrog only to hear Galadriel sooth away his anger.

Finally Celeborn gave them all a warning that the Fellowship was on the brink of failure and that it would only take a little thing to push them over the edge. But then Galadriel spoke up,

"But there is still hope," and she looked at each member of the Fellowship and read their hearts to reveal their deepest longings and desires. None could endure her gaze for long except for Legolas and Aragorn. "Now you are weary and soiled. Haldir will escort you down to the tents we have prepared for you on the lawn. Aragorn, would you remain here along with Thomas and Lady Rebecca?"

Aragorn nodded with a slight smile though Thomas and Rebecca exchanged nervous glances as they watched their friends led away.

As the last of the Fellowship members disappeared down the stairs, Celeborn rose and approached his grandson, embracing him firmly, "It has been long since I have seen you Estel."

"I know, Daeradar, I know." Aragorn smiled up at Celeborn before moving over to greet his grandmother. He bowed, "Daernaneth."

She cupped his check gently as she kissed his forehead, "Estel."

Confused, Rebecca and Thomas watched as they greeted each other like family. As the three continued to speak quietly to each other in elvish, Thomas whispered to Rebecca, "The longer I'm here the more confused I am. I know Aragorn is a man, but he was raised by elves. Not these elves because this isn't Rivendell. But they obviously know him pretty well. Do you think he is part elf, Rebecca?"

A slight noise interrupted Thomas and they both looked up to see Galadriel looking at them with a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Estel, you need to tell these children who you are, but not tonight. They are weary and in need of rest. I did ask you to stay behind for a reason however." Suddenly, Galadriel was standing right in front of them. "First, Lady Rebecca, I would offer you healing for your wrist if you would allow that."

"Oh, would you please? That would be wonderful!" Rebecca grinned.

Galadriel gently grasped Rebecca's arm and slowly undid the bandages, removing the socks and arrow shafts and handing it all to Thomas who was hovering nearby. Rebecca gasped in horror at the way her wrist looked – the skin pasty-white and all wrinkled.

"It will be fine, child." Galadriel laid her hands on the wrist, one on top and one underneath and spoke softly in elvish for several seconds. As she spoke, Rebecca could feel warmth flood through her wrist and hand followed by a tingling sensation. As Galadriel released her hand, Rebecca looked down to see her hand looked perfectly normal – no discolorations of any kind. She flexed her fingers gingerly and when there was no pain she tried her wrist and found it was also pain-free. Rebecca looked up at Galadriel with both joy and awe.

"Thank you so much... you don't know how much this means to me."

"Oh, I have an idea," Galadriel said with a faint smile. "But you are welcome, child. Now, I have made arrangements for you to have a private talan. I also have new clothes for both you and Thomas."

Thomas and Rebecca grinned at each other.

"And, yes, you may have a warm bath."

Rebecca sighed, it sounded too good to be true, except... "Uh, excuse me, Lady Galadriel?"

"Yes, child?"

"What did you mean about a private talan?"

"Your own room, with a private bath and sitting area."

"Oh. And where will Aragorn and Thomas and everyone else be?"

"In tents down on the lawn."

"Why can't I be with them?" Rebecca looked up at Galadriel questioningly.

"Child, your heart has longed for a private place since you have been in middle earth, has it not?" Galadriel looked down at her kindly.

Rebecca nodded reluctantly, "Yes" she whispered.

Thomas looked at Galadriel wondering how she could know what Rebecca had wanted the whole time she had been in middle earth and if she knew the same kind of stuff about him. 'Yes, I do, Young Thomas', he heard Galadriel's amused voice respond in his head. Worried at that thought, Thomas hung his head hoping that his thoughts wouldn't somehow be used against him. He started when he felt an arm slip around his shoulder and he looked up to see Aragorn gazing at him with understanding while Celeborn stood just beyond watching him intently.

"Fear not, Thomas. Lady Galadriel means neither you nor Rebecca any harm. She has special... gifts to see into people, but she will not use that knowledge for ill purposes."

Thomas studied Aragorn for a moment and then nodded once as he released the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Thanks, Aragorn, it's strange to have someone talking in my head."

"I know." Aragorn responded dryly, "I have had to deal with it my whole life."

Thomas smiled and turned back to Rebecca and Galadriel. Evidently Rebecca had decided to use the talan and Thomas grinned, glad that she would have a nice place to rest.

"Brethil," Galadriel called quietly and one of the ellyth standing on the sides of the hall quickly approached.

"Lady Rebecca, this is Brethil. She is one of the few Lothlórien elves who speak the common tongue." Brethil bowed first to Galadriel and then to Rebecca.

"Well met, Lady Rebecca." Brethil had a sweet musical voice to go along with her long shimmering silver hair and her startling light green eyes.

"Well met, Brethil," Rebecca bowed in return.

"Lady Rebecca, Brethil will show you to your talan and help you get settled. She will also be your guide while you are here."

"Thank you Lady Galadriel. You are most kind." Rebecca smiled up at her before glancing over at Aragorn and Thomas. Aragorn gave her an encouraging smile while Thomas just stared.

Rebecca gave them a small wave before taking a deep breath and following Brethil from the talan.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Translations:

mellon nín – my friend

Daro – halt

Mellyn nín – my friends

Daeradar – Grandfather

Daernaneth – Grandmother

Estel – Hope, Aragorn’s childhood name given to him by Elrond


Chapter 11 - Lothlorien

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Notes: Because of time constraints and my limited elvish language skills (I can read some but writing it correctly is a whole different thing!) I have decided to show conversations that take place in 'Elvish' by placing them in italics. That way I can show private conversations between any of the characters. I will still have a few elvish words sprinkled in here and there throughout the story and I will continue to translate those at the end of the chapter. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon, Aragorn sees Celeborn and Galadriel as his grandparents and they see him as their grandson. Not only is he betrothed to their granddaughter but he was raised in Rivendell by their son-in-law.

Chapter 11 – Lothlórien

Thomas stared for several minutes in the direction Rebecca had disappeared. He was glad she would have a special place to stay, but it was strange to think they would be apart. Finally, he turned his attention back to the conversation in time to hear Aragorn say,

“Daeradar, would you be able to give Thomas a sword? And a bow? As you can see he is ill equipped.”

Celeborn nodded as he looked at Thomas, “I did indeed notice. It is not often one comes into my presence with a drawn blade of any kind... let alone an orc scimitar.”

Thomas flushed and looked down at the blade he still carried loosely in his hand. It was so much a part of him now that he had forgotten it was even there. He swiftly set it down in front of him and backed up, “I-I’m sorry sir...my lord,” he fumbled for the right words, “I...I forgot I carried it.” He glanced briefly up at Celeborn and then stared down at his feet again.

Thomas felt rather than saw someone in front of him.

“Here,” a quiet voice reached his ear and he looked up, startled, to find Celeborn in front of him handing him the scimitar. Automatically, Thomas reached for the blade at the tone of quiet command in the one word uttered by Celeborn. He took it carefully, making sure the tip stayed pointed at the ground.

“Did it serve you well, Young Thomas?” The elf-lord inquired gravely.

Not entirely sure what Celeborn was asking, Thomas licked his lips nervously before replying, “Yes, my lord.” He glanced at Aragorn, but the ranger was just standing nearby with his arms crossed watching impassively.

“I meant did you fight well with it in the battle against the orcs?” Celeborn’s voice had softened slightly.

Thomas looked up at Celeborn then and held his eyes briefly before gazing past the elf-lord. He shivered slightly as images from the battle, images he’d tried to forget flashed through his mind. “Oh. I...I guess I did all right with it sir. I mean my lord. It... I killed two orcs... but Rebecca helped with one... she saved my life, sir... and” Thomas shrugged helplessly as he looked at Celeborn again. “I was slightly wounded,” He held up his arm, “sir... my lord,” he quickly amended, cursing himself inwardly for forgetting again.

‘Be at peace, Young Thomas. No one thinks you ill-mannered.’ Thomas heard Galadriel’s voice in his head again and he glanced over briefly to see her gazing at him with a half-smile. He nodded in acknowledgement and turned his attention back to Celeborn who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

“You did the only thing that matters in any battle Young Thomas... you survived it. I would say the blade served you well. However, I believe that an elven sword would serve you better on the journey you have ahead of you.” Thomas looked up at him gratefully to find a hint of amusement in the elf-lord’s eyes.

“Thank you sir... my lord.”

“You will continue to work hard on your training?”

“Yes, my lord. I have a lot to learn with the sword and Legolas is also going to teach me how to use a bow... if we are here long enough,” Thomas glanced at Aragorn who nodded.

“Good. You will need both those skills living in middle earth.” Celeborn’s voice had changed and was once more lordly and distant and Thomas wondered at the change. “Then you shall also have the bow that you will require to gain that skill. Now, I believe it is time for you to get some much needed rest.”

“Yes, my lord.” Thomas bowed and turned to leave before remembering Galadriel. “Oh. Good-night, Lady Galadriel,” he bowed to her before joining Aragorn.

The two of them descended the stairs rapidly, heading down to the lawn where a large tent had been erected for the members of the Fellowship. Thomas had so many questions he wanted to ask Aragorn that he almost asked if they could stop and talk, but he was just too tired. He knew he would just have to wait until tomorrow. He shrugged mentally, it didn’t sound like they were going anywhere soon. He wondered how Rebecca was doing and was so deep in thought that Thomas didn’t notice they had reached the ground and he stumbled slightly and had to steady himself on Aragorn’s shoulder to keep from falling. Aragorn looked back at him questioningly.

Thomas grinned sheepishly, “Sorry, I missed the last step.”

“I think you need to go to bed,” Aragorn grinned back. “The bathing pools are over there and then you can sleep.”

Thomas nodded eagerly at the thought of getting a ‘real’ bath. “Well, come on then, let’s get going.”

Aragorn just shook his head slightly in amusement as he strolled along after Thomas.

0-0-0-0-0

Following Brethil along the walkways between the trees, Rebecca kept carefully to the middle as there were no handrails for her to hold on to. They passed many elves along the way and while a few nodded or smiled at her, many seemed not to even see her. They descended several flights of stairs and after a ten minute walk they approached a talan.

It was small and sat in a cluster of five or six other talans that connected to the same tree. Rebecca glanced down and was relieved to see that it was not too far off the ground. Unlike the talan she had stayed on with Haldir and the hobbits, this one had walls and a roof. But both were made of leaves and vines and seemed to be alive as they were green and fresh. How is that possible, does it stay warm and is private, she wondered as they approached the door.

“This shall be your talan while you are here, Lady Rebecca,” Brethil smiled as she opened the door. “My talan is right there,” she pointed to a larger talan directly across from Rebecca’s, “should you ever need anything.”

“Lady Brethil, may I ask you a favor?” Rebecca looked up at the tall elleth before stepping into the talan.

“Of course.”

“Would... would you please just call me Rebecca? I-I get tired of the ‘lady’ part. I’m not called that where I’m from and since you’re a girl...”

Brethil’s lips twitched in amusement.

“... well not a girl, but a female I thought...”

“I think I understand the general idea,” Brethil interrupted gently. “If it is your wish I shall call you Rebecca, but only if you call me Brethil.”

Rebecca nodded, “I would like that, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been around any girls... I’m sorry, I mean females. There are no elves where I live and I forget...”

Brethil laughed and it was such a silvery, musical laugh that Rebecca started giggling. “Rebecca, do not apologize for your words. I am not offended for I know what you meant. I would not enjoy traveling with all of those males either. That is why Lady Galadriel has given you this talan. Let us go in.”

Brethil led the way inside and they stopped in the main sitting area. From the inside Rebecca could see that the walls and roof were indeed vines and branches that were woven or trained to grow in intricate patterns. It was dense enough to provide privacy from others, but faint sunlight also filtered in.

The sitting room had two large windows, one to the right of the door and one directly across from it. There was a couch under the window along the right wall and a couple of chairs around a low table in front of it. There were also two cabinets against the walls to the left of the door.

There were two doors off of the sitting room, one to the left led to the bedroom, as Rebecca could see the bed through the open door. The other door in the far left corner of the room led to a bathroom.

“Now the first thing you need is a bath.”

Rebecca nodded eagerly, “Oh, yes. I have been dreaming about a hot bath for days!”

Brethil smiled, “Normally you would join the ellyth down at the bathing pools. But Lady Galadriel wanted you to have a private bath here so hot water has been provided for you.” She led Rebecca into the bathroom where a large wooden tub sat filled with steaming water. “These are soaps and things for your hair,” she pointed out several small containers. When you are finished there are clean clothes in the bedroom.” Rebecca’s eyes lit up at that. “I will wait for you to finish, to see if you need any help.”

“All right, but I’m sure I’ll be fine and I’ll wear anything as long as it’s clean!”

As the elleth left, Rebecca started peeling off her clothes as fast as possible. Her sweater and bra were easy, but when she took off her boots and socks she paused. She looked at the bindings Legolas had placed on her feet many days ago, wondering how to proceed. She tugged on the knot that held it together, but it didn’t budge. Too much sweat and dirt had hardened it into a densely woven mass of material. She tried pushing it down and off her foot, but that didn’t work either, if anything it seemed to tighten the material and she groaned in frustration. Grabbing her sweater she pulled it back on and walked back into the sitting room.

“Brethil, I need your help,” Rebecca walked over to the couch where she was sitting.

“What is the matter?” Brethil looked her up and down in concern.

“Legolas put these on my feet a while ago and I can’t get them off.” Rebecca pointed to her feet.

“Here, sit down,” Brethil motioned to the table in front of her. She picked up Rebecca’s foot and looked closely at the knot. “This will have to be cut... it has been on here so long that untying it will be impossible.” She took a small knife from a pouch that was attached to her dress. “Did you hurt your feet when you broke your wrist and hurt your chin?” Brethil lightly touched the faded scar.

Rebecca shook her head, “No, my feet were just sore from all the walking and my boots aren’t very good. All my other cuts were from an accident.” She shrugged, “I’m fine now,” though her eyes were sad as she looked past Brethil.

“I am glad,” Brethil responded softly, patting her hand. “Now go and take your bath before the water gets cold.”

With a quick smile, Rebecca jumped up and ran back into the bathroom, flinging off her clothes and gingerly stepping into the hot water. She sighed in delight as she slipped down into the tub letting the water roll over her tired and dirty body. She lay back for a few minutes just enjoying the feel of the water and then sat up, took the soap and started the hard work of getting herself clean.

A half hour later, Rebecca stepped out of the tub cleaner than she had been in weeks. She shook her head in disgust as she gazed down at the filthy water that now filled the tub. She shuddered at the thought of all of the dirt that had been on her before she grabbed a towel and briskly dried herself. Looking around she spied a comb and started running it through her hair. She hoped she could buy one to take with her when they left.

Wrapping a towel around herself, Rebecca left the bathroom and headed to the bedroom. She stopped just inside the door gasping at the clothes lying on the bed. “Are these for me, Brethil?” she called. She gently rubbed the material between her fingers marveling at the soft smooth texture.

She glanced up as the elleth entered the room with a smile. “Yes, these are for you. The white gown is for sleeping and the blue is for you to wear tomorrow.”

“But this dress is too pretty to wear outside! I might rip it and I will get it dirty,” Rebecca frowned.

Brethil just laughed. “This is just a plain gown for everyday and if you get it dirty then you shall choose another from the cabinet.” She walked to a tall cabinet and opened the door to reveal several more of the dresses in different colors. “In that cabinet,” she pointed to a dresser under a window, “are leggings and tunics. Lady Galadriel thought you would have need of them.”

Rebecca smiled, “Good. I like to wear dresses, but being outdoors all the time like this, pants are better.”

“Is there anything else you require? Or should I leave you to rest now?” Brethil looked at Rebecca questioningly with a kind smile.

“No, I don’t need anything else.” Rebecca glanced at the bed, “Sleeping in a bed will be wonderful... though it will be strange to be here alone. But no snoring either!” she smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Nodding, Brethil looked closely at Rebecca. “They are nearby Rebecca and I am just across the way. If you need me for any reason, even if it is just to talk or to take you down to your friends, then come and get me. No matter what time it is. You are not alone here,” she finished softly.

“Thank you,” Rebecca whispered, “I’ll do that.”

“Then I will leave you to rest and return in the morning to take you to breakfast.” Brethil smiled at Rebecca once more as she left the talan.

Alone for the first time since her arrival in Middle Earth, Rebecca didn’t know what to do. She looked around the room and her gaze fell on the clothes lying on the bed and she realized she was still wearing the towel. She swiftly changed into the nightgown, enjoying the feel of the fabric against her body.

Sighing, Rebecca took the dress and laid it carefully over a chair in the corner and then returned the wet towel to the bathroom. Returning to the sitting room she looked around and decided to look in the cabinets. One was like a desk and held paper... no... parchment she decided it was called. She fingered it longingly wishing she had a pencil or a pen so she could keep a journal. The other cabinet was quite tall and was empty though it had assorted pegs that suggested it was used to hold clothes or something.

Returning to the bedroom, Rebecca sat on the edge of the bed noticing the softness of the mattress. She picked up a pillow and it too seemed incredibly soft and the quilt was made from a material that was similar to the nightgown she was wearing.

Finally, Rebecca slipped beneath the covers knowing she would not be able to sleep, but the room was growing dark and there was nothing else to do. The sheets and blankets felt so good and she snuggled down into them, enjoying the sense of comfort they provided. Her eyes slowly closed as exhaustion overcame her and she drifted to sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

After they had bathed, Aragorn and Thomas walked to the tent that had been set up on the lawn for the Fellowship. Thomas had been given grey leggings, shirt, and a tunic similar to what the Lothlórien wardens wore.

“How long will we be here, Aragorn?”

“I do not know, we all need to rest and you need to practice,” he grinned at Thomas.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think I’m pretty good now,” Thomas answered smugly before breaking into a grin. “When do you think Lord Celeborn will give me my new sword? I’d like to practice with it. And a bow so Legolas can teach me...”

“Patience, Thomas! You will have them when you need them.” Aragorn’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at Thomas. “I think a bath has done you good. I have never seen you quite so excited about practicing.”

Realizing he was being teased, Thomas wisely kept silent as they approached the tent and the others lounging around outside it talking quietly.

“Where’s Rebecca?” Pippin was the first to notice that she was not with Aragorn and Thomas.

“Lady Galadriel gave her a talan to stay in while we’re here,” Thomas smiled down at the hobbit. “She was nervous about being alone, but excited about sleeping in a real bed.”

“She will enjoy the privacy,” Legolas commented.

“Will we get to see her anymore?” Merry looked from Aragorn to Thomas questioningly.

“Of course, Merry! She will only be sleeping and changing there; she will eat with us and be around during the day. I doubt we could keep Rebecca away if we wanted too.” Aragorn laughed at the relieved expressions on all of the hobbit’s faces.

“Well... I guess it’s all right then,” Pippin sounded as if he wasn’t too sure about the whole thing, but was willing to give it a try.

Aragorn exchanged amused glances with Boromir and Legolas.

“I think it’s good for Lady Rebecca to have her own place after having to travel with us for all this time!” Gimli’s gruff voice was loud even around the pipe he was smoking.

“Indeed it is, she will appreciate it,” Boromir smiled softly.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you!” Thomas exclaimed. “Lady Galadriel also healed Rebecca’s wrist, it’s perfectly fine now.”

The others just stared at him for a moment before the hobbits burst into a flurry of questions for Thomas and Aragorn.

Suddenly their voices stilled as the sound of singing filled the air. It surrounded them in waves of pure, rich harmonies as it softly spilled down from the trees above.

“What is that?” Sam whispered.

“It is a lament for Gandalf,” Legolas replied softly, gazing into the distance and blinking back tears.

“It’s beautiful,” Frodo breathed.

Walking by on his way to the tent, Aragorn clasped Legolas’s shoulder briefly, acknowledging their shared pain. Legolas followed Aragorn, ducking his head as he entered the tent. With a heavy sigh, he laid down on his bedroll with his hands behind his head and stared blankly at the ceiling. Knowing his friend would speak of his sorrow in his own time, Aragorn left him alone with his thoughts. The others soon joined them, glancing briefly at Legolas before quietly settling down for the night with the soft sounds of elvish singing soothing them to sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca awoke with a start. Lying in bed she looked around carefully as events from the previous day slowly came back to her. She smiled as she relaxed back into the soft mattress. Wondering what this day would bring, Rebecca was interrupted by a soft tapping at the door. Rising quickly she crossed to the door and opened it cautiously to find Brethil standing there with a gentle smile on her face.

“Good morning Rebecca.”

“Good morning,” she stretched and yawned as she opened the door and gestured for Brethil to come in.

“Did you rest well? Was the bed comfortable?”

“It was wonderful! So soft and the sheets so smooth and satiny. And the pillow...”

Brethil’s light musical laughter interrupted her and Rebecca joined in somewhat sheepishly.

“Well, it’s been a long time since I slept in a real bed,” she defended herself weakly.

Brethil reached out and touched Rebecca’s arm gently, “Forgive me. I was not laughing at you. I love your excitement over such a simple thing. Things we elves take for granted. That is why I was honored when Lady Galadriel asked me to guide you. Mortals see things so differently than elves; I knew that you would give me a fresh appreciation for life.” She smiled at Rebecca’s look of confusion.

Rebecca stared at Brethil for a moment and then blurted, “How old are you?”

“As mortals count such things I am quite old, but among my people I am considered young. I am 1,509 years old.”

“Oh.” Rebecca sighed softly and stared at her feet.

“What is the matter, Rebecca?” Brethil inquired, gazing at the young girl kindly.

Rebecca glanced up nervously, “I knew you were older, but I was hoping you were a little bit closer to my age.”

“I am the youngest elf in Lothlórien.”

“The youngest?” Rebecca looked at her in disbelief. “There are no elf children? Why?”

Brethil smiled wistfully, “These are dangerous times and our people do not want to risk the lives of their elflings.”

“But that is a long time not to have any... elflings.”

“Not if you are immortal. Many elves will have families in Valinor.”

Rebecca nodded thoughtfully and then smiled. “Well as you are closest to my age, we will have to be friends.”

Laughing, Brethil gently took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. “Yes we shall. Now you need to get dressed so you may join your companions for breakfast.” Rebecca’s eyes lit up as she hurried off to change into the blue dress she had set aside the night before.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn sat leaning against a tree enjoying the pre-dawn stillness that engulfed Lothlórien. His pipe dangled from his mouth, but it had gone out some time before and now Aragorn just absently chewed on the stem as he thought about the future. The death of Gandalf had placed a huge burden on him and he wondered what path he should take… how could he break his word to Boromir - Minas Tirith was their destination. Yet Frodo was the hope for all middle earth and how could he send him alone into Mordor? And, if Aragorn went with Frodo, what would he do with Thomas and Rebecca; Thomas could conceivably go with him... depending on how he improved with his swordplay during their stay here. But he could not take Rebecca to Mordor. So, what he could do with her, Aragorn did not know. He sighed softly as the thoughts tumbled through his mind.

“You are troubled, mellon nín,” Legolas stated as he sank down gracefully next to Aragorn.

Glancing at him with a wry smile, Aragorn nodded. “You can ever read my heart. Is there nothing I can hide from you?”

“No.” Legolas answered shortly, looking at him seriously before breaking into a wide smile. “But I will not press you on this matter, you can tell me or not.” The elf shrugged slightly as he gazed into the woods.

Aragorn snorted, “Will not press me?” He looked at his friend in disbelief. “I also know you too well mellon nín. You will not leave me alone until I tell you what is troubling me.” He laughed at the indignant look that appeared on Legolas’s face. “You never do.”

“That is not true,” Legolas protested, though his eyes told another story as they sparkled with amusement.

“Yes it is...” Aragorn smiled at Legolas, “I think you take lessons from my brothers, they never leave me alone either. But it matters not because I was going to speak with you anyway.” He paused and his smile was replaced with a slight frown. He stretched his long legs out in front of him as he shifted uncomfortably against the tree. “I am unsure of my direction, Legolas,” he admitted quietly. “Without Gandalf everyone looks to me and I do not know the right path to take from here.” He looked up to see Legolas staring at him intently with understanding in his blue eyes.

“To go with Frodo or Boromir?”

“Yes,” Aragorn nodded. “Boromir expects me to go to Minas Tirith... but the Ring...” his voice trailed off.

“What does your heart tell you?”

“Nothing!” Aragorn laughed hollowly. “It is as confused as my head. I do not know if it would be better to take Frodo to Minas Tirith and then leave from there to go to Mordor. Or, go straight from here.” He shook his head in frustration.

“Aragorn you are weary and need to rest,” Legolas said gently. “We will be here some days yet. Enjoy the beauty here and let it sooth your heart and mind. Then make your decisions.” He smiled as he gripped Aragorn’s shoulder firmly. “Now come, we need to eat,” he stood and reached his hand down toward the man.

Grabbing the hand, Aragorn let himself be pulled to his feet. “I am rather hungry,” he commented as he put his pipe away and brushed the dirt from his leggings. Finally, he looked right at Legolas, “You are right mellon nín. I do need to rest... for a day or two. Things will be clearer then.” He smiled, “You are becoming wise in your old age!” he teased.

“One of us must be,” Legolas retorted, smiling as they headed back towards camp.

0-0-0-0-0

Hobbit voices awoke Thomas from a dead sleep. He rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head and tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use. Pulling the blanket down he stretched and yawned as he slowly tuned in to what the hobbits were saying.

“When do you think we will eat? I’m starving!”

That can only be Pippin, Thomas thought with amusement.

“You aren’t starving, Pip! I wonder what we’ll have to eat. Everything here is so wonderful the food must be too!”

“What if it’s just that Lembas bread?” Sam sounded doubtful. “It didn’t taste bad, but I wouldn’t want have it for every meal.”

“Well, I just hope it’s soon and I am starving, Merry! It must be almost time for second breakfast and we haven’t had breakfast yet!”

Thomas heard Pippin sigh dramatically and he started laughing as he sat up. He pulled on his new elven boots and walked from the tent still quietly chuckling. He caught the eyes of first Boromir and then Gimli and they too were smiling in amusement.

“Good morning, Thomas.” A chorus of hobbit voices greeted him cheerfully followed by the gruffer voice of the dwarf and a nod from Boromir.

“Good morning,” Thomas paused, “did I hear breakfast mentioned?” He smiled down at the hobbits as they started up again. Thomas moved over and sat down between Boromir and Gimli.

“Why’d you have to bring up breakfast? Gets them all riled up again,” the dwarf growled.

Thomas shrugged, “They’d have done it anyway.”

“That’s true enough,” he snorted as he watched the hobbits.

“I am always amazed at how much such little folk can eat,” Boromir shook his head. “You have not truly seen it Thomas because you have only been on the trail with us, but at Rivendell...” he paused in remembrance, “one hobbit ate more food than Gimli and I combined.”

“And we eat a lot!” Gimli laughed.

Thomas joined in their laughter as he continued to watch and listen to the hobbits.

“What is so funny?”

Thomas jumped at the sound of Aragorn’s voice, and he twisted around on the log to see the ranger and Legolas standing right behind him. “How do you do that?”

Aragorn just smiled wickedly down at Thomas and nudged him in the back with his knee. “You need to pay more attention to your surroundings, Thomas!”

Thomas thought Aragorn looked more relaxed than he had ever seen him and decided that something about this place must calm and soothe him for some reason. An elbow to his ribs brought Thomas out of his musings.

“What?” he looked at Boromir with a frown. But he just gestured across the lawn and Thomas turned to see Rebecca slowly approaching the camp. She was wearing a blue dress and he was suddenly struck by her beauty. Since he had met her, he had admired her courage, had enjoyed her sense of humor and he loved her heart – the way she treated those around her. But he had never truly been aware of her beauty until now. Thomas swallowed hard as he gazed at her, taking in her expressive brown eyes, which at this moment looked slightly apprehensive and her soft pink lips which were curved into a shy smile. Realizing he was staring, Thomas looked down at his feet in confusion, missing the amused glances that flashed between Aragorn, Legolas and Boromir.

Merry and Pippin rushed to greet Rebecca and pulled her towards the others, talking to her excitedly.

“Rebecca! There you are! I missed you! Did you sleep all right? Hey, you look beautiful! That’s a nice...”

“Pippin!” Merry interrupted his cousin, “let someone else talk to her.” He grinned cheekily as he looked her over. “Pip’s right you know, you do look pretty.”

“It’s just the dress. You just haven’t seen me in a dress before. Or clean either,” Rebecca laughed self-consciously as the three of them joined the others.

Boromir stood as they approached, kicking Thomas’s boot meaningfully as he arose. Taking the not-so-subtle hint, Thomas scrambled to his feet joining the others in greeting Rebecca.

Bowing slightly, Boromir took Rebecca’s hand kissing it gently as he said in his most courtly manner, “Lady Rebecca, you look most lovely this morning. The color of the gown suits you, fair maiden. I missed your presence last evening, but evidently your time apart from us was spent in worthwhile pursuits.”

Rebecca looked at him in disbelief, wondering who this stranger was, though he had always been most courteous to her. Still, if they were all going to treat her like this she was going to wear pants. Looking more closely however, she noticed the spark of amusement in his eyes and his lips starting to twitch.

“Boromir!” she started to giggle in relief. “It’s just a dress.”

“I know, Lady Rebecca and you do indeed look lovely, but you also looked so scared...”

“I did not!”

“Boromir is right, Rebecca... you looked very nervous at least,” Aragorn grinned at her.

“Nervous maybe, but not scared,” she said firmly.

“Why are you nervous?” Legolas looked at her questioningly. “You look beautiful,” he added with a soft smile.

Rebecca blushed. “Be-because I’ve never worn anything like this before. It’s too fancy. And-and I don’t want to be treated differently because I’m wearing a dress.” She glanced at Thomas who had not spoken, but he only smiled briefly before looking away.

“Well, no promises about that Lady Rebecca,” Aragorn smiled gently, “but we will try and keep in mind that you are still the dirty, ragged girl we all know and love.”

Everyone, including Rebecca, laughed at that and then, much to the hobbits delight, they finally were served breakfast.

0-0-0-0-0

The Fellowship spent most of the day at rest. Some sat talking quietly while others, most notably Frodo, slept much of the day. It had been a long arduous journey filled with danger and all were exhausted and relished the chance to relax. Rebecca found herself pulled into conversations about her home which made her melancholy, so mostly she tried to listen to the others. Thomas had been quiet all day and she assumed that he was thinking about home too though she had noticed him staring at her several times. But he had quickly looked away from her when she smiled at him. Puzzled by that, she mentally shrugged and turned her attention back to Gimli and his description of his home in the Lonely Mountain.

Late in the afternoon Haldir and Brethil approached the company where they were scattered in small groups across the wide lawn.

“Greetings my lords, my lady,” Haldir gave them a small bow as his eyes swept over the group. Murmured greetings and nods were returned as he continued, “I have been asked by Lord Celeborn to escort Thomas and ...” he paused as Aragorn’s eyes narrowed in warning, “Aragorn to the armory. Lady Galadriel also requests that Lady Rebecca visit her this afternoon.”

“Me? Why?” Rebecca squeaked, frightened at the thought of being alone with Galadriel.

“I know not,” Haldir replied gently. “Lady Galadriel did not inform me of her plans, only that she wished to see you. But fear not, Lady Rebecca...” he paused until she lifted her eyes and met his calm ice blue eyes. “My lady has incredible power and wisdom beyond what a mortal may understand. But she also has compassion...” Haldir touched Rebecca’s wrist lightly, “on those around her. You need not fear her.”

Rebecca bowed her head, ashamed to think that Galadriel would harm her after all she had done for her already. “You’re right Haldir. I was just being foolish I guess.” She watched a faint smile flash across Haldir’s face as he shook his head.

“No, not foolish, Lady Rebecca. We often fear what we cannot understand and with time you will gain understanding... though mortals have precious little time in which to do that. Now, if you are ready, Lady Brethil will escort you to Lady Galadriel.”

Nodding, Rebecca smiled at Haldir and moved past him to join Brethil. She followed her towards the large mallorn tree that led to the talan where Celeborn and Galadriel lived. They talked quietly about their day as they ascended the tree. Rebecca told Brethil how the ‘men’ had teased her about the dress which made the elleth laugh. The platform where they had spoken to Celeborn and Galadriel the night before was deserted, but Brethil just crossed it without comment.

“Where are we going?”

Brethil looked down at her in surprise, “To see Lady Galadriel.”

“I know that, but where? I thought it would be here.” Rebecca gestured around them.

“No, my lady asked me to bring you to her sitting room.”

“All right... is that...is that usual?”

Brethil paused in thought before shaking her head briefly, “I know not, Rebecca. Mortals come here so seldom that I do not know if she brings them to her private talan. Certainly elves have been there.”

Rebecca nodded as they climbed several more sets of stairs and she knew she would stay in good shape for walking just from all of the stairs she had to climb. Finally they approached a collection of talans that all seemed to be connected together in some fashion. Although each was larger than her talan, they had the same basic design and feel to it. Brethil led Rebecca to one of the smaller talans and knocked softly on the door. It swung open almost immediately and Galadriel beckoned them in.

“Welcome, Lady Rebecca, Brethil.”

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca followed Brethil through the door. Nervously fiddling with a button on her dress she bowed to Galadriel, “Good afternoon Lady Galadriel,” Rebecca’s eyes met hers briefly before looking around the room. It was similar in size to her whole talan and very simply decorated with a few couches, chairs and pillows. Though there was a desk and some books that quickly caught her attention. She looked back at Galadriel to find the elf watching her with a faint smile.

“You are nervous, child.” It was a statement not a question.

Staring at the floor, Rebecca whispered, “Yes.”

“Why?”

Rebecca shrugged as she struggled to put her feelings into words. “I’m-I’m not really sure. I know you won’t hurt me or anything... but...” she glanced up and saw only compassion in Galadriel’s eyes. “I’ve never known anyone like you... or this place before... so it scares me.” She shrugged again helplessly, “I’m sorry,” she added in a whisper.

“Be at peace, child. You need not be sorry for your feelings,” she said gently though an undercurrent of strength and wisdom flowed through her very voice as she spoke. “This world, Lothlórien, myself are all very different from your home, it does not surprise me that you feel nervous. And I am not offended.”

Rebecca looked up with surprise and relief clearly written on her face.

“Child, I have been around for a very long time and have been with many types of people during those years. It takes much to offend me.” Galadriel smiled briefly.

Sighing, Rebecca relaxed, noticing that it was now becoming a little easier to look at Galadriel.

Galadriel gazed intently at Rebecca for a moment and then nodded as if satisfied with what she saw. “Now, I believe you are able to speak with me without fear.”

Rebecca nodded shyly, “I think so.”

“Good, come and sit, we have much to discuss.” Moving to the couch, Rebecca sank down into the soft cushions where she was joined by Brethil who smiled and patted her arm gently.

“Lady Rebecca I do not know the whole reason you were brought here from your world. Did Gandalf tell you anything? Did he have any ideas?”

Rebecca thought she detected a hint of sorrow in Galadriel as she mentioned Gandalf’s name. “No,” she responded, shaking her head and frowning slightly as she thought, “he said it... it would be revealed in time.”

“Yes it will be. At times I have been given what you would call precise visions of future events, but generally I only receive vague impressions. Like now with you and Thomas. The Valar have called you here for their own purposes and we cannot question that.”

I can, Rebecca thought sadly as images of home flashed through her mind.

Galadriel reached out and softly caressed her cheek. “Be at peace, child. Though I know this must be difficult for you, you must remain strong. The Valar are not cruel and they do have a plan for you. You must trust that.”

Sighing deeply, Rebecca nodded before looking up at Galadriel. “I just wish they’d tell me why I’m here and what I’m supposed to do so I can go home!”

Glancing at Brethil before responding, Galadriel gazed at the girl searchingly before responding. “Child, as I said, I do not know your purpose or your destiny,” Brethil took Rebecca’s hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly, “But...” her voice softened, “what if you never go back home?” Galadriel paused, “What if your destiny is to live out your life in middle earth?” she added gently.

Rebecca just stared at Galadriel for a full minute unblinking as she thought about that, to really not go home. Of course she and Thomas had talked about marrying someone, but... that wasn’t really real, was it? They were just talking weren’t they? Yet, here was this incredibly wise and powerful Elven Queen telling her it was a possibility and... wait... not to see her mom again? Her cousins? She didn’t really care about anyone or anything else. Rebecca blinked and shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back the tears that threatened. “Do you think that will happen to me... to stay here?” she whispered.

“I know not, child. But you need to think about that possibility. You need to prepare yourself if that is your destiny, the path for your life. Do you agree?”

Reluctantly, Rebecca nodded while she still held tightly to Brethil’s hand. “What should I do?”

“I sense in you an empathy for others and great potential to be a healer.”

Rebecca laughed shortly and Galadriel looked at her inquiringly.

“Aragorn teased me once about being a healer.”

“Estel had great insight into people and their character. You would only have time to learn some basic skills here, but it would give you a sense of whether or not it would be something you should continue later.” She paused and her grey eyes became piercing and distant and Rebecca had to look away. “I believe this is extremely important for you. Are you willing to learn, child?” Galadriel gazed at her intently and again Rebecca had to look away, staring instead at the cabinet just beyond the elf.

Frowning slightly she slowly nodded, “I’m willing to try. Will you be teaching me?” She shifted her gaze back to Galadriel.

“No, my healing gifts are different than what you will be learning. Like what I did with your wrist. You will need to learn practical healing skills so I will send you to my head healer, Lord Thalion. I will send Brethil with you to help you.”

“Good, it will be nice to have her with me.” Rebecca turned and smiled at the elleth.

“Now the other thing you need to learn is some skills with weapons...”

“I think Aragorn will teach me now that my wrist is healed,” Rebecca interrupted. Realizing her mistake she quickly apologized, “I’m sorry Lady Galadriel for interrupting you.”

Galadriel’s eyes twinkled briefly in amusement, “It is all right child, the young are often moved by excitement. Why did you say that Estel would teach you?”

“Because I asked him to when he started teaching Thomas. I couldn’t then because of my wrist but he said I could someday. I’m healed now... so I think he would,” she finished uncertainly with a small frown.

“I think if you remind him of that he will teach you to wield a sword of some type. Estel will see the wisdom of you being able to defend yourself.”

“He gave me a knife already after some wolves attacked us,” she shuddered in remembrance.

Galadriel continued, “I also believe you need to learn to use a bow. I know not why. It is just a very strong impression I have. Estel will not agree and he can be rather... stubborn at times.” She smiled fondly. “In any case, I will not ask him or Legolas to teach you, nor will I tell them that you are being trained. I am going to have Haldir teach you, if you are willing to attempt this. I will warn you that it will not be easy.”

“I would love to learn! And I can keep a secret from them,” Rebecca’s eyes sparkled merrily.

“Good.” Galadriel nodded as she arose. “Then you shall start tomorrow. Ask Estel tonight about him teaching you and then Brethil will talk to Lord Thalion and Haldir about when you will work with them.”

Rebecca smiled, eager to have something to do, something to learn, something that would help the others in the Fellowship so that she would no longer be a burden. “Thank you, Lady Galadriel,” she bowed.

“You are welcome child...and be at peace about your future. It is out of your control. Trust that it will work out as it was meant too.” She gazed down at Rebecca with a serene and understanding smile.

“I will try but-but it is hard when...” her voice quavered slightly and then Rebecca looked up at Galadriel, “I’ll try my best,” she said firmly.

Galadriel opened the door as she nodded, “That is all you can do, child. Brethil will take you to re-join your companions now, unless you have any questions.”

Shaking her head, she looked up at the tall elf and smiled, “No, not right now.”

“Then I wish you a good night, child.”

Rebecca bowed before following Brethil back down the stairs.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas trailed after Aragorn and Haldir on the way to the armory. He only halfway listened to their conversation because he was busy looking at all of the activities and buildings they passed. There were workshops where elves were making cloth and another turning the cloth into clothes. Different sizes of woodshops where beautiful furniture of all kinds were being created. Shops for making baskets and pottery shops where plates and dishes were made. Thomas paused in front of that shop and watched the elf for a moment.

“Thomas!”

“Coming, Aragorn,” Thomas ran to catch up.

“What were you doing?”

“Watching the potter. I’ve seen them making pottery in movies, but never in person before...” Thomas started to explain, but stopped at Aragorn’s and Haldir’s confused looks. “Right. You don’t know what movies are.”

They both shook their heads though they exchanged amused glances at Thomas’s enthusiasm.

“Well, it’s sort of like a huge picture... only it moves and people talk...” at their stunned and disbelieving expressions Thomas stopped. “Well, anyway I wanted to watch the potter,” he shrugged and glanced away, hurt that Aragorn didn’t believe him. He started when he felt a hand on his arm and he looked up to see Aragorn’s intense grey eyes gazing at him with a slightly furrowed brow.

“Thomas, I do believe you, that you have seen this ‘movie’ in your world. My reaction was to this whole idea of a moving picture and how it could be done. It is not something I can imagine. The world you come from is so different than here and I think you know that.” Thomas nodded. “But I do believe and trust you, Thomas Morgan.”

Thomas blinked at the use of his last name, surprised that Aragorn even remembered it since he had only told him the one time weeks ago. “Thank you for explaining... I did think you didn’t believe me.”

“I know,” Aragorn smiled faintly. “Now the armory and your new sword await us.” He turned and walked on.

As he moved to follow Aragorn, Thomas glanced at Haldir who was regarding him steadily. He fell in step next to Thomas as they walked. They walked silently for several minutes before Haldir spoke.

“I believe you as well, Thomas.”

Thomas nodded in acknowledgement of his words, but in truth Haldir’s approval meant little to him.

“If you would like to try your hand at pottery it can be arranged,” he offered.

“No, thanks I really just wanted to watch. I think I’ll be busy enough with sword and archery practice.”

“Very well, but if you change your mind let me know.”

Arriving at the armory, Thomas saw that Lord Celeborn was waiting for them and he swallowed nervously. Following Aragorn’s lead, Thomas bowed to the elf-lord, “My lord,” he greeted him respectfully.

“Thomas.” Celeborn nodded in acknowledgement. “Hand me that scimitar so that you may have a proper sword.”

Carefully, Thomas handed over the blade and Celeborn gave it to one of the many elves who worked in the armory. “Destroy that,” he growled, his eyes dark and his expression fierce.

“Come Thomas, I have made arrangements for you to try a variety of swords so that you may find one that suits you.” Celeborn strode off rapidly around the armory heading for a nearby training field and Thomas struggled to keep up with his long strides.

A small table had been set up at the edge of the field and it held four sheathed swords that were similar in appearance, but varied in length. Thomas looked at them closely wondering if length was the only difference or if other factors figured into selecting a sword. But he assumed that someone would tell him and he smiled, excited about having his own sword. He glanced around and saw that Aragorn and Haldir were leaning against a nearby tree, leaving him to deal with the elf-lord on this own.

“I know you have never chosen a sword before, but whose sword did you learn with? Boromir’s?”

“Yes, my lord and Aragorn’s.”

“Aragorn’s?” Celeborn sounded surprised and the elf-lord glanced at Aragorn who shrugged slightly.

“There were no other options,” Aragorn smiled wryly.

Clearly confused, Thomas looked from Celeborn to Aragorn and back again. “What’s wrong? Oh... Legolas mentioned it was a special sword. But Aragorn never had time to tell me why.”

Faint amusement lit the depths of Celeborn’s eyes, “Yes... special is one word to call that sword. I believe Estel will find time to speak with you and Lady Rebecca about the sword and other things in the next day or two.” Celeborn looked pointedly at Aragorn.

“Yes, Daeradar, I will,” Aragorn smiled and nodded.

Turning back to the swords, Celeborn continued, “You know then that each sword has a different weight and ‘feel’.” Thomas nodded. “You need to choose one that best fits you. Try each of these before you decide.”

Thomas stepped forward and picked up the first sword. “It’s so much lighter than Boromir’s or Aragorn’s sword!” he exclaimed.

“It is an elven blade and we make them that way.”

Thomas looked up at Celeborn doubtfully; remembering Boromir saying that a sword must be heavy enough to pierce armor to slay orcs, but then he nodded, elves had a little more experience with this than he did.

“Elves use different materials and methods than men, Young Thomas. We have been killing orcs with these blades for thousands of years.” Celeborn’s voice had grown cold.

Nodding, Thomas slid the sword from its sheath. The blade itself was thinner in width than the others he had held and there were engravings on it near the hilt. He held it loosely as he had been taught and took a few practice swings. While he liked the look of it, it didn’t ‘feel’ right. It was the shortest sword on the table and he realized it was probably a foot shorter than Boromir’s sword. Glancing down the table he saw that the swords were arranged by length, the last one was about the same length as Aragorn’s.

Thomas went down the line slowly, repeating the process he had done with the first sword. After the last sword he paused and glanced back down the table thinking about each sword. The first one he dismissed immediately, the feel was wrong. The same with the last one, it was too long for him. He was torn between the two in the middle so he moved back to them and re-tested them both for longer periods of time, finally settling on one.

“This one,” Thomas declared, looking up at Celeborn momentarily before glancing at Aragorn who nodded in approval. “I like the length... and it just feels right to me.”

“Then it is yours. May it serve you well, Thomas, wherever the Valar may send you. Now, let us test it out. Come along.” Celeborn headed out on to the training field.

Thomas looked at Aragorn with wide eyes, “I can’t spar with him,” he pleaded. Aragorn just shook his head and gestured for Thomas to follow the elf-lord, though he and Haldir also followed.

Celeborn waited for Thomas with an unreadable expression that softened slightly at his hesitant approach.

“Be at peace, young Thomas. I am only going to spar with you a little and in my thousands of years of training I have only accidentally killed a handful of elves.” Celeborn’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Daeradar!” Aragorn exclaimed.

Fortunately, Thomas had caught Celeborn’s small indication of amusement since he was not looking at Celeborn’s intense eyes, but rather of the lower part of his face. Recognizing the comment for what it was - an attempt to relax him, Thomas smiled faintly at the elf-lord. Still, he nervously wiped his sweaty palms on his leggings as he prepared himself to ‘attack’.

This is just great, Thomas thought, he had barely learned the basics and now he had to spar with a thousands year old elf-lord. Thomas grimaced. Determined not to let Aragorn down, he approached his opponent slowly and for a few moments there was the clashing of metal before Thomas’s sword was flipped from his hand. Celeborn stepped back while it was retrieved and they went at it again with the same result. Never once was Thomas able to drive the elf-lord back a single step. He was continually being pushed back and lost his sword within minutes each time, but he continued to try and would not give up.

Finally, Celeborn stopped and sheathed his weapon. “Well done, Thomas. For one with little experience, you do quite well. You have good teachers,” he glanced at Aragorn, “but you are also quick on your feet and you don’t give up. Those things cannot be taught and will serve you well as you continue to train. But you must work hard.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Thomas bowed trying to bite back a grin.

“I must leave you now. Tomorrow when you need a bow, Haldir will supply you with the proper equipment.” Thomas nodded.

Taking his leave of Aragorn and Haldir, Celeborn turned and disappeared into the trees in the direction of the city.

Still flushed from the elf-lord’s praise, Thomas was unaware of the approach of Aragorn and Haldir until he heard Aragorn’s amused voice.

“Come, Thomas,” Aragorn pushed Thomas along in front of him, “do not let his praise go to your head. You still have much to learn.”

Glancing back at him with a grin, Thomas nodded in agreement, “I know, but still that was fun... and it was nice of him to say those things about me.”

They walked slowly back through the workshops as night started to darken the woods. Lanterns were lit giving the area a festive air that was enhanced by the incredible beauty of the elves that worked in each shop. Thomas suddenly realized that he was becoming so used to seeing elves that they no longer stood out as unique or strange.

Haldir departed shortly before they reached the tents with a promise to return in the morning to bring Thomas a bow. They met up with Rebecca as she was returning from seeing Galadriel.

“Thomas! You got a new sword! May I see it?” Rebecca asked eagerly.

While Aragorn watched with a faint smile, Thomas carefully pulled the sword out and showed it to her. As she moved to touch the hilt, Thomas pulled it back out of reach with a frown. “Careful! Here, hold it like this,” he said gruffly. Rebecca looked at him, surprised he would let her hold the sword at all. But she took it gingerly as he directed her.

“It’s not as heavy as you said,” she narrowed her eyes accusingly remembering back to his comment that she couldn’t fight because the sword was too heavy. She looked up as Aragorn unsheathed his sword.

“Try mine,” he said sternly.

Realizing she had unintentionally questioned Thomas’s honor, Rebecca sighed in frustration at the different rules they had in middle earth. Ignoring Aragorn for the moment she looked at Thomas who was watching the interplay between Aragorn and Rebecca.

Thomas wasn’t upset with her and if they had been at home or alone here he would have told her that. But he also knew that Aragorn wouldn’t let it drop, that things were different here and both of them had to change. He didn’t want Rebecca to say something to some stranger that would get her into trouble and he didn’t want to do things that would mark him as different... which is why he was working so hard to say ‘my lord’ instead of ‘sir’ because he knew that here ‘my lord’ was the respectful term.

“I’m sorry Thomas. I didn’t mean to question your honor,” she said quietly. She handed him his sword and he quickly sheathed it.

“It’s all right Rebecca. I know you didn’t mean too,” he smiled. “Yes this sword is much lighter than Boromir’s or Aragorn’s...” Thomas glanced up to see Aragorn dismissing him with his eyes. “It was made by the elves. I think Aragorn wants to talk with you,” he finished softly, reaching out and squeezing her hand gently.

“I’m sure he does,” she muttered as he walked away. She looked up at Aragorn with a heavy sigh prepared to meet his disapproval only to find him regarding her with a small smile.

“That was well done, Rebecca.”

Rebecca looked at him in such confusion that Aragorn laughed quietly. “I meant the apology and the fact that you knew immediately that what you said cast doubt on his honor. You are learning.”

“Very slowly it seems. There is so much to learn. It is so different here and I make so many mistakes.” She sighed again before mumbling under her breath, “Thomas never makes mistakes.”

Aragorn glanced at her questioningly not quite sure he had heard her correctly, “What did you say?”

“Nothing... it doesn’t matter.”

He looked at her searchingly for a moment and then let it go. “Hmmm... yes you do make mistakes, but you are learning, Rebecca. Now, come and sit down over here and tell me how your time went with Lady Galadriel.”

“It went very well. I was nervous, but we talked about that and it helped. She’s nice, Aragorn!”

Aragorn smiled at Rebecca’s enthusiastic endorsement of Lady Galadriel as well as her swift change in mood. “I am glad you liked her. Did she just want to visit with you or did she have something else in mind?”

“No she-she wants me to have some training as a healer.” Rebecca paused briefly, “I don’t quite understand it, but she felt I would need to learn it and I would be good at it. Someone named Thalion is going to train me.”

Aragorn’s eyes widened in surprise, “He is an excellent healer. He learned from Lord Elrond, the greatest healer in middle earth.” He suddenly smiled in remembrance, “I said you would make a good healer.”

“I remember. Do you remember what else you told me that morning?” Rebecca bit her lip nervously as Aragorn narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Yes,” he answered softly, “I told you that someday you could be trained in the use of a weapon.” Aragorn tilted his head as he studied her intently. “Is that still your wish?”

A smile lit up Rebecca’s face as she nodded, “Yes it is Aragorn.”

Aragorn picked up her left hand and closely examined the wrist, hand and fingers. “It is well healed,” he said absently. “Rebecca I will train you because it would be wise for you to have at least some basic knowledge of how to wield a sword. But you know how I feel and I will pay any cost to keep you from being in a position where you would have to fight.” He looked at her closely to make sure that she understood what he was saying.

“I understand, Aragorn. After Moria I understand, but I will feel better with it in my hands.

Aragorn nodded sadly as he stood and pulled Rebecca to her feet, knowing that she really did not know how bad things could get, that there could be far worse things. Aragorn had lived far too long and seen too many evil things to think that even Moria and a Balrog were the worst that could face them on this journey. “Let’s go and eat dinner, Rebecca, I’m sure the others are waiting.”

0-0-0-0-0

As Thomas walked away from Aragorn and Rebecca he veered away from the camp where the rest of the Fellowship was gathered. He knew it would be awhile before they ate because he figured the ‘discussion’ going on behind him would take some time. Smiling slightly he shook his head as he recalled the resigned expression on Rebecca’s face as he walked away.

Hearing the faint sound of water, Thomas followed the noise to a small brook running through the woods bordering the lawn. Finding a comfortable spot Thomas sat down with his legs stretched out before him, leaning back on his hands. His mind drifted back through the day as he stared at the water flowing over and around the rocks scattered across the brook.

Picking out a new sword and sparring with Lord Celeborn had been an interesting experience. Listening to his friends talk about their homes was fun, but Thomas found his thoughts kept wandering to Rebecca. How was she doing right now with Aragorn. Wondering what Galadriel had wanted to talk with her about. How pretty she looked in her new dress. That last thought made Thomas pause. Why was he thinking about how pretty she looked? She was just his friend, so what did it matter how pretty she looked.

Determined not to think about Rebecca anymore Thomas turned his thoughts toward home which he hadn’t allowed himself to do earlier in the day with everyone around. Images of his mom, younger brother, even his house and bedroom all quickly flashed through his mind. Thomas took deep breaths and used his sleeve to wipe tears away as the pictures faded. He wondered if he would ever see them again and if they knew where he was. He questioned whether he would ever go home and if he even wanted to. He shook his head slowly as he pondered that last thought. If it wasn’t for his mom and brother, he would like to stay here in middle earth. Even with all the dangers, the orcs and balrogs... and whatever else he might face in the days ahead. There were men... well people here, like Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas that he could respect and trust... and who were willing to extend that back to him. There were no men like that at home. Then there were all of the other people he had met – elves, hobbits, dwarves. They were all fascinating and had such diverse cultures and yet they all seemed to have such inner strength and kindness. He knew he might change his mind after this trip, but somehow it felt like this place suited him.

Thomas glanced around, suddenly realizing that it was now pitch black and the only light was the dim glow from the moonlight reflecting off the water. He wondered how much time had gone by since he had left Aragorn and Rebecca and he hoped the hobbits hadn’t eaten all of the food. “Damn, I hope I can find my way back,” he muttered as he rose to his feet.

“I came to fetch you.”

Thomas spun around. “Legolas?” he asked uncertainly.

“Yes, it’s me,” he sounded amused

“How did you know where I was?”

“I followed your trail.”

“In the dark?!”

Legolas laughed merrily, “Yes, I am an elf, remember? Now, we must go, everyone has been quite concerned about you.” He turned to leave.

“Oh, I-I was thinking and lost track of time.” Thomas followed Legolas carefully through the woods until they reached the lawn near the tent.

Legolas stopped and looked at Thomas intently, “It is easy to lose track of time, especially in a place like Lothlórien. But you are not used to being in the woods, knowing how to track or follow a trail. Until you learn those skills, you could get lost very easily, especially after dark. I think it would be wise for you to stay close to the tent area unless you are with Aragorn, Boromir or myself. At least until you know your way around better, which you will very shortly.”

Thomas nodded while staring at the ground, embarrassed both that he had caused the others to worry and that he was being scolded, however gently, by Legolas, someone he greatly respected.

“I would teach you those skills as we have time, Thomas, if you would like to learn,” he offered.

Thomas jerked his head up and met Legolas’s now sparkling eyes, “Would you really? I would like to learn to do those things,” he exclaimed.

“Good then we shall start tomorrow. Now let’s go and see if the hobbits have left you any supper.”

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Elvish Translations:

Daeradar – Grandfather

Daernaneth – Grandmother

mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 12 - Days of Training

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Notes: Because of time constraints and my limited elvish language skills (I can read some but writing it correctly is a whole different thing!) I have decided to show conversations that take place in 'Elvish' by placing them in italics. That way I can show private conversations between any of the characters. I will still have a few elvish words sprinkled in here and there throughout the story and I will continue to translate those at the end of the chapter. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon, Aragorn sees Celeborn and Galadriel as his grandparents and they see him as their grandson. Not only is he betrothed to their granddaughter but he was raised in Rivendell by their son-in-law.

Chapter 12 – Lothlórien – Days of Training

A slight noise pulled Aragorn from sleep. Carefully, he lifted his head and looked around to find the source of the disturbance. His eyes fell on Legolas, who was also awake, and the elf pointed with his chin out the entrance of the tent. Turning, Aragorn saw Frodo walking slowly away with his hands in his pockets and his head down as if in deep thought. Making a quick decision, Aragorn pulled on his boots and with a last glance at Legolas he slipped out of the tent.

Deciding to keep his distance, Aragorn silently trailed the hobbit as he meandered aimlessly through the woods. It was obvious Frodo had a lot on his mind as the ranger would occasionally hear a heavy sigh or some low muttering coming from the hobbit. Eventually though Frodo plopped down on the ground next to a tree leaning back against it with his eyes closed.

Keeping himself hidden, Aragorn crouched down a short distance away to keep watch over the hobbit. He waited patiently as he saw Frodo slip into sleep; the hobbit’s breathing becoming slow and steady. Suddenly, Frodo shot straight up, eyes wide, panting heavily, his hand clutching at the ring around his neck. Moving slowly so as not to further startle him, Aragorn stepped from his hiding place calling in a low voice, “Frodo, what is wrong?”

Frodo jumped to his feet looking around wildly before his eyes landed on Aragorn. While he still appeared ready to bolt, the hobbit took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. “What-what are you doing here, Aragorn? How did you know where I was?”

“I followed you. You seemed distracted and I was worried,” Aragorn replied gazing at Frodo with a frown. “What just happened? Why are you frightened?” he asked softly.

“You were worried for me in Lothlórien?” Frodo raised a skeptical eyebrow. “What could happen here?”

“You could get lost,” Aragorn retorted. “You are avoiding my question Master Hobbit! What happened?”

“It-it was nothing, Aragorn,” Frodo looked away, still clutching the ring. “Just-just a bad dream is all.”

“If you share it, it will not have a hold on you. You can let it go,” Aragorn crouched down in front of the hobbit so he could look him in the eye.

Grimacing, Frodo nodded, “It was just… I saw orcs and horrible things… but then… I saw…” he paused.

“Go on.”

“I saw the eye, Aragorn,” he whispered. “It was horrible. Glowing with fire… and it could see me…” Frodo screwed his eyes shut tightly to try and block the images from his mind.

“Oh Frodo,” Aragorn breathed softly. “I am sorry. I would that I could take your pain,” he said compassionately.

“I know you would,” the hobbit sighed and looked at his friend sadly. “But I have to bear it alone… though I admit that telling you of my dream has eased me somewhat.”

“Good,” Aragorn paused as he carefully considered his next words. “Frodo, though none of your friends can spare you the pain the ring causes you; we can help ease your burden if you will let us. You are not as alone as you feel… we will listen or do what we can to help you. But you have to tell us what you need or want.”

Frodo nodded, “I know, I know. Sam is always telling me the same thing.” He shrugged and smiled wanly, “I forget though because sometimes all I can see is the ring.”

“It is easy to do that… I will try and remind you otherwise occasionally.” Aragorn grinned as the hobbit’s stomach let out a loud growl. “Time for breakfast, is it?” he raised an eyebrow in question.

“You should know by now that it’s always time for a hobbit to eat!” Frodo retorted with a grin of his own.

“Lead the way then since I do not want to be trampled as we near the tent and the smell of food overcomes your sense of dignity.” Aragorn’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched Frodo since he was pretty sure the hobbit had no idea in which direction the camp was located.

Frodo looked around carefully, narrowing his eyes and chewing his lip in thought before setting out unerringly towards the camp. He had taken several steps before Aragorn hastily fell into step with him, a surprised look on his face.

The hobbit glanced up at the ranger with a sly smile, “Hobbits don’t get lost easily. You should know better,” he chided softly. “I have a little more experience in the woods than Thomas.”

Aragorn smiled wryly, “You just seemed so distracted this morning.”

Frodo just smiled and shook his head as they continued walking back to camp.

The sun wasn’t even up when Rebecca awoke. She couldn’t believe she was awake so early and she lay in bed for a few minutes thinking and planning for the day ahead. Aragorn and Boromir were going to work with her, Thomas, and the hobbits on sword fighting skills right after breakfast, though first she was going to get her own sword, a prospect that excited her immensely. Then she was going to meet with the healer, Lord Thalion, and start that training. Rebecca didn’t know if she would really be able to help sick or wounded people and yet it sounded sort of interesting, so all she could do was try. Later in the afternoon Haldir was to start teaching her archery. Rebecca frowned slightly, he made her nervous. Though always polite and proper, he intimidated her and she wondered if she would be too nervous to learn from him and she wished that Legolas was teaching her instead.

Eager to start her day, Rebecca got up and went to the cabinet that contained the leggings and tunics. She had several choices in shades of grey, brown and green. Choosing dark green leggings, a pale green shirt and a darker green tunic she quickly dressed, fumbling briefly with the unfamiliar buttons and ties. The cabinet also contained soft new boots which she gratefully slipped on.

Ready to go, Rebecca paused outside her door wondering what to do. She now knew how to get down to where the others were camped, but she didn’t want to worry Brethil. Finally, she quietly approached the elleth’s talan and timidly knocked.

“Come in, Rebecca!”

Startled, she opened the door to find Brethil gracefully rising from a couch. Rebecca looked at her in amazement, “How did you know… oh, elvish hearing. I’m a mortal, you heard the door on my talan open, I walk noisily and things like that,” she smiled at her friend.

Brethil laughed, “Yes to all of those. You have heard those comments before?” She looked at her questioningly.

“Oh yes,” she said dryly. “Though not said quite that way. Legolas,” Rebecca smiled, “is much kinder and was usually teasing me at the time.” She blushed faintly in remembrance.

“He appears to be a merry elf. I had not met him until now, for I have never left Lothlórien.”

“Never? As old as you are? Well, at least its safe here… not like where I’ve been,” Rebecca frowned. “Anyway I wanted to tell you that I was ready to go… but you don’t have to come if you aren’t ready. I know how to get there.”

“Then go and I shall join you later this morning to take you to the healing quarters,” Brethil smiled. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

“All right.” Rebecca ran out the door and practically skipped down the steps and hurried toward the tent. She was disappointed because it was quiet and everyone appeared to be asleep and she wondered what time it was. To her relief, she noticed Boromir and Legolas sitting off to one side talking quietly. They looked up at her approach.

“Lady Rebecca, what are you doing out of bed at this hour,” Boromir teased quietly. “Are you perhaps ill?”

“Whatever do you mean Lord Boromir? I have always loved mornings,” Rebecca responded, her eyes sparkling.

“Is that so?” tilting his head he smiled as he continued, “I seem to remember otherwise. There was the time that you…”

“All right, you win,” Rebecca laughed as she interrupted him. “I’m just excited, I guess, so I woke up early.” She sat down on a log next to Legolas and across from Boromir.

They sat quietly for a few moments lost in their own thoughts and enjoying the fresh morning air. Eventually Rebecca picked up a fallen tree branch and was idly poking it in the grass and twirling it around, as she hummed quietly. When she looked up she saw two pairs of amused eyes watching her.

“Now what’s wrong?” she asked puzzled.

“Nothing, Lady Rebecca,” Legolas smiled faintly. “I have just never seen you quite this…” he paused as if searching for the right word and glanced at Boromir for help, but he just shook his head, “quite this restless before.”

Laughing, Rebecca shook her head. “I told you I was excited Legolas! I can’t help myself! Honestly I always get this way before I start something new – like going to school. I get up early…” she smiled at Boromir. “I can’t sit still.”

“What exactly has you so excited Lady Rebecca?” Legolas gazed at her intently.

“Because I get to do things today! Learn something new and different,” she shrugged. “I think it will be fun.”

Boromir laughed shortly. “Lady Rebecca learning to use a sword is not ‘fun’, it is hard work.”

“I know that, Boromir.” Her eyes flashed at him angrily, hurt by his laughter. “But hard work can be fun. I’m also going to start with the healer today and that will be hard too. But it will still be ‘fun’ for me. I like to learn new things.” Rebecca stared at the ground for a moment before she looked up to find that Boromir was gazing at her with a look of sorrow.

“Forgive me, Lady Rebecca, for I can see that I have offended you and that was not my intent,” Boromir’s voice was soft and low as he bowed slightly. “My intent was, I think, to try and prepare you for the reality of learning to wield a sword. I thought that perhaps you were not taking it seriously, but I was mistaken.”

Rebecca sighed, “Of course I forgive you, Boromir. I really do take this seriously because I know this is a dangerous place,” she looked away for a moment. “Moria taught me that,” she added quietly.

Boromir looked at Legolas briefly and then back to Rebecca. “Lady Rebecca, I told you it is not the custom of my people to train our women to wield weapons…”

“She needs to be able to defend herself,” Legolas broke in quietly. “She is not safely inside a walled city like Minas Tirith.”

“I know Legolas, let me finish.” Boromir shot him an irritated glare. “But, as Legolas says, most of our women stay close to home or in Minas Tirith. They are not out traveling like you have had to do. I have been forced to change my mind… you do need to be trained.” He sighed and gave Rebecca a sad smile. “But I wish the need were not there and that you could come and visit my city in a time of peace and safety.”

“That would be nice… maybe we can make it there without any problems?” she glanced from Legolas to Boromir hopefully.

“It is always possible, Lady Rebecca, but we have many hundreds of miles to travel,” Legolas told her gently.

“Well, then you better do a good job of teaching me, Boromir!” she grinned suddenly. “I might need to use my sword to protect you two!”

Legolas and Boromir both laughed though the looks the two exchanged spoke of a promise to protect Rebecca at all costs should the need arise.

“Frodo! Where’s Mr. Frodo?” Sam’s alarmed voice was heard coming from the tent and he came barreling out the door with a frantic look on his face.

“Peace, Sam,” Legolas said soothingly. “He went for a walk a couple of hours ago.”

“Alone?!” Sam seemed ready to tear off into the woods to look for his master.

“No, Aragorn followed him. I am sure he is quite safe,” Legolas smiled at the hobbit.

Groaning, Sam sat down on the log muttering, “He shouldn’t have left without me. I’d gone with him.”

Rebecca leaned over and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

Thomas and Gimli emerged from the tent, followed closely by Merry and Pippin.

“It’s about time you got up! I’ve been up for hours!” Rebecca called cheerfully.

“Why?” Gimli grunted.

“There’s lots to do today! I want to eat so we can get started.”

“We have to wait for Aragorn,” Thomas pointed out.

“Oh, that’s true but we can still eat.”

“I’m all for eating now,” Pippin chimed in.

“Me too,” Merry nodded.

“Should we not wait for the others?” Boromir looked from Rebecca to Merry and Pippin who all nodded reluctantly. Rebecca sat back with a sigh and picked up her branch and started poking the ground again. She looked up as Legolas suddenly stood and said,

“Come Gimli. I would show you the sights of Lothlórien.” Surprised, Gimli got to his feet and followed after the elf.

“That’s interesting,” Thomas murmured quietly to Rebecca as they sat staring after them.

She nodded thoughtfully, “Something changed after Gimli said those nice things about Lady Galadriel. I’m just glad they aren’t fighting all the time.” Rebecca grinned.

“Me too,” he smiled and then happened to look up just as Aragorn and Frodo entered the clearing. The ranger caught his eye and nodded slightly with a smile.

“I guess I will not be catching you off guard this morning, Thomas!”

“Guess not. I’m getting really good at looking in the right direction at exactly the right time to see you coming,” he laughed.

“Mr. Frodo! Why didn’t you take me with you?” Sam rushed over and grabbed Frodo’s hand, a look of concern on his face.

“I’m fine, Sam. Aragorn was with me,” Frodo spoke softly as he smiled at his friend.

“Let’s eat!” Pippin and Rebecca said at the same time and then broke into laughter as they looked at each other.

Aragorn looked from one to the other in puzzlement. “Pippin you are always hungry, but Rebecca…” he glanced at Boromir who just shrugged with an amused sparkle in his eye. He looked back at Rebecca thoughtfully, “you seem… excited this morning.”

Groaning, Rebecca buried her head in her hands for a moment before looking up at Aragorn. “Can we please just eat so I can go and start doing all the things I’m going to do today?”

A look of understanding crossed Aragorn’s face as he glanced back at Boromir who nodded with a wry smile.

“I have been waiting for a long time already,” she complained.

“Then by all means, go and eat,” Aragorn’s lips twitched in amusement as she scurried off with the hobbits and Thomas. Boromir joined him and they slowly followed. “Has she been like this all morning?” he asked with a laugh.

“Yes… and I was starting to despair of your return! She said she always gets excited when she starts new things, school and such…” Boromir shrugged.

“Hmmm… well it does surprise me. I imagine that tomorrow morning it will be a little different,” Aragorn said with a grin.

“Sore muscles and blisters tend to have that effect!”

0-0-0-0-0

After breakfast Boromir took the hobbits and Thomas to a training field while Aragorn took Rebecca to the armory to select a sword. Rebecca was as fascinated as Thomas had been with all of the shops they passed and it reminded her to ask Aragorn the question that had been nagging her for some time.

“Aragorn…” she hesitated because he had done so much for her already.

“Hmm…?” he looked down at her questioningly.

Taking a deep breath she started again. “Aragorn, I was wondering if-if I could have some money.” Rebecca bit her lip nervously with a worried frown. “I-I don’t know when I could ever pay you back or anything…”

Aragorn halted in surprise, “Money. Why do you need money Rebecca?” He looked at her in confusion.

“I-I wanted to buy things like a-a comb and soap before we left, Aragorn. I guess the elves are giving me the clothes, but I-I need the other things too,” she whispered. “I don’t have any money and I hate to ask because you’ve done so much already…” her voice trailed off as she stared at the ground.

“Oh, Rebecca,” Aragorn stepped forward and embraced her briefly. “Truly I have only done what is proper and I have been glad to do it for you and Thomas. As for money, I would give you some, but the elves will not take if from us.” He shrugged at her questioning look. “It is their way. If you need or want something, ask Brethil and she will obtain it for you. Everything in that talan is for your use and you may take it with you.”

Rebecca just shook her head in amazement, “The elves are very generous people.”

“Indeed,” Aragorn smiled. “Rebecca I did not even think about things like combs and such that you might need. If we come to a human settlement I will be sure you have money to purchase what you need.” He paused and looked at her intently for a moment. “Rebecca, I may not have made this clear to you, but since neither you nor Thomas has family here, I have assumed responsibility for you both - my wards for the time you are here. In all that that entails – to provide for you, to protect you, to teach you. I take that responsibility very seriously. So do not be afraid to ask for something you need, and I would never expect you to pay me back for anything.”

Rebecca swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. “Thank you, Aragorn,” she finally whispered.

Aragorn just smiled gently and started on towards the armory. Rebecca lagged slightly behind, staggered by his words. Of course he had been caring for her since their arrival, but she had assumed he saw it as just part of his duty as leader of the Fellowship that would end when they reached Minas Tirith. All of the others had been kind as well after she and Thomas had been thrust into their lives. But Aragorn was different. He had talked to her and Thomas last night and had told them about his heritage and destiny. How and why he had been raised with elves, how his father had been killed when he was very young… just like me and Thomas, Rebecca remembered sadly. Celeborn and Galadriel were his foster grandparents. Most importantly, they learned that he was the rightful King of Gondor. That he was a real true King. A King has made me his ward… his responsibility, she shook her head in amazement. She wondered if that makes her a princess and she smiled inwardly just as they stopped outside the armory.

“Wait here for a moment, Rebecca.”

“Yes, my king.”

“Rebecca,” Aragorn growled, though he threw an amused glance over his shoulder as he entered the door.

Rebecca laughed and looked around curiously at the elves as they worked. She didn’t know what all of them were doing but it appeared that besides swords, arrowheads and spear tips were being forged. Wanting to have a closer look she started to walk over then sighed and stopped, remembering Aragorn’s instruction to wait.

He soon returned with four fairly short swords and beckoned Rebecca to follow him. They walked a short distance and he set the swords down on the grass.

“These are all short,” Rebecca frowned as she looked them over.

Nodding, Aragorn picked one up. “I think, though that for your size one of these will work well.” He shrugged, “If not, there are others.”

He handed her the sword and showed her how to grip the sword as she was testing it for weight and feel. “Now take it out of the sheath.”

She carefully did so and marveled at its beauty.

“Swing it around a few times to test the balance,” Aragorn directed.

Rebecca did so, liking the feel of the weapon in her hand and the sense of power it gave her.

“How does it feel?”

“Nice… I like it… but then I’ve never held one my size before so it’s hard to tell.”

Aragorn nodded, pleased by her response, “Try another then.”

Rebecca worked her way through the swords. Each sword felt similar to her and finally she chose the first one she had held. “I like this one the best, Aragorn… they are all so close… this was the first so…” she smiled sheepishly.

“If you are satisfied with you choice then take it. I will return these to the armory and we will join the others.”

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas was sweating. Boromir had shown him a few defensive moves and now he was practicing them over and over. The moves had to become instinctive.

“Damn!” he swore loudly as Boromir’s sword snaked in and banged against his ribs.

“Again,” Boromir ordered curtly.

Nodding, Thomas took his stance and watched Boromir warily. That was the third time his ribs had been hit already and he knew he wouldn’t be able to move tomorrow.

“Focus, Thomas!” Boromir barked as his sword almost hit him again.

“Yes sir.” Thomas narrowed his eyes and he moved quickly away as Boromir lunged to his left. He swung his sword across his body just in time to deflect Boromir’s thrust.

“Well done.” Boromir encouraged him as he circled around for another ‘attack.’

Thomas could hear the hobbits practicing behind him and knew the woods were close on his right side. He didn’t want to get trapped by either and he tried to move left. Boromir wouldn’t allow it and he kept pushing him to the right. It didn’t take long and Thomas was trapped against the trees. Desperately he looked for a way to escape since Boromir had made the trees a boundary. He kept half his mind on Boromir while blocking his blows and with the other half he sought a way out of his predicament. Deciding that in a real battle there would be no boundaries; Thomas took a deep breath and stepped back into the woods. He stopped, panting, his sword still in a defensive position as he watched Boromir closely.

“You’re out of bounds,” Boromir observed. “Are you surrendering?” He raised an eyebrow in question.

Thomas’s eyes opened wide as he shook his head vehemently. “No! I just decided that a real battle doesn’t have boundaries. So I thought I could lead you into the woods. Maybe I would have an advantage there.” He shrugged, “But I will never surrender,” he stated firmly.

Boromir gazed at him thoughtfully. “You might someday do quite well in the woods. First though, you have to learn to use your sword well.” His voice became hard, “That is why I set the boundary, Thomas, to protect you. I also expect you to obey me.”

Thomas bowed slightly, “Yes, my lord.”

Boromir scrubbed his face roughly as if frustrated. “Thomas,” he growled, “I am not your lord.”

Confused, Thomas just stared at him for a moment. “I-I thought that was the respectful term, Boromir. In my world we say ‘sir’ but I though here people said ‘my lord’ to… to… older people and… people in authority like you.” Thomas glanced away wondering what he had done wrong. He looked back uncertainly as Boromir approached with a small smile.

“You have your sword pointed at me, Thomas.”

Thomas grinned suddenly, “And you my lord are out of bounds!” he darted around a tree and back into the clearing.

Chasing after him, Boromir quickly had Thomas on the defensive once more and within moments had flipped Thomas’s sword from his hand and slapped his upper leg hard with the flat side of his sword.

Thomas leaned over gasping for breath and looked up at Boromir cautiously, trying to gage his mood.

“I think you need a rest Thomas. Go sit for a while.”

Thomas opened his mouth in protest but a stern glare silenced him. “Yes my… I will.” Thomas sat and watched glumly as Boromir worked with the hobbits. He wasn’t sure if Boromir was truly upset with him or if it had all been an act to try and rattle him or a combination of both. He sighed and slumped back against the tree, though he did watch the others closely trying to learn from their example. Tired of sitting he got to his feet and started practicing the moves Boromir had shown him earlier. He closed his eyes in concentration as he went through the various moves. Thomas froze when his sword hit metal and his eyes popped open and rested on Boromir.

“I thought you were resting.”

“I did… I felt like I had enough so I decided to practice some more.” Thomas shrugged as he looked at Boromir.

“Good, I do not want you to stiffen up. Your defensive work is coming along fine. You know the movements, now it just takes the long hard work of practicing it over and over. You really need to work on attacking though. Aragorn and I will be spending more of our time teaching you those skills. Now, two things. First of all,” Boromir grinned suddenly, “You did a good job of not letting your guard down earlier. I could not trick you. While I did set that boundary, you are correct; there are no boundaries in war, so it was well done.” Boromir shook his head, “Though I must confess that I was frustrated and a little angry.”

“I thought you were and I wasn’t sure why. What I had done wrong.”

Clearing his throat, Boromir gazed at him intently, “Because you are young and have no experience. Yet you beat me.”

“I didn’t beat you! You caught me and took away my sword!”

“You beat me the moment you stepped out of bounds and changed the rules. You beat me by using your head, Thomas and not your sword. You beat me by not getting rattled.” Boromir smiled at Thomas’s look of understanding. “Both are important, Thomas, a good sword arm and a good mind.”

Thomas nodded slowly and then smiled.

“Secondly, you are correct. ‘My lord’ is the respectful term for older people and those in positions of authority. While there may be times in Minas Tirith where you will need to call me that, I consider you a younger brother. As such there is no need of such titles between us.” Boromir clasped Thomas’s shoulder, “However, younger brothers need to obey their older brothers at all times!” he said with a laugh.

A look of pain flashed across Thomas’s face before he joined Boromir in his laughter. “I will remember that, Boromir!”

“Good, now let’s return to our practice.”

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn and Rebecca stopped at the edge of the training field and watched the others for a moment. Deciding that the hobbits might need some guidance, Aragorn led Rebecca to that side of the field, though he studied Thomas intently as they passed and thought that he was doing better and that the new sword suited him well.

“Wait here,” Aragorn strode over to speak with the hobbits briefly before quickly returning. He gazed down at her excited face and with a small inward sigh he set to work teaching her the basics. The proper grip, the correct stance, how to move without tripping and basic defensive moves she could use. After about an hour, Aragorn called a halt. “That is enough for the day, Rebecca.”

“But we didn’t even… spar,” she protested.

“No we did not,” Aragorn shook his head with a slight frown. “You will not for several days. Not until I deem you ready.”

“Oh, all right,” Rebecca responded, clearly disappointed.

“I know you cannot feel it now, but your arm and shoulder will be sore. That is a light sword, but you body is unaccustomed to the weight. You should probably take a hot bath later to relax your muscles. Thomas, you too.” Aragorn glanced over at Thomas where he stood with Boromir and the hobbits. Rebecca followed his gaze and was suddenly embarrassed as she hadn’t realized they had been watching her.

“I intend to take a long bath. Boromir has worn me out!” Thomas grinned and ducked away when Boromir tried to cuff him on the head.

“Good, you need the practice,” Aragorn walked over with a smile. “You seemed to be doing well.”

The three started to discuss Thomas’s progress while Rebecca waited lost in thought. She was thinking about the healing lessons and then the archery lessons and knowing she would be with people she didn’t know. Though Brethil would be there for the healing lessons and she was coming too really like her and enjoyed being with her. She started when a small hand slipped into hers.

“You’re awfully quiet!”

“I’m just thinking, Pip…” she smiled down at him and Merry, “about all the things I’m doing today.” She noticed the three men were still talking. “What are you two doing the rest of the day?”

“Nothing!” Merry grinned. “Eating, talking, and sleeping. Things like that.”

“Mostly eating I hope,” Pippin laughed.

Rebecca shook her head fondly, “Well, it sounds like fun, but I’m glad I get to learn some healing skills. Though I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it,” she frowned slightly.

“If Lady Galadriel and Aragorn said you would be, then you will be,” Merry said confidently.

“Thanks.”

“Lady Rebecca, master hobbits, let’s go,” Aragorn called suddenly.

As they returned to camp, Rebecca paid strict attention to the path so she could find her way next time and wouldn’t have to wait for the others.

Haldir was waiting in the camp when they returned. He turned his intense gaze on Rebecca for a moment, “Lady Rebecca,” he greeted her with a slight bow.

“Good morning, Haldir,” she smiled nervously and glanced quickly away.

Haldir turned to the rest of the Fellowship, “Greetings, my lords. Thomas I have brought you a bow that should suit your needs,” he motioned to a bow and quiver of arrows leaning against a tree.

Thomas’s eyes lit up and he hurried over to examine the weapon. Aragorn, Boromir and the hobbits followed leaving Rebecca alone with Haldir.

He stepped closer to her, “Are you ready to learn to use a bow, Lady Rebecca?” he inquired.

“I am willing to try,” she answered quietly, glancing quickly at the others to make sure that they could not be overheard. “Lady Galadriel thinks it is important.” She shrugged and smiled nervously, “I hope you are a patient teacher!” she whispered.

Amusement flashed in Haldir’s eyes briefly, “I will endeavor to be so Lady Rebecca,” he bowed and walked away.

Rebecca decided it was time for her to leave for her healing lessons and so with a quick wave at the others she headed to her talan.

0-0-0-0-0

Brethil and Rebecca strolled through the elven city toward the healing quarters. Rebecca showed the elleth the blisters on her palm from her first sword practice.

“Do they hurt badly?” she asked in concern, taking Rebecca’s hand and peering at it closely.

“No,” she shook her head with a smile. “This is nothing, you should see Thomas’s hand!”

“He should see Lord Thalion. I am sure he could do something.”

“Aragorn put some salve on his hand and wrapped it. He’s a good healer… as I well know.”

Brethil laughed softly, “I had forgotten who you travel with, I am sure Lord Elrond trained him well.”

Rebecca nodded silently.

As they arrived at their destination, Brethil stopped and placed her hand on Rebecca’s arm, gently holding her back. “Rebecca, Lord Thalion is an excellent healer.” She paused and her brow furrowed in thought, “However sometimes he may seem a little… impatient. I do not say this to frighten you,” she hastened to add at the look on Rebecca’s face. The elleth smiled reassuringly, “I just want you to be prepared, and remember his only concern is his patients.”

Nodding, Rebecca followed Brethil into the building, suddenly worried about these lessons she was going to be doing. The room they entered was an office with a desk and chairs to the left of the door. Shelves of books covered the walls behind the desk and cabinets lined the wall to the right. Two doors stood open at the far side of the office. A dark-haired elf sat at the desk writing as they entered and Rebecca looked at him in surprise, she had assumed elves only had gold or silver colored hair.

Brethil and Rebecca stood at the door waiting for Thalion to acknowledge them. After several minutes Rebecca sighed softly and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

“I will be finished sooner if your fidgeting does not interrupt my concentration, Lady Rebecca,” Thalion said sternly not looking up from his work.

Rebecca stared at him wide-eyed and then glanced at Brethil, “Apologize,” she mouthed.

“I’m sorry, Lord Thalion,” she bowed slightly. Silence was his only response. Rebecca stood frozen as the minutes ticked by. Finally, Thalion put down his pen and looked up and again Rebecca was shocked as she looked at him, his eyes looked like Aragorn’s. Thalion had the typical Noldor elven grey eyes and while they were similar to Aragorn’s, right now they lacked the kindness that often filled the ranger’s. Thalion looked her over from head to toe while Rebecca nervously bit her lip trying not to move or look away from his scrutiny. Finally, he stood and moved from behind his desk, “Lady Galadriel has asked me to teach you, Lady Rebecca,” he said without preamble. “I shall endeavor to do my best. However you appear quite young. May I inquire as to your age?”

“I-I am 16, Lord Thalion.”

“It is as I thought,” he sighed. “Well, I shall do what I can. Come along.” He turned and walked out the door to the right.

Mouth slightly agape, Rebecca glanced at Brethil who grabbed her hand, leading her quickly out the door. The room they entered contained several tables and many shelves filled with jars covered the walls. There were also several cabinets and another door.

“This is our supply room. These jars contain all of the healing herbs that we use. The cabinets contain bandages and bowls for mixing the herbs.” Rebecca looked around in awe and walked to a shelf noticing the strange lettering on the jar. Timidly she traced the letters with her finger.

“This is elvish, isn’t it?” she asked in dismay.

“Of course it is,” Thalion snapped. “You shall have to learn the names.”

Brethil spoke for the first time. “That is why Lady Galadriel sent me, Lady Rebecca. She knew you would need my help with this.” Rebecca smiled gratefully at her friend.

“Lady Rebecca, we will spend most of our time here learning the various herbs and their uses. How to bandage wounds and so forth. You will only be here a short time, so I will only be able to teach you some very basic skills.”

Rebecca nodded.

“I do want to show you the rest of the healing rooms however.” Thalion led them through a series of small private rooms with single beds and several large rooms with many beds.

“Excuse me, Lord Thalion, may I ask a question?”

“Of course, I expect you to ask questions at any time, Lady Rebecca,” he replied curtly.

With an inward sigh, Rebecca asked, “Why do you have these large rooms with so many beds? I thought elves never got sick.”

“We do not. However, we have fought in many battles and dealt with many wounded at times in our long history,” his voice dropped off.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lord Thalion,” Rebecca said softly.

Thalion nodded abruptly and led the way back to the supply room. “Now, I know it is not always possible when you are out traveling, but your hands should be as clean as possible when dealing with the sick or injured. Your hands may look clean…” he reached out and took Rebecca’s hands casually turning them over to inspect them. “What has happened to your hand?” he asked gently. His whole demeanor changed in an instant to one of care and concern.

Surprised, it took Rebecca a moment to answer. “I am learning to use a sword,” she shrugged, “and that happened this morning. It doesn’t hurt.”

Thalion nodded absently as he guided her gently to a stool and made her sit down. “Still it needs to be tended or you will not be able to hold your sword tomorrow.” He quickly selected a jar of herbs and measured a small amount into a bowl where he expertly ground it into a fine powder. Next, he added a few drops of water and stirred until it became a thick paste. “Give me your hand, Lady Rebecca,” Thalion said softly.

Though thoroughly stunned at the change in the elf, Rebecca watched intently as he gently applied the healing paste to her palm. The medicine stung and she smiled when she felt Brethil place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“This will bring healing to the blisters very quickly and you should have no problems wielding your sword tomorrow.” Thalion took a length of bandaging material and tied it around her hand. “How does that feel?” he inquired with a smile.

“Fine… very soothing.”

“Good,” he nodded, “you may take the bandage off before sleeping tonight.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Now, what did you observe?” Thalion had switched back to his teacher mode.

Rebecca narrowed her eyes in thought before speaking. “You used… I can’t say the word my lord but I know which jar it is…”

“How much did I use?” he asked sharply.

“One and 1/4 of those spoons and then you ground it into a really fine… powder. You added four… no five drops of water and stirred it to make the paste.”

“What would that relationship be?”

“One drop of water to each 1/4 spoon of the herb.”

“I am pleased to learn that at least you are observant. It is an important skill for a healer. Now, let us continue…”

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn watched with amusement as Legolas fondled Thomas’s new bow. He had never seen his friend so envious, though the elf covered it well.

“This is a beautiful bow,” Legolas commented as he handed it back to Thomas.

“Is it as good as yours?”

Legolas hesitated briefly, “The Galadhrim are acknowledged as the best bow makers in Middle Earth, though mine suits me perfectly well.”

Thomas looked from Legolas to the bow and back again. “The best?” he asked incredulously. “This is better than yours?” he asked with a sly smile. Aragorn coughed suddenly and found something on his boot that needed his immediate attention.

Legolas glared in Aragorn’s direction. “As I said, mine suits me well. It was made especially for me and has become a part of me. It is as more the skill of the archer than it is the bow.”

“I see. Well, I will never be able to match your skill, you have too many years head start,” Thomas grinned. “So I need a good bow.”

“Indeed. Let’s start working on your skill.” Legolas turned and strode towards one of the archery fields, followed quickly by Thomas.

“I think I’ll tag along,” Gimli called and slowly trailed after them.

Aragorn chuckled loudly as they moved away.

“I can hear you Son of Arathorn,” Legolas called back, irritation clear in his voice.

“I know you can mellon nín,” Aragorn laughed.

Thomas wondered how irritated Legolas truly was and if it would affect how he treated and taught him. He did not want the elf angry with him.

Legolas must have sensed his unease because he suddenly dropped back and walked alongside Thomas. “I am pleased that you have the bow, Thomas. Though I must confess I am envious,” he smiled. “It will be a help to you. Now, Aragorn is another matter,” Legolas got a wicked gleam in his eye. “I will have to think of a way to get back at him for his laughter. Will you help?” he gazed at Thomas questioningly.

Thomas licked his lips nervously and then nodded somewhat hesitantly.

“Good, how about you Gimli? Will you help me get back at the ranger?”

“Sure lad, not much else to do,” Gimli laughed.

Thomas groaned inwardly when he saw the number of elves practicing on the archery field and he wished they had someplace they could do this in private. He watched as the elves rapidly emptied their quivers into the targets, their hands a blur.

“Thomas you said you had shot a bow before, correct?”

“Yes, but…” Thomas glanced at the Galadhrim practicing next to him, “only for fun. It’s not quite like this at home.”

Legolas firmly clasped his shoulder, staring at him intently. “You need to ignore them and focus on what you are doing. I want you to show me what you already know how to do,” he smiled at Thomas encouragingly.

Thomas nodded resolutely and pulled the bow off his shoulder. He took the bowstring and carefully strung the bow, absently wondering what the string was made of. Next, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and as he prepared to nock it, he paused. “Legolas, I don’t think I can shoot that far,” Thomas gestured to the target at the end of the field.

“That is all right, just show me your stance and do everything except release the arrow.

Thomas took a deep breath and tightly grasped the bow in his left hand. He nocked the arrow in the string and then stood facing the target. He pulled the bowstring back carefully, fully aware of Legolas’s intense scrutiny.

“Hold,” Legolas called softly. He walked behind Thomas and sighted over his shoulder at the target. “Turn so your left shoulder is pointed right at the target,” he instructed. “Good. Now, relax your grip on the bow. It must be held lightly, firm yet relaxed.”

Thomas dropped the arrow. He was concentrating on the bow and the arrow slipped from the string and fell to the ground. His face turned crimson from embarrassment. Legolas, however, just casually picked it up and twirled it idly in his hands as he talked.

“When you drew the arrow back you only used two fingers. You need to use three, like this.” Legolas handed the arrow back to Thomas who quickly nocked it. The elf positioned Thomas’s fingers on the arrow, one above and two below and they pulled back slightly on the bowstring.

“It feels strange,” Thomas muttered.

“You are not used to it; however, it will give you the best control. When you pull the bowstring back you need to be consistent. Always bring it back to the same place.” He motioned Thomas to draw the string back as far as he could. When he stopped, Legolas reached over and gently moved his arm, bringing the arrow closer to his mouth. “The edge of your mouth is a good guide. Your elbow looks fine, keep it at shoulder height. Take a deep breath and release the arrow.”

“I won’t hit the target!”

“Do not worry about the target right now. Just relax and release the arrow.”

Thomas squinted at the target, took a deep breath and let go. The arrow flew about forty yards but veered way to the left. “Damn!” he swore.

“It is a common error with young archers,” Legolas stated calmly, “and is easily corrected.”

“Are you sure you don’t just want to use an axe, Thomas?” Gimli called with a deep laugh. “It’s a lot easier to learn!”

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough to even carry one of your axes, Gimli, let alone fight with one,” Thomas said with a small grin. “No, I’ll stick with this.”

“All right lad, but if you should change your mind, let me know.”

“May we continue? Are you done bothering my student, master dwarf?”

Gimli snorted and waved his pipe dismissively, “I was just offering the lad a choice, but he has obviously been bewitched by you and will not listen to reason.”

“Reason? Using an axe is certainly not a reasonable thing to do. Thomas is right, they are heavy…,” Gimli snorted, “and you have to let your enemy get too close.” Legolas’s eyes sparkled merrily as he watched the dwarf get more annoyed.

“Bah, what does a dwarf care if an axe is heavy? Or if the enemy gets too close? We’ll kill them up close or far away, it makes no difference.” He spat on the ground.

Thomas stood leaning lightly on his bow watching the two of them with interest. He could tell that Legolas was teasing by the look in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure about Gimli. They had changed so much in the last few days. He was hoping it would stay that way and that this conversation wouldn’t turn into one of their arguments.

Legolas laughed, “Indeed what does it matter, friend Gimli? Now Thomas must practice his chosen weapon,” he turned back to Thomas with a smile.

0-0-0-0-0

Lying near the tent, Aragorn listened to Merry and Pippin discussing plans for the future. Things they would do when they returned to the Shire, the food they would eat, the ale they would drink, and the lasses they hoped to meet. The last one made him smile even as he lay there with his eyes closed, half asleep.

Aragorn’s thoughts wandered to Arwen and the betrothal promises they had made almost forty years before right here in Lothlórien. His love for her knew no bounds and the incredible sacrifice she was willing to make for him overwhelmed him at times. Becoming the King of Gondor, the task her father had set as a condition for their marriage, had been a long, difficult, and often lonely journey.

His personal journey paled, though, in comparison to what faced them in the weeks ahead. Destroying the ring and ending the reign of Sauron was filled with such dangers and difficulties that Aragorn knew everything would have to happen perfectly for it to succeed.

Becoming king and marrying Arwen were a secondary goal, though the thought of her often helped him through his darkest days. Aragorn smiled as a picture of her standing on a bridge at Rivendell came to mind. Her bluish-grey eyes were fixed on him as he slowly approached, her red lips open slightly in anticipation of his greeting. He took her hand with one of his and with the other he gently cupped her cheek. “My lady,” he breathed, as he bent his head and kissed her. Soft and gentle at first and then deeper, his hand moving up into her hair as her arms slid around his back drawing him closer. Finally they drew back slightly and stood holding each other, finding comfort in each others arms after the long years they had spent apart. Aragorn moved in again…

“Why are you smiling?”

Pippin’s voice startled Aragorn out of his daydream and he opened his eyes and frowned at the hobbit in irritation. “What do you want, Pippin? I am trying to sleep.”

“You were smiling so I thought you were awake. Frodo, Merry and Sam are sleeping. Boromir left and the others haven’t returned yet. I’m sorry, Aragorn.” Pippin stared down at his feet with his hands clasped behind his back.

Aragorn sat up with a deep sigh and looked at Pippin. “Next time, Pippin when I am lying on the ground with my eyes closed please just let me rest.” He reached out and tipped up Pippin’s chin with his finger until he could see the hobbit’s eyes. “Unless there are orcs charging over the hill, there is a raging fire or something like that,” he smiled faintly at the young hobbit.

Pippin grinned back, “I’ll remember, Aragorn,” he promised. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No.”

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

“No.”

“What should we do?”

“I think I will sharpen my sword.”

“Oh. I guess I could watch you do that,” Pippin sounded disappointed.

“Yes… or you could sharpen yours.”

The hobbit shrugged, “All right.” Pippin slipped into the tent to retrieve his sword while Aragorn shook his head and laughed quietly.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca leaned back against the door as she left the healing quarters. Her head was spinning from all of the information she was trying to absorb. That, and trying to deal with Lord Thalion’s attitude, had exhausted her and all she wanted to do was go back to her talan and sleep.

“Rebecca, do you need help?” Brethil’s gentle voice broke into her thoughts.

Shaking her head, Rebecca straightened up and joined her friend. “No, I’m fine,” she smiled. “I’m just trying to remember everything I learned. I imagine Lord Thalion will expect me to remember it perfectly tomorrow,” she stated dryly.

Brethil nodded, “I am sure you are correct, though I have never worked with him before.”

“He reminds me of a teacher I had… Mr. Anderson… everything had to be just perfect.” She laughed softly at the thought of her old bespectacled chemistry teacher. Deciding to change the subject she asked, “Brethil what do you do here? I mean when you are not guiding young mortal girls around?”

Brethil linked her arm in Rebecca’s with a shy smile. “I help in the kitchens and the gardens mostly. However, my real love is music so I am learning to play the harp and various instruments and to sing.”

“I’ll bet you are wonderful! You’ve had so many years to practice.”

“To you it may seem like many years, but not among my own people.”

“I would like to hear you play or sing sometime, I’ve never heard any elvish instruments played before.”

Brethil nodded, “If we have time, maybe I can arrange for a group of my friends to play for you.”

Rebecca had not been paying attention to her surroundings and was surprised when they stopped. She looked around and her eyes fell on Haldir. She sighed inwardly as she remembered her archery lessons and she wished she could just go back to her talan and rest.

“Lord Haldir,” Brethil bowed respectfully to the March Warden.

“Brethil,” Haldir nodded, “Thank you for bringing Lady Rebecca. I shall return her to her talan in about an hour.”

“Yes, my lord,” Brethil gave Rebecca a smile and departed.

Haldir turned to Rebecca and his ice blue eyes swiftly looked her over. She cringed inwardly but held his gaze. He seemed much less intimidating after spending the afternoon with Lord Thalion.

“You appear tired, Lady Rebecca,” he said quietly.

“I am Lord Haldir…”

“Haldir,” he gently corrected her.

“Haldir. Yes, I am tired. I just spent several hours with Lord Thalion and it was…” Rebecca searched for the right word. Unable to come up with anything better she shrugged and said with a small smile, “tiring.”

“You also had your first sword practice this morning,” he noted.

Rebecca nodded wondering where this conversation was going.

“May I see your hands Lady Rebecca?”

She held them out wondering how many more people were going to check her hands today. Rebecca knew Aragorn would certainly see her bandages right away and would want to see them, she thought with a trace of amusement. She felt Haldir’s hands gently holding hers and she looked down.

“You have blisters?”

“Just two and they don’t hurt. Lord Thalion bandaged them,” a hint of frustration crept into her voice.

“You will mostly use your fingers not your palms on your right hand,” he paused. “Still I wonder if we should wait another day,” he looked at her with concern.

“Haldir,” Rebecca gazed up at the tall elf, “I would like to do that because I am tired.” She shook her head, “But I don’t have the time to wait, I don’t know how long we’ll be here.” She bit her lip and glanced away, “Lady Galadriel said this was important for me to learn. I will be just as tired tomorrow.” She smiled at him, “I will get used to this schedule. Just give me a few days and my body and mind will adjust.”

Haldir had a far-away look in his eyes and then he blinked and his eyes snapped back into focus. “Forgive me, Lady Rebecca,” he bowed slightly. “I had indeed forgotten the urgency of your quest in my concern for you. Come.” He led her to a small storage shed that contained a variety of bows. He swiftly selected one.

“This is shorter than the bows, Thomas, Legolas or I would use, but I think it will serve you well. I do not want it to get tangled in your other…” Haldir looked at her sternly. “Lady Rebecca, where is your sword?”

“It’s in my talan. Why?” she gave him a puzzled look.

“You need to wear it at all times now so that you become accustomed to the feel of it. It needs to become a part of you. Did Aragorn not tell you this?”

“No… though he might have said something tonight if I showed up without it. But then they all might say something if I don’t show up in a dress!” she sighed as if annoyed, but a small grin crossed her lips.

Haldir’s eyes sparkled for a moment, “Yes, you look quite lovely in a gown, Lady Rebecca. However at this time you need to wear your sword and I doubt it would work if you were wearing a gown.”

Rebecca laughed, “No, I don’t think that it would.” She shook her head, “Well, at least I got to wear a dress one day. Tomorrow I will wear my sword all day, Haldir,” she promised.

“Good, you will need to get used to the feel of the bow on your back as well as the sword at your side. Being able to string it quickly is something I will teach you and then you can practice in your talan.”

Rebecca watched intently as Haldir showed her step-by-step how to string the bow.

“Now you do it,” he handed her the bow and he watched without comment as she tried to string it. She fumbled with it for several minutes before looking at Haldir for help.

“What am I doing wrong?”

“Try it this way,” he guided her hands until the bow was strung. She smiled and plucked on the string.

“Now what?”

“Unstring it and do it again.”

Rebecca stared at him for a moment, but he just stood there with an unreadable expression, so she sighed and carefully unstrung the bow and started over. It was just as difficult the second time. And the third. Each time Haldir had to help her. The fifth time she finally succeeded on her own and she grinned at him as he nodded in acknowledgement.

“Do it again?” she asked with a small laugh.

“Yes,” he smiled briefly. “Lady Rebecca, you have to be able to do this quickly and without conscious thought. I can teach you to shoot, but if you cannot string the bow quickly enough to use it, it will do you no good.”

“I understand Haldir… well, I do now.” Rebecca unstrung the bow and re-strung it several more times while the elf watched. Once or twice he had to help her, but it rapidly became easier. Finally, Haldir declared he was satisfied.

“I think that is enough for this afternoon Lady Rebecca,” he said quietly. “You do need to practice this as often as you can. I will be watching for improvement when you meet me here to practice.”

Rebecca nodded, “I will Haldir.”

Haldir showed her how to attach the bow to the quiver and how to wear it so that it was comfortable and easy to reach when needed. As they walked back to her talan, Rebecca realized she was no longer intimidated by the elf.

0-0-0-0-0

Freshly bathed and changed Rebecca headed down to camp, adjusting the sword she had belted to her waist. It fit well, yet the weight felt uncomfortable and she understood why Haldir felt it was important for her to wear it. Her step was slow, the mental and physical activities of the day catching up with her. She slipped into camp unnoticed by all, except Legolas and Thomas. She sat next to Thomas giving him a friendly smile.

“How was your day, Rebecca?” Thomas asked quietly.

“Tiring… though I learned a lot. How about yours?”

He smiled, “Sounds the same as yours. Boromir…” he whispered, “wore me out this morning.”

“You guys were working hard.”

“I have to learn… I beat him once!” he grinned suddenly.

“You did? Good for you,” Rebecca gave his hand a friendly squeeze.

“That was fun. Archery is hard,” he frowned, not letting go of her hand.

“I thought you’d done it before.”

Thomas snorted, “Yeah for fun, but it’s nothing like this. I have a lot of bad habits to break.” He sighed, absently caressing Rebecca’s hand. “It probably would have been better if I had never even held a bow before.”

Rebecca smiled inwardly, but all she said was, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

“How was your time with the healer? Did you like it?”

Rebecca groaned and hung her head.

“Surely nothing could be that bad, Lady Rebecca.”

Jerking her head up, Rebecca met Aragorn’s twinkling eyes and she glanced around to see the rest of the Fellowship looking at her. Irritated she asked, “Have you been listening long?”

“No, not long,” Aragorn smiled with amusement as she glared at him. “I did not know you had joined us until I heard you just now. Did something bad happen to you today? Hmmm… let me guess, you spent time with Lord Thalion,” Aragorn smiled again at the look on Rebecca’s face.

Rebecca nodded, “Yes, I did… he is an interesting man… I mean elf.” She shot Legolas an apologetic look, but he just shook it off.

“Only my father has more knowledge of healing than Lord Thalion, Rebecca. Though I know he is… abrasive at times.”

“Abrasive is a good word,” she responded in a dry tone. “Though, I did find it interesting even if he is hard to get along with.” She glanced at Thomas, “He reminds me of a science teacher I had.” Thomas smiled. “I also got to see what he is like with patients and he was kind and gentle so I know he has a good heart. That made it easier.”

“Did someone get injured?” Legolas inquired, staring at her pointedly.

Blushing slightly, Rebecca shook her head and held up her bandaged hand. “I just had a couple of blisters that he bandaged.”

“You should have shown me this morning, Rebecca,” Aragorn scolded.

“I should have, but they were small and…” she shrugged, “it won’t happen again, Aragorn. So, what did everyone else do today?” Rebecca tried desperately to change the subject, causing Aragorn to lean back with a slight grin as he exchanged an amused glance with Boromir.

After supper, Rebecca was preparing to return to her talan when Boromir called, “Leaving so soon, Lady Rebecca? Night has not yet descended on these woods.”

“If you will remember, I was up quite early, Boromir,” Rebecca grinned. “Besides I need to be in the talan before dark or I can’t see well enough to get ready for bed.”

“Are there no lamps or candles?” he asked.

Rebecca saw the looks of confusion on his and the other’s faces… except for Thomas, who only smiled with a look of understanding. “Yes,” she said hesitantly, “but there are no matches that I can find.” Her eyes flicked from Boromir to Thomas.

“What’s a match?” Gimli asked gruffly, “Use the flint to light it.”

“A match is what we use in our world to start fires,” Thomas spoke up. “It’s like a little stick that you strike on … well this material or a rock and it bursts into flame. It’s a lot quicker and easier than using a flint. We’ve never used a flint.”

Quiet chuckles and low murmurs broke out among the Fellowship members. Thomas stood abruptly and crossed to Rebecca,

“I’ll walk you to your talan, Rebecca.”

“I’d like that,” she replied with a tired smile.

They turned and walked away, ignoring both the whispers and the cheery good-nights of those they left behind.

Once out of earshot, Rebecca turned to Thomas with eyes full of sadness. “I get tired of explaining things… of not being believed. Of having to learn even the simplest little things, like lighting a candle.”

Thomas nodded and took her hand. “I understand Rebecca. They know we’re from somewhere else, they just can’t imagine it. I just wish…”

“What?”

“Well, when we say something they didn’t just automatically dismiss it.” Thomas frowned in thought, “Though Aragorn told me he did believe and trust me, it was just that he couldn’t imagine what I was saying was possible.”

They had reached the bottom of the stairs that led to Rebecca’s talan and by unspoken agreement they sat on the bottom step, quietly thinking for a few moments.

It was Rebecca who broke the silence, “I’m so glad you’re here with me Thomas. I could never do this by myself. I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here.”

Thomas smiled, “I’m glad we’re here together,” he said softly. “You make it easier to bear.”

Rebecca smiled, “You’re doing so well Thomas. You fit in with the guys and the sword and fighting and everything.”

“Thanks. Still, it’s good we’re here together. Besides you looked good with your sword this morning.” Thomas stared at her intently with a soft smile.

“That was strange,” she admitted quietly. “I-I want to learn so I can help, but then I remember the orcs,” Rebecca shuddered and shook her head in confusion. “Thomas, what if I can’t do it? What if I panic and run away? Someone could get hurt…”

“Shhh, Rebecca,” Thomas gently placed a finger on her lips while putting his other arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “You’ll do fine,” he said soothingly. “You didn’t panic in the mine. You only had a knife when you stabbed that orc. Now you’ll have a sword and training, I doubt that you will panic or run away.”

Much to Thomas’s dismay, Rebecca pulled slightly away from him and looked at him searchingly, “You really believe that?”

“I do… I wouldn’t just say it Rebecca.”

“No… no you wouldn’t. I think I’m just really tired Thomas and feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything right now.”

“It happens sometimes,” Thomas smiled as he stood. “I think I shall escort you home now, Lady Rebecca,” he gave her a slight bow and reached for her hand.

Giggling, Rebecca took his hand and let him pull her gently to her feet. “I’d be honored, Lord Thomas.” She gave him a brilliant smile as they ascended the stairs.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Elvish Translations:

mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 13 - Leaving Lothlorien

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Notes: Because of time constraints and my limited elvish language skills (I can read some but writing it correctly is a whole different thing!) I have decided to show conversations that take place in 'Elvish' by placing them in italics. That way I can show private conversations between any of the characters. I will still have a few elvish words sprinkled in here and there throughout the story and I will continue to translate those at the end of the chapter. Also, in what I believe is a departure from canon, Aragorn sees Celeborn and Galadriel as his grandparents and they see him as their grandson. Not only is he betrothed to their granddaughter but he was raised in Rivendell by their son-in-law.

Chapter 13 – Leaving Lothlórien

Time passed swiftly in Lothlórien. For most members of the Fellowship it was a time to rest and recover from their journey. However, for Rebecca and Thomas it was a time of learning and acquiring the skills they would need in their new lives.

Practicing with her sword was the hardest part of Rebecca’s day. She lacked the raw physical strength that was required for wielding a sword. Aragorn was teaching her ways to compensate for her lack of strength by using her quickness. It was still very difficult. She also struggled because she never had time to practice except for the hour or two each morning.

Working with Lord Thalion continued to be a struggle – mostly because Rebecca was never quite sure how she was doing. He would seem pleased with her progress one day and the next day everything she did was wrong. Still, she liked working with the herbs and learning when and how to use them. She knew which herbs to use to reduce pain, to bring down fevers and to stop infections. Of course, she hadn’t actually used any of her knowledge on a real patient yet, so was unsure if she would freeze at the sight of blood. Rebecca could only hope that her training would take over and allow her to help the injured.

Archery became one of Rebecca’s favorite parts of the day. Haldir was indeed a patient teacher and it was such a relief to work with him after being with Lord Thalion for several hours. Rebecca excelled at archery. Unlike a sword, which required a lot of physical strength, archery required dexterity, quickness and precision. All traits that she possessed combined with her burning desire to learn and prove herself. While her arrows did not fly as far as Haldir’s due to his superior strength, they still flew 50 – 60 yards and she began to hit the target with increasing accuracy. It brought her great joy to have such success, greatly increasing her self-confidence. While Haldir’s demeanor changed little as he taught her, Rebecca did notice that he smiled more often, though around the other Fellowship members he remained the very polite and proper March Warden.

Rebecca learned many things about the lives and backgrounds of the other members of the Fellowship as they gathered for supper each evening. The hobbits, Gimli and Boromir spoke freely about many things they had seen and done. Rebecca noticed that Aragorn and Legolas mostly listened, though occasionally they told a story of some ancient elvish hero. She and Thomas shared some stories about their lives at home and everyone listened intently and asked many questions. Rebecca didn’t know what had happened that night she and Thomas had walked away from the camp without answering anyone, but it was obvious that something had been discussed. Gimli had quietly pulled her and Thomas aside the next day and showed them how to use a flint. From that point on, everyone seemed more accepting and less skeptical of the things they shared.

Highlighting each day became the walks she took with Thomas each evening. Thomas had continued to ‘escort’ her home each night and it seemed to take longer every day as they seldom went directly back to her talan. At first they stayed near the camp, then ventured further after discovering a nearby stream. They talked about everything, especially about home and family since no one else could truly understand those things. Rebecca cherished those walks and talks with Thomas and wondered again how she would ever survive in Middle-earth without him.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn and Boromir spent hours with Thomas practicing his sword fighting skills as the days passed. Five to six hours, with short breaks became normal as they rushed to prepare him for the dangers of the journey. His body soon grew used to the daily grind and his hands developed thick calluses. The sword was rapidly becoming an extension of his arm. Most of the defensive movements were automatic now, offensive moves were trickier, but Thomas worked hard and he knew he would learn the moves eventually… he just hoped it would be in time.

Thomas had almost given up on archery. Almost, but not quite. He was fortunate that Legolas was an elf and had an infinite supply of patience. Most of the time his arrows still flew to the left, though he was shooting farther. If he concentrated really hard and went slowly, he could get the arrow approximately where he wanted it. He just wasn’t sure he would ever be fast enough to use it in a real battle. Being surrounded by elves and having Gimli making little jokes didn’t help his confidence either. Legolas encouraged him to keep training, that even if he didn’t use the skill now, it would be something he would use later. So, he kept trying.

Like Rebecca, Thomas’s favorite part of the day became the walks they took in the evenings. Just being alone with her gave him both pleasure and pain. Pleasure because as the days passed he realized he truly loved her and being able to hold her hand and to talk with her was wonderful. He loved learning more about her and her family and her life. He loved holding her to comfort her if she was upset, though he sometimes felt guilty about the thoughts that went though his mind as he held her. He enjoyed having someone to talk with about his family and his dreams. Someone that understood him, and truly listened to him. Pain, because Thomas desperately wanted to tell Rebecca how he truly felt. That he loved her, but so far he lacked the courage to do so. Thomas knew he would need to tell her of his love before they left Lothlórien. There were too many dangers outside its borders and he was not willing to risk either of them dying without her knowing how he felt.

0-0-0-0-0

“I learned how to set stitches today!” Rebecca crowed happily as she sat down next to Thomas to eat her supper.

“Ugh,” Pippin shuddered, “I don’t know how you can do that.”

“How do you learn to do that?” Merry looked at her inquisitively, “What do you practice on?”

“Oh, Lord Thalion has these little… doll-like things I used,” Rebecca shrugged. “Of course, there’s no blood so that’s not realistic…”

“Lady Rebecca, we are trying to eat,” Boromir chided softly.

Rebecca flushed and looked down at her feet missing Boromir’s sparkling eyes. “I’m sorry, Boromir. My mom taught me better than that…”

Boromir and the others burst into loud laughter, even Thomas laughed quietly at her expression.

“Lady Rebecca, I would think that by this time you could tell when I am teasing you!” Boromir smiled fondly.

“Well, usually I can Boromir, “Rebecca protested, “but my mom was really insistent about table manners.” She looked around thoughtfully, “Not that I’ve actually eaten at a table for a long time,” she said dryly.

“When you come to my city you shall sit at the Steward’s table. Or,” Boromir glanced slyly at Aragorn from the corner of his eye, “at the King’s.”

Aragorn laughed quietly, his eyes never straying from the fire where he had been staring for quite some time.

“At this point, any table would be fine!” Rebecca smiled.

“It doesn’t matter whose table you’re sitting at, what matters is what’s sitting on the table!” Merry said with a laugh.

“As long as there’s lots of food, I don’t care where I eat,” Pippin grinned as he swallowed.

Gimli grunted, “I have to agree with young Pippin there.”

Thomas slowly tuned out the conversation as he watched Aragorn. Something was bothering the ranger and had been for a couple of days. Thomas had noticed how quiet he had been as they had practiced and he seemed to be spending a lot of time alone. He wondered if they were getting ready to leave. Rebecca’s laughter caught Thomas’s attention and he glanced at her with a soft smile. He knew that if there were going to leave that he had to tell her that he loved her. He couldn’t do it while they were traveling, there was just no privacy and too many things could happen. Thomas nervously rubbed his hands together as he tried to think when and how he should tell her.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn shifted uneasily on the ground where he sat. He had finally reached a decision; he would accompany Frodo to Mordor. Now he had to tell Boromir and make a final decision on Rebecca. Thomas he would take with him as his skill with a blade had improved significantly in the last three weeks. He did not know what Boromir would do, if he would come with him or go on to Minas Tirith alone. Aragorn sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration. He knew what must be done; Rebecca would have to stay here in Lothlórien where she would be safe. He could not protect both her and the hobbits during the journey, and he had to be able to focus on Frodo and the Ring… not on Rebecca.

While he knew that she would be safe among the elves, Aragorn tried to convince himself that since Brethil was a good friend of hers so that Rebecca would not be tool lonely. Shaking his head slightly, annoyed at himself, Aragorn knew that wasn’t true. He knew that leaving Rebecca behind would hurt her deeply no matter how close she was to Brethil or how settled she seemed here in Lothlórien. The members of the Fellowship were her ‘family’ here in Middle Earth and being separated from them would devastate her. Yet, he knew there was no real choice in the matter, the destroying the Ring came first. Aragorn cared too deeply for Rebecca to risk her being injured or killed. She was his ward and it was his duty to protect her, no matter the cost. He could only hope that she could see it his would or would be willing to forgive him. In any case, he would not take her even at the risk of incurring her hatred. Aragorn frowned at that thought. His heart set, he resolved to talk with Celeborn and Galadriel about leaving Rebecca in their care.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca looked at the pile of herbs, bandages, and utensils she would need to carry when she left Lothlórien and sighed. “Brethil, how will I carry all this plus my clothes, food, and weapons?” she looked at the elleth with wide eyes.

“You could…”

“Take fewer clothes,” Lord Thalion snorted from where he stood, across the room, sorting various herbs.

“Lord Thalion,” Rebecca spoke respectfully, “I am only taking three changes of clothing.”

“You only need one,” he retorted, turning to stare at her intently.

“Only one?” she replied doubtfully with a slight frown.

“Lady Rebecca,” his voice softened as he approached her, “you are going on a difficult, dangerous journey. Your clothes should be the least of your concerns. If you have one set to wear and one set to change into should the first get wet, it will suffice. These medicines, however, may save lives. Your weapons may save lives. Food is essential. More than one extra set of clothes is not.”

Rebecca bowed her head in acknowledgement, “You’re right, Lord Thalion. I would hate to run out of healing supplies just because I took extra clothes.” She paused and added with a smile, “Though I insist on taking a comb!”

Lord Thalion actually smiled, “Yes, I do believe a comb could be considered essential, Lady Rebecca,” he said. “Now…” he was interrupted by loud voices at the door.

“We need some help here!” A frantic voice called out as someone banged on the door.

“That’s Thomas!” Rebecca cried, as she, Lord Thalion and Brethil sprang towards the door. She gasped at the sight that met her. Thomas was carrying an ashen faced Pippin, blood streaming down the side of his head, his shirt in tatters. Merry followed closely behind him wringing his hands and whimpering softly.

“What happened?” she gasped.

“Not now!” Lord Thalion snapped. “Put him on the table,” he directed Thomas, “and wait over there.” Thomas laid Pippin down and then grabbed Merry’s hand and gently led the hobbit off to the side. He glanced at Rebecca, but she was watching Thalion examine Pippin.

“Lady Rebecca, I want you to take over,” Lord Thalion straightened up and gazed directly at her.

“Me?” she squeaked, her eyes wide. Then her eyes hardened as she nodded, “Yes, my lord.” Taking a deep breath, she approached Pippin.

“Hello, Pip, looks like you got yourself in some trouble today.” She spoke softly as her fingers gently examined his head to find the source of the blood flow. She found a long, fairly deep cut along the left side of his head that would require stitches and she pressed a cloth against it to stop the bleeding. Pippin said nothing, just stared up at her, eyes wide in fear and pain. Rebecca swiftly glanced down at the rest of his body where his clothes were torn, but saw no blood. “Pippin, are you in pain anywhere besides your head? Do your arms or legs hurt?”

“No,” he whispered, trembling.

“Good,” she smiled at him reassuringly. “You have a cut here that I will need to stitch.” Pippin flinched. “I hope that was because you fear the pain and not my ability, Pip!”

Pippin smiled weakly, “Pain,” he whispered.

“I can do something for that.” Rebecca turned to where Lord Thalion and Brethil had set out the things she would need. She quickly cleaned her hands and then mixed up an herbal tea to help Pippin with the pain, glancing at Thalion for approval. He nodded slightly. After helping him drink it, she started cleaning the blood from his face. As the pain medicine made him sleepy, Rebecca stitched the wound, looking at Thalion for reassurance that she was doing it correctly. He would nod and she continued carefully, not wanting Pippin to have a large scar. She quietly spoke with the hobbit the whole time she worked, soothing him with her voice.

As Rebecca finished bandaging his head, she glanced up at Thalion, “Lord Thalion is it best to try and clean and bandage these smaller wounds through the tears in his shirt or should I remove his clothing?” A hint of amusement could be seen in her eyes. Pippin’s eyes flew open and he struggled to sit up. Rebecca firmly pressed him back down, “Peace, Pippin, I won’t do anything to embarrass you.”

Glancing at the hobbit, Thalion responded wryly, “I think for Pippin’s sake you better not remove his clothing.”

Pippin sighed deeply and Thomas and Merry laughed. Rebecca turned and gave them a brief grin before turning back to her work. It took almost an hour to clean all of the little scraps and wounds and to bandage those that required it. During that time, Aragorn and Legolas had slipped into the room and stood observing Rebecca, talking quietly with Merry and Thomas. Rebecca however was oblivious to their presence as she worked. As she finished, she looked at Pippin, “Now, I hope you don’t expect me to stitch up all of the tears in your clothes!” she said with a small laugh. Pippin laughed softly and was joined by the others in the room. Rebecca turned, surprised to see Aragorn and Legolas and gave them a small smile before looking back at Pippin.

Rebecca gently touched his forehead, checking for fever and found it cool. She mentally ran a checklist of things she should have done and not coming up with anything else she needed to do, she looked up at Lord Thalion.

“My lord, I am ready to release this patient,” Rebecca spoke firmly, looking directly at Lord Thalion.

He gazed at her intently for a long moment then his eyes flicked to Pippin, looking him over. “I concur, Lady Rebecca. You have done well today. So well, in fact, that I am going to release you from your training today, you will not be required to come anymore, though you are still welcome.” Rebecca’s eyes widened. “What I have taught you will be sufficient for wounds such as this and things you are likely to come across on your journey.” Thalion paused and smiled kindly at her for the first time. “You have a healer’s gift, Lady Rebecca, and if you should ever desire to continue your studies, I would gladly train you.”

“Thank you, Lord Thalion,” Rebecca bowed. “I think I would like to do that some day.”

Thalion nodded and left the room, leaving Rebecca shaking her head in wonderment. She turned to see Brethil smiling at her and she walked over and embraced the elleth tightly. Brethil laughed in surprise before lightly hugging her back. “Thanks for all of your help, Brethil.”

“You are quite welcome, Rebecca. I have learned much as well.”

Rebecca started at the voices behind her and she turned to see the others crowded around Pippin. “Excuse me gentlemen,” Rebecca shouldered her way between Aragorn and Merry, “Pippin needs to rest now.” She missed the amused glances Aragorn and Legolas exchanged. “Though I would like to know what happened.” She looked at Thomas for an explanation.

He shrugged and looked at Merry, “I just happened upon them. Merry?”

Merry blushed and stared down at his feet. “We were just playing around…”

“And?” Aragorn prompted.

“I decided to climb a tree,” Merry continued.

“Hobbits are not particularly good tree-climbers,” Aragorn pointed out, biting back a smile.

Merry shook his head miserably, “No, we’re not. Anyway, Pip followed me up and we went kind of high.”

“It wasn’t that high!” Pippin protested.

“Yes it was!” Merry retorted. “Or, you wouldn’t be hurt. Anyway, we got scared and were coming down when Pippin slipped. I grabbed him, but I couldn’t hold on. I guess he hit his head on a sharp branch or something.”

Aragorn nodded, “Well, Pippin you were lucky you didn’t break anything and that you had a good healer available.” He smiled at Rebecca, who grinned. “I suggest, however, that you hobbits stay out of trees.” Both nodded in agreement. “Now, with Lady Rebecca’s permission, I will carry Pippin back to camp.” He looked at Rebecca questioningly and she nodded. Aragorn gently scooped up the hobbit and carried him out the door.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn climbed the steps with a heavy heart. He wasn’t worried that Celeborn and Galadriel would refuse to let Rebecca stay in Lothlórien, though few mortals ever dwelt in this elven realm. He was concerned, however about why Galadriel had Rebecca learning healing skills, she must have sensed something about her. Something she had not shared with him. He frowned slightly at that thought, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake leaving her behind. Rebecca had impressed him today with her skills as she worked on Pippin. She had learned a lot in a short amount of time and the fact that Lord Thalion was willing to take her back as a student told Aragorn much about her potential.

Aragorn took a deep breath and knocked lightly on the door of his grandparents talan.

“Come in, Estel,” Galadriel called.

Entering the room, Aragorn greeted his grandparents quietly, “Daernaneth, Daeradar,” he bowed.

Celeborn raised an eyebrow in question, “Estel? You are troubled.” He stepped forward and firmly embraced his grandson.

“He is concerned that he has made the wrong decision,” Galadriel glided forward and gently kissed Aragorn on the forehead as he gazed at the floor. “Is that not what troubles your heart?”

Aragorn shook his head briefly with a wry smile, “You well know what troubles my heart.” He looked at Celeborn, “With your permission, I would like to leave Rebecca here. I am not going to Minas Tirith at this time. I will accompany Frodo to Mordor instead.”

Celeborn gazed at him intently, “Does Boromir know of this change?”

“Not yet, I will speak with him soon.”

“He will feel betrayed, he trusts you.”

“I know, yet the Ring must be destroyed. How can I send Frodo alone into Mordor? Gandalf was to take him and I find I cannot leave him to face it alone.”

Celeborn nodded, “My heart is heavy at the thought of you in that place, Estel. Yet I see that it must be done.” He regarded Aragorn gravely for a moment, “And, Rebecca?”

“I shall not willing take her into such a place, Daeradar, and I do not think I can protect both her and the hobbits.” Aragorn stared at his feet for a moment before looking up. “I would like her to stay here.”

“No place in Middle-earth is safe, Estel,” Galadriel smiled sadly. “Even here in Lothlórien among the Galadhrim evil may find its way.”

“Yes, I know. However, I still think she would be safer here under your protection.”

“Have you considered what this will do to the child? You know of her past, of her family.” Galadriel’s voice was full of compassion

Aragorn hesitated and closed his eyes briefly before looking at Galadriel. “I have,” he said softly, “it will hurt her deeply and I regret that. Yet I would have her safe.”

“I do not tell you what to do Estel. However, I must point out that you, all of you, are her family here in Middle-earth and she has lost one family already just coming here,” Celeborn said quietly.

Aragorn nodded in agreement, “I know Daeradar. Would you have me take her into Mordor? I cannot,” he shook his head stubbornly. “I can only hope she will forgive me… and that at least some of us will return for her,” he whispered.

“Estel,” Galadriel gently caressed his cheek, causing him to look up. “Do not despair. I cannot see your path ahead, but you must not lose hope.” She smiled faintly, “Otherwise you were named in vain.” Glancing at Celeborn, who nodded, she continued, “Rebecca may stay here until someone comes for her.” Galadriel paused and looked at Aragorn closely, “Though I have sensed that she has something important to do here in Middle-earth. The Valar sent her for a purpose, though I know not what that is. That is my only concern in her staying here”.

Aragorn frowned thoughtfully, “I had not considered that,” he admitted. “Still,” he shrugged, “I will leave her… maybe her purpose is to be played out later.” He sighed, “We may never know.”

“You are taking Thomas?” Celeborn suddenly asked.

“Yes, I had thought to leave him as well, but he is nearly a man in the eyes of his people and his skill with a sword will be useful.”

“Rebecca will truly be alone then,” Celeborn said quietly as if greatly troubled.

“She is close to Brethil and Lord Thalion mentioned today that he would be willing to continue teaching her if she were interested. I hope that will help.” Aragorn ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “It will have to be,” he muttered.

“We will watch over her as well, Estel. You must now trust in the decision you have made.” Galadriel spoke calmly. “You cannot waver from the path you yourself have chosen.” She smiled fondly at her grandson who nodded grimly.

“I will not Daernaneth. I am resolved on this.” Aragorn smiled, “With you and Daeradar, I always become a child again.”

Celeborn smiled, “That is because you are, young one,” he laid his arm affectionately across Aragorn’s shoulder.

Aragorn shook his head and laughed lightly, having had this conversation many times with various elves over the years. “Yes, yes, I know how young I am compared to an elf,” he snorted.

Celeborn and Galadriel both smiled as they walked Aragorn to the door.

“Thank you, Daernaneth, Daeradar. It gives my heart peace to know Rebecca has a place here.” Aragorn bowed slightly.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Celeborn opened the door, “Rest well, Estel, knowing that all will work out as it should.”

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca and Thomas walked silently through the forest heading for their favorite spot near the stream. Rebecca yawned tiredly and she stumbled slightly causing Thomas to grab her arm gently.

“I think I’d better help you tonight,” he murmured quietly, before sliding his hand down to grasp hers.

“I need the help,” she agreed. “I’m pretty tired. “All that excitement with Pippin,” she grinned. “It scared me at first… all that blood,” Rebecca shuddered. “But I remembered Lord Thalion saying head wounds bleed a lot and then… I could just do it.” She frowned thoughtfully, “It was like it wasn’t Pippin, it was just someone that needed help.”

“You did so well,” Thomas said admiringly, “like you had been doing it for years. If we ever get home, you should be a nurse. No, you’re good enough to be a doctor. Though, I don’t know any women doctors, do you?” he glanced at her questioningly.

Rebecca laughed, “I don’t know any, but there are more women doctors now since the war ended. Just not very many. A doctor,” she mused, “hmm… I never thought about anything like that before.” She smiled at Thomas, “Maybe that’s why we’re here, to discover what our true career paths should be!”

Thomas squeezed her hand and laughed as they sat down on the stream bank. He picked up a few small rocks and absently played with them while his heart raced, his mind a jumble as all of his well planned words suddenly escaped him. He had decided that this was the time to share his feelings with Rebecca, but now he wasn’t even sure how to start.

They sat quietly for some minutes before Thomas threw the rocks in the river, dusted off his hands and took a deep breath. Turning to face Rebecca, he took both of her hands in his, smiling faintly at her slightly startled expression. Gazing at her intently, Thomas’s eyes softened as he took in her puzzled brown eyes, her cute nose and her soft red lips that he ached to feel and taste… he shook himself mentally.

“Rebecca, there is something I have wanted to tell you the last few weeks, but – but I have hesitated…”

“Why? You can tell me anything,” Rebecca looked at him in confusion and concern, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

“I know, I know. That is true for most things.” Thomas briefly looked away before fixing his gaze back on her. “This is a little different… a little more difficult for me.”

Rebecca shifted uneasily, wondering what was wrong, “Thomas, what is it?”

“Oh, Rebecca, now I’ve scared you!” Thomas smiled nervously. “It’s not a bad thing.” He took a deep breath and plunged ahead, “Rebecca, I-I love you. I… I didn’t know how to tell you.” He watched her carefully for her response.

Rebecca stared at him in shock for a moment and then her eyes blinked rapidly, “You love me?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes,” he smiled at her, his voice filled with warmth.

“Why? I thought we were friends.”

“Well, we are, Rebecca. You are also the-the most beautiful girl I have ever seen,” his gaze was suddenly very intense and she ducked her head. He reached out and gently lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. “You are also very brave and-and sweet” Thomas frowned thoughtfully. “I-I… you make me laugh, Rebecca. And… and you’re kind to everyone. I just like being with you… you listen to me. I just…” Thomas shrugged helplessly and looked at Rebecca closely, “I just love you, Rebecca,” he whispered.

Rebecca was in turmoil. She quickly tried to sort through all of the feelings that she had for Thomas. She knew she cared for him deeply and loved him as a friend, but she had never considered anything beyond that. Right now she was too overwhelmed to figure anything out, yet she didn’t want to hurt him. “Thomas…” she paused, looking at him uncertainly, “I don’t really know what to say…except I care for you so very much as-as a friend. Maybe…”

“Shh, Rebecca, you don’t have to say anything else,” a brief flicker of disappointment crossing his face. “I-I knew you probably didn’t feel the same. I think we might leave soon and I wanted you to know how I felt in case… in case something happened. Besides you know how that trip will be,” he smiled faintly, “We won’t have time to talk.”

Rebecca nodded, “I’m sorry, Thomas.”

“Do not be, Rebecca,” he said firmly, “Now, I think it is time to take you home.”

Nodding, she got wearily to her feet, once again glad for the privacy of her talan.

0-0-0-0-0

Staring at the ceiling, Rebecca replayed Thomas’s words over and over in her mind, still not quite believing them. He loves me? He thinks I’m beautiful? She sighed softly, not sure what to think. She tried to figure out what she felt for him, he was such a good friend and she cared deeply for him, but she knew that that was not the kind of love he felt for her. Though Thomas was good looking and she smiled as various images of him flew through her mind. Rebecca also knew that she would feel lost without him by her side and she frowned as she drifted off to sleep.

Rebecca walked slowly to the camp; it was early so she hoped Thomas wasn’t the only one up. She frowned as she tried to decide how do act around him as she didn’t want to hurt him and he was such a good friend, she shrugged mentally and decided to wait and see how he acted. Reaching the tent, she found only Legolas sitting outside and sat across from him, greeting him quietly, “Good morning, Legolas.”

“Lady Rebecca,” he bowed slightly before regarding her steadily with his warm blue eyes. “What troubles you this morning?” he asked softly.

Rebecca quickly looked away, “Nothing, I’m fine. Where’s Boromir?”

“He went for a walk with Aragorn. Lady Rebecca, you do not have to share with me, but you are not ‘fine’. There is a shadow about you this morning.”

“Elves,” Rebecca muttered. “I suppose I’m not fine, Legolas. I didn’t sleep well… I had a lot on my mind,” she shrugged.

“Sometimes it helps to share it with someone,” Legolas suggested softly. “Two people can often see a solution where one may not.”

“Some things though just need to be worked out on your own, Legolas…” Rebecca froze when she heard a noise from the tent and relaxed when she realized it was only Gimli snoring.

“Lady Rebecca, does this have something to do with Thomas?” Legolas smiled faintly when she blushed.

“What? How did you know?” she whispered.

“I am an elf,” he shrugged gracefully. “I have seen how he watches you and the way he acts with you. Did he tell you how he feels?” Legolas asked quietly.

Rebecca nodded, “Yes, last night. I was totally surprised, Legolas. We’re friends and… I think I hurt him. Though, I didn’t mean too,” she said quietly, staring at the ground.

Legolas was suddenly sitting next to her, gently holding her hand. “Were you honest with him about your feelings?”

“Yes… I didn’t say much… I told him I cared for him as a friend. I was just so surprised that I didn’t know what to say.”

Legolas smiled, “Then that is all you can do, Lady Rebecca. Thomas has shared his feelings and has heard yours. Yours may change… or they may not. Only time will tell. In any case, I believe you are still quite young for a mortal woman, are you not?”

Rebecca nodded, “I guess… though being here has aged me considerably,” she responded dryly.

Legolas laughed merrily, “I am sure it has.” He looked at her seriously, “Lady Rebecca, the ways of the heart are unfathomable and yours may change overnight,” he smiled faintly. “Thomas is your friend and I believe his love for you runs deep, do not shy away from him because he has declared his feelings. You need his friendship and he needs yours as well.”

“I know… I can’t imagine being here without him, Legolas. It just feels strange now, sort of awkward.”

Legolas raised his eyebrow questioningly, “It feels strange because you know Thomas loves you? Lady Rebecca, he felt the same way yesterday and for many days before that, yet he has been nothing but a friend to you. I doubt that will change now that you know how he feels. You can choose to respond to him as you always have or to pull away from him.” He looked at her intently, “The choice is yours, Lady Rebecca, but make sure you consider the consequences of your actions.”

Nodding, Rebecca stayed silent, considering all that Legolas had spoken while she waited for the others to awaken.

0-0-0-0-0

They had walked well away from the tent before Aragorn turned to tell Boromir of his decision. “Boromir, I wanted you to be the first to know…” Aragorn paused briefly while staring intently at Boromir.

Boromir looked at him keenly, “Yes?”

“I cannot go with you to Minas Tirith as we had planned. I feel I must go to Mordor with Frodo.”

“What?” Boromir froze a look of absolute shock on his face. “We were to go there together, to fight against the enemy side by side!” he protested.

“We would have, had Gandalf lived,” Aragorn responded. “As he did not, it falls on me to accompany Frodo.”

“Why not take the Ring to Minas Tirith?” Boromir argued, a shadow crossing his face that Aragorn could not read.

“Why would we do that?” Aragorn asked sharply.

“Well, since we cannot use it, at least we could re-gather our strength before taking it on to Mordor.”

“No, Boromir, I will not take the Ring to Minas Tirith. It goes from here.” Aragorn looked at his friend sadly, “Forgive me for breaking my word to you, Boromir. I would never do so without just cause.”

Boromir waved his words off, “I know Aragorn,” he sighed. “What about the others?”

“They will come with me and the hobbits. I would like your company as well, though I know Minas Tirith is calling you home.”

“Yes, father expects and needs me.” His eyes narrowed, “What path will you travel?”

“The river,” Aragorn replied simply, watching Boromir closely, wondering what the man was thinking.

“I could travel with you for a while at least,” he said slowly, glancing at Aragorn with an unreadable expression.

Nodding in agreement, Aragorn responded quietly, “I would like that, Boromir. Our road runs together for many miles yet and it would be safer for all of us to stay together as long as possible.”

Boromir nodded, gave Aragorn one last piercing look, turned and strode off into the woods, his body taut with anger.

Aragorn rubbed the back of his neck as he watched him leave, then turned and walked back towards camp, his eyes narrowed in thought.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas smiled warmly at Rebecca as he emerged from the tent seeking his breakfast. She looked at him hesitantly for a moment before saying quietly, “Good morning, Thomas.”

“Good morning,” he sat next to her, balancing his food on his lap. “What are you going to do today, now that you don’t have to meet with Lord Thalion?” he asked between bites of food.

“Well, he said I don’t have to come, so I still might go anyway. Brethil and I need to pack the herbs and other things I’m taking with us. We didn’t get that done yesterday… in fact,” Rebecca glanced around looking for Pippin. “Pippin! How are you feeling this morning?”

“I’m fine, Rebecca. I don’t hurt.”

“Good. Still, after breakfast I want to check those stitches.”

“Oh, Rebecca you don’t need to do that,” Pippin whined.

“Yes she does, Pippin,” Aragorn spoke firmly as he strode into camp, giving him a stern glance. “She tended you and you are now under her care, you must trust that she knows best.” Aragorn gazed at Rebecca with an unreadable expression for a long moment.

“Thank you, Aragorn,” puzzled by his expression. She glanced at Thomas, but he shook his head, also confused.

Aragorn nodded and continued on to the tent, ducking inside briefly before returning and sitting next to Legolas. He lit his pipe, causing Legolas to shoot him an irritated glare and the elf scooted down the log away from the ranger. The others watching the little drama laughed and the conversation started up again.

Breakfast over, Rebecca checked Pippin and finding him healing well, she walked with Thomas to the practice field. To her great relief, once she got over her initial nervousness, it was still as easy to talk to Thomas as it had always been and she was glad she had heeded Legolas’s advice.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas knew something was wrong the moment he entered the practice field. While nothing was said, he could feel the underlying tension between Aragorn and Boromir. They barely looked at each other and few words passed between them. He wondered what had happened between them and if that was why Boromir had not shown up at breakfast. Thomas mentally shook it off, focusing instead on sparring with Boromir, who was being particularly aggressive and Thomas found himself without his sword numerous times. It also seemed as if the blows he received when he lost his sword were extra hard, harder than was usual and he looked at Boromir warily. Finally, he ventured a question, “Boromir, are you angry with me?”

“What? No, why do you ask?” Boromir stared at him.

Thomas looked at him uncertainly, intimidated by his tone and stance, “Oh, you just seemed angry and I-I thought maybe I had done something wrong.”

Boromir laughed bitterly, “No, Thomas, I am not angry at you. Now, enough talking.” He gestured for Thomas to attack again. Realizing he was angry at Aragorn, Thomas cautiously moved forward to attack Boromir.

They sparred for several more minutes with the same results as before and Thomas was getting tired and sore. Finally, it was Aragorn who called a halt, wanting to spar with Thomas while Boromir sparred with Rebecca. Thomas looked at the ranger pleadingly; he did not want Rebecca sparring with Boromir while he was this angry. Aragorn ignored him. They switched, but Thomas kept one eye on Rebecca.

“Thomas, you need to focus on me, she will be fine,” Aragorn said quietly.

“I’m afraid he’ll hurt her, he’s very angry.”

“I know. That’s why we switched, I did not want you injured. He will not hurt a woman though.” Aragorn glanced at Boromir and Rebecca as he circled around Thomas.

“Why’s he mad?” Thomas tried to slip his sword past Aragorn’s arm, but it was deftly blocked.

“I cannot tell you now, Thomas,” he pushed Thomas’s sword down and lightly slapped his side. “I think you have had enough for today.”

“Certainly enough of being hit, but not enough practice, Aragorn. I don’t think I can get enough of that.”

“Maybe not. Nonetheless, I want you to take the rest of the morning off. Relax and rest… that’s an order, Thomas,” Aragorn gave him a faint smile.

“Yes, my lord,” Thomas smiled back.

0-0-0-0-0

It took Aragorn a long time to find Rebecca. He had been searching for her for over an hour before he finally found her talking quietly with Brethil. As he looked for her he decided it would have been easier to track down a deer than it was to find her. Aragorn hated what he was about to do, yet he also didn’t want to wait until the last minute to tell Rebecca she wasn’t going. He hoped that it would give her some time to adjust to the situation while they were still with her.

Brethil and Rebecca looked up, smiling, at his approach.

“Aragorn! What brings you here?”

“Forgive me for interrupting you,” he smiled at Brethil, who nodded graciously. “I need to speak with you, Rebecca.”

“Oh,” Rebecca glanced at Brethil, questioningly.

“Go ahead, Rebecca,” she laughed lightly. “We can finish our discussion later after…” the elleth paused, “after supper perhaps.” Her eyes twinkled as she gazed at Rebecca.

“Yes, after supper would be a good time,” Rebecca grinned.

Aragorn glanced between the two, aware that he was missing something. He shook his head slightly, “Come along, Rebecca,” he reached down and helped her to her feet, leading her in the general direction of camp, yet stopping well short of it to give them privacy.

Seeing no reason to delay, Aragorn plunged right in. “Sit down, Rebecca,” he said gently, waiting until she sat before continuing. He crouched in front of her, so he could see her eyes, running his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed.

Rebecca watched him with concern and growing unease. She wondered why he was upset and if she had done something wrong.

Aragorn gazed at her intently for a moment and when he spoke his voice was gentle. “Rebecca, I hope that I have earned your trust…”

“I trust you, Aragorn.”

“Good, then you also know that I would never do anything to harm you, only to protect you,” he gazed at her searchingly.

Swallowing hard, Rebecca nodded, twisting her hair nervously, her unease growing.

“Rebecca, my plans have changed. I am no longer going to Minas Tirith. I am going to Mordor with Frodo.”

“What about me and Thomas?” she whispered.

“Thomas is coming with me,” he said gently. “You are going to stay here in Lothlórien. You will be safe here with the elves. I know it is not what we planned, but I will not take you into Mordor. It is too dangerous and I cannot protect both you and the hobbits.”

Rebecca jumped to her feet, looking at Aragorn with confusion, hurt, disbelief, and anger all clearly evident on her face as her eyes filled with tears. “You are – you’re leaving me behind?” she whispered.

Aragorn reached for her hand, but Rebecca angrily pulled it away as she slowly backed away from him, tears now streaming down her face. With a sudden cry of deep pain, she turned and fled.

“Rebecca!” he yelled. Aragorn dropped his head and rubbed his forehead. “That went well,” he muttered sarcastically. Suddenly, his upper arm was grabbed and he was spun around where he met Boromir’s furious dark eyes.

“What did you do to Rebecca?” he demanded harshly.

Aragorn looked beyond Boromir to see that the rest of the Fellowship had gathered, drawn by Rebecca’s cry and his yell. All had expressions of confusion and concern on their faces.

“Release me, Boromir,” he said tersely, staring at him coldly until Boromir removed his hand from Aragorn’s arm.

“What happened, Aragorn?” Thomas asked anxiously, “Is Rebecca all right? Is she hurt?” His eyes darted between Aragorn and Boromir, worried again at the strange tension between the two, though currently he was more concerned about Rebecca.

Aragorn glanced at Legolas, who smiled encouragingly, before he explained. “Rebecca is… angry with me right now. I have not told any of you, except Boromir and Legolas, that I am not going to Minas Tirith. I have decided to accompany Frodo to Mordor.” Frodo’s eyes lit up and Thomas just stared at him unblinking. “Because of that, I have decided to leave Rebecca here. I will not take her to Mordor. That is why she is upset.”

It was quiet for a moment and then almost everyone started talking at once. The loudest voice belonged to Boromir.

“Leave her here? Why? Rebecca can accompany me to Minas Tirith.” Boromir glared angrily at Aragorn, “I am still going there.”

“I will not allow Rebecca to travel that distance with only one escort, Boromir. It is too dangerous,” Aragorn spoke in a tone that brooked no argument.

The hobbits looked uneasily from Boromir to Aragorn and Legolas laid his hands comfortingly on their shoulders.

Boromir glared at Aragorn for a moment longer and then dropped his gaze, “You are correct, Aragorn. It would not be safe for her and while I am willing to risk my life to get home, I am not willing to risk hers.” He glanced up briefly, “I just worry for her, left here alone without us. She will have a hard time.”

“She will… she is,” Aragorn agreed. “Yet I believe it is best for her,” he shrugged. “The safest thing, though I fear she does not see it.” A look of sorrow crossed his face.

“She will, Aragorn, she will,” Frodo spoke up softly.

“Aye, she’s a smart lass,” Gimli grunted.

“Well, I’m glad she’s staying,” Thomas said quietly, relieved she would be out of harms way. Looking up he saw a few amused grins and quiet chuckles, which broke the tense atmosphere and caused him to blush slightly. “Aragorn, where did Rebecca go? Did you see?”

“I do not know, Thomas,” Aragorn gestured towards the woods on the right. “She headed in that direction, though I would venture to say that she will go to her talan eventually.”

Thomas nodded, “I will find her and talk to her.” Thomas took off running in the direction Aragorn had pointed. Using the tracking skills Legolas had been teaching him, he could easily see where Rebecca had run, heedless of any plants or bushes. He found where she had stopped and sat on the ground for awhile before moving on. It was harder to track her after that because Thomas could tell she had calmed and was walking slowly. When he discovered she was headed towards her talan, he sprinted off in that direction.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca lay on her bed staring at the ceiling. The tears had stopped, though an occasional tear leaked out and trailed down her cheek and ran into her ears. There were no words to describe what she was feeling, except raw pain. She couldn’t understand how Aragorn could do this to her. There were no answers to the questions that kept running through her mind. She didn’t know how long she had been lying there when there was a light knock on the door. Not wanting to see or talk to anyone, and fearing it was Aragorn, Rebecca didn’t answer. The knock came again. And again. “Go away and leave me alone,” she finally yelled out angrily.

“Rebecca, its Thomas,” his muffled voice came through the door. “I was worried about you. Can I come in?”

At least it’s not Aragorn, she didn’t ever want to see him again, Rebecca thought bitterly. Still, she hesitated, “All right, Thomas, you can come in.” Rebecca got up and moved into the sitting room as Thomas slowly opened the door.

At the look of compassion on Thomas’s face, Rebecca sank down on the couch, buried her head in her hands and started weeping again. Thomas was quickly sitting beside her with his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her gently as she wept bitterly. He didn’t say anything, he just let her cry. Eventually she drew some long shuddering breaths and snuggled further into Thomas’s embrace as he carefully sat back on the couch. It was quiet for a long time, except for Rebecca’s deep breaths and occasional sniffles.

Finally, she said quietly, “I can’t do it, Thomas. I can’t stay here and watch you all leave. How can I? Doesn’t Aragorn understand that I’d rather die with you guys than be here all alone and be safe?” Tears streamed down Rebecca’s face unchecked. “What if you all die?” she whispered brokenly. “I won’t have anyone then,” she wiped away the tears as Thomas hugged her tightly. “I can’t go home and yet everyone I know would be dead.” Rebecca laughed hollowly, “Well, I guess there are the elves here, but I couldn’t stay here forever.”

Thomas continued to hold her and listen, knowing that there was nothing he could say. Everything she said was true, yet still he was glad she was staying, he loved her and wanted her to be kept safe. He knew that Aragorn cared for her deeply and that because she was a woman and so young he was leaving her behind. Thomas could only hope that he would return for her, and if not him, then someone from the Fellowship would survive to come for her.

“Why Thomas? Why is Aragorn doing this to me? I never want to see him again! I hate him!” she hissed angrily. Rebecca burst into sobs again.

“Oh, Rebecca,” Thomas gently kissed her forehead in an effort to comfort her.

Startled, Rebecca looked up at him in surprise, blinking back her tears. “Did you just kiss me?”

“What? Oh, um…I guess I did,” Thomas answered sheepishly, looking down in embarrassment. “I’m sorry… it just seemed like the right thing to do,” he smiled softly.

Shaking her head as she wiped away her tears, Rebecca smiled at Thomas, “Hmmm, well, that sounds like a reasonable excuse.” Her smile disappeared, “Thomas I don’t know what to do now. Aragorn won’t change his mind,” her eyes were troubled and sad.

“My only advice is for you to try and sleep now. It won’t change anything, but you do need to rest.”

“It’s probably a good idea. I’m exhausted, though I don’t know if I will actually be able to sleep.” Rebecca looked up at Thomas from where she sat still encased in his arms. “Thomas thanks for listening to me… for being my friend. I really needed that tonight.

“You’re welcome, Rebecca,” he smiled at her gently as he stood and carefully pulled Rebecca to her feet. After opening the door, he turned back for a moment, “Rebecca, it will all work out as it is supposed to, though I am truly sorry for all of your pain.”

Rebecca stared at him for a moment and then quickly reached up and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you, Thomas. Good night,” she quickly closed the door.

Thomas stared at the door in shock as his hand moved up to where her lips had touched his check. He shook his head in wonderment, then turned on his heel and headed down to camp.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca awoke to sunlight streaming through the windows of her talan. She smiled as she stretched and yawned until the events of the past day hit her. Dragging herself from bed, she walked to the couch in her nightgown and plopped down, pulling her feet up and wrapping her arms around her knees. She sat there brooding for a long time, wondering what she should do… what she could do.

“Rebecca?” Brethil’s voice and a light tap on the door startled her from her thoughts.

“Come in, Brethil,” she called dully.

Brethil stopped short just inside the door, “You are not dressed!” she exclaimed. “Are you ill?”

“I’m fine,” Rebecca shook her head. “I’m just not going anywhere so I don’t need to be dressed,” she stared down at her feet.

Brethil swiftly crossed to her friend and sat, “What has happened, Rebecca?” She took one of Rebecca’s hands and rubbed it gently.

Rebecca smiled briefly before looking down again, “Aragorn is making me stay here, Brethil. He isn’t going to Minas Tirith; he’s going to Mordor with Frodo.” A single tear fell down her cheek, “Everyone is leaving but me,” she whispered, “I’ll be here alone.”

“I will be here, Rebecca,” Brethil reminded her gently.

Rebecca squeezed her hand tightly, “I know, I know and if it wasn’t for you it really would be impossible. But…”

“These men are your family here, are they not?”

Rebecca nodded helplessly.

“I know, Rebecca. I have seen you with them many times and I am amazed at how close you are to them. Humans are so different than elves and form attachments very quickly.”

“They are like my brothers or uncles or…”

“Father?” Brethil smiled knowingly.

“I suppose,” she mumbled, staring at her feet again.

“Rebecca, your own father died when you were very young, it is not surprising that someone else would fill that role. Especially when you have been thrust into a situation like this. Aragorn has made you his ward, of course you see him as a father figure.” Brethil laughed gently. “It is not surprising or unusual… it would be strange if you did not. You know he cares deeply for you.”

Rebecca shrugged.

“Rebecca, look at me,” Brethil’s voice had softened.

Sighing, Rebecca looked up.

“Aragorn does care for you; you know this in your heart.”

Nodding reluctantly, Rebecca stared at the floor again. “Brethil, it just hurts so much, I can’t stand it.”

“I am sure it does. Someone you trust has disappointed you and you are angry right now. Time will help heal this wound, but I think at some point you will need to speak with Aragorn.”

Rebecca shook her head vigorously, “I can’t do that! I’m not sure I even want to see him again!”

“Rebecca, how will you feel if Aragorn dies after he leaves?”

Rebecca flinched, “He can’t die, he has to come back,” she whispered.

“I thought so,” Brethil squeezed her hand gently. “Take a day, then speak with Aragorn,” she urged her gently. “Do not let your heart become bitter towards him. I know it is hard, but try and see it from his perspective. He is trying to protect you.” Brethil rose gracefully to her feet, “I will bring you some breakfast and perhaps later we can take a walk.”

Rebecca nodded absently, already lost in thought.

0-0-0-0-0

The morning after her talk with Brethil, Rebecca decided to join the others for breakfast. She wasn’t ready to talk with Aragorn just yet, but she missed everyone else. She wore one of her pretty dresses since she figured there was no sense in practicing with her sword anymore. Rebecca ran her fingers longingly over the sheathed sword before leaving the talan.

As she approached the camp, Rebecca noticed that everyone was already up and eating, including Aragorn. She sighed, wishing it was one of the days when he had already left for the morning. Still, she knew she couldn’t totally avoid seeing him even if she didn’t talk to him. Legolas was the first to notice her and gave her a warm, welcoming smile,

“Good morning, Lady Rebecca.”

“Morning, Legolas.”

The others looked up and greeted her as well. Rebecca glanced around, smiling nervously, though she couldn’t bring herself to look at Aragorn.

“You’re wearing a dress, Rebecca! Where’s your sword?” Pippin exclaimed.

“Pippin!” Frodo and Merry scolded.

“I-I don’t think I’ll need a sword now, Pip,” Rebecca said quietly, biting her lip as she sat down next to Thomas.

“Oh, that’s because…” Pippin’s words were cut off as Merry covered his mouth. Merry whispered in his ear before letting him go.

“You don’t have to do that, Merry,” Rebecca said quietly. “I know I’m not going with you,” she glanced around at everyone, though still avoiding Aragorn. “I’m sure you’ll need to talk about things, whether I’m around or not, don’t worry about me.” Thomas reached over and took her hand and she smiled at him gratefully.

“We do worry about you, Lady Rebecca, you are our friend,” Legolas was watching her intently.

Rebecca ducked her head under his scrutiny, “I just meant don’t stop talking about stuff because I show up… that would make me nervous.” She smiled at Legolas, who just looked at her searchingly. “I’ll be all right, Legolas.”

“I am sure you will,” he said softly, as he smiled.

Boromir stretched and rose to his feet, “Thomas, I think it is time to practice, come along.” He stopped by Rebecca for a moment, taking her hand gently in his sword calloused ones. He spoke quietly, “Lady Rebecca, loathe as I am to admit it, and as much as I will miss you, Aragorn is right in this. You will be much safer here.” He smiled faintly at her before moving on.

Rebecca stared at her feet as he walked away, not really surprised by his words.

“Bye, Rebecca… I’ll miss practicing with you,” Thomas smiled as he followed Boromir.

“Me too,” she whispered.

Aragorn watched Rebecca thoughtfully for a few moments before following the others. He wanted to talk with her, but if she couldn’t even look at him, he knew she wasn’t ready. At least she had joined the group and seemed to have accepted the fact that she would not be going. Aragorn sighed softly before pushing it to the back of his mind, ready to focus instead on training Thomas and the hobbits.

0-0-0-0-0

It was the middle of the afternoon and Rebecca was writing in the journal she had been keeping when there was a firm knock on the door. Opening it, she was surprised to see Haldir standing there gazing at her with the look that had so often intimidated her.

“Lady Rebecca, you are quite late for your lesson and you did not appear at all yesterday,” he said sternly.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Haldir,” she said quietly, looking past him. “I don’t need to practice anymore. I’m not going anywhere.” Rebecca bit her lip and stared at the floor. “I should have told you though.”

“I did hear that you will be staying here, Lady Rebecca. However, Lady Galadriel has not told me to stop teaching you.” Rebecca’s head shot up and she looked at him in surprise. “Until she does, I will continue to teach you.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked bitterly. “I won’t ever need to use it now.”

“Lady Rebecca,” Haldir chided softly. “You do not know what the future holds. Even here in these woods it may be useful. Or, your path may take you somewhere else.” He shrugged gracefully, “You still need to learn. Besides, you are becoming very proficient and I think you enjoy it, do you not?”

Rebecca nodded, “I do like it Haldir. I just didn’t see the point anymore.”

“Learning is always its own reward, Lady Rebecca,” he smiled briefly. “Now change quickly and meet me on the practice field.”

Rebecca rushed to change, her heart lighter than it had been for a couple of days.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca knew it was time. She couldn’t stand not talking with Aragorn and she felt, after talking with Brethil, that she at least understood his reasons, even if she didn’t agree with them. Rebecca hesitantly approached him after lunch, “Aragorn,” she whispered, “can I talk to you?” she glanced up at him briefly as she shifted nervously on her feet.

“Of course, Rebecca,” Aragorn responded softly. “Shall we go sit by the stream?” She nodded. Aragorn led the way down to the stream, with Rebecca following slowly behind. The rest of the Fellowship watched them leave with expressions of relief and concern.

Rebecca sat down heavily on a log and picked up a branch to play with, while Aragorn sat leaning against a tree, watching her intently. They sat that way for several long moments before Aragorn spoke,

“Rebecca?”

She jumped, slightly startled and looked at Aragorn sheepishly, “I’m sorry, Aragorn,” she frowned and looked down again. “Aragorn,” she whispered, “I don’t think I can take it.” Rebecca looked at him with tear-filled eyes, which she tried desperately to blink back. “I do understand why you want me to stay, but Aragorn,” she pleaded, “please let me come. If something happens to all of you, I’d rather be dead anyway.” Tears started falling unchecked down her cheeks.

Aragorn watched her compassionately for a moment and then moved closer and took her hands gently. “Rebecca, you said that you trusted me, did you not?” he asked quietly.

Rebecca nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“I told you that I had made you my ward and that I was responsible for your safety.” Aragorn tilted her chin up so Rebecca had to look at him.

“Yes, you told me that,” she whispered.

“Lothlórien is the safest place for you,” he said quietly, yet firmly.

Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut and wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

“I know this is hard for you, Rebecca. You are without your family and now the people you know best are leaving,” Aragorn’s voice was full of sorrow. “Rebecca, look at me.,” he said softly. He waited until she opened her eyes before he continued. “Yet I must go with Frodo. The Ring must be destroyed. It comes before all of our personal desires.” He rubbed her hands gently.

“Why can’t I help you?” she begged. “You told me a long time ago that having a sense of humor was helpful and now I can use a sword, and I’m a healer and I can use a bow…”

“Use a bow?” Aragorn asked sharply.

“Oh… I wasn’t supposed to tell you that. Lady Galadriel thought it was important for me to learn.” She shrugged, “Haldir’s been teaching me.”

Aragorn frowned in thought before chuckling, “Are you any good?”

“Yes, I am,” she nodded firmly.

“Good. But, Rebecca,” he paused and looked at her with compassion in his grey eyes, “Still, I will not take you to Mordor. I ask that you trust me on this even though I know it is difficult and hard to understand.”

Rebecca closed her eyes in pain before nodding slowly, “All right, Aragorn,” she whispered brokenly, “I will trust that you know best.” She opened her eyes and stared at him intently, “You have to promise to come back,” she said fiercely.

“I cannot, Rebecca. You know that,” Aragorn shook his head. “Though, I will promise to try my hardest,” he smiled gently.

“That’s all I can ask,” she sighed, gazing out at the stream. “I didn’t really think you’d change your mind, but I had to ask,” Rebecca glanced at Aragorn from the corner of her eye.

“I knew you would,” Aragorn said with a faint smile. He stood and pulled Rebecca to her feet and embraced her. She clung to him tightly for a moment and then with a sad smile headed back to camp.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas spent as much time as possible with Rebecca during the last week of their stay in Lothlórien. He knew, without being told, that Aragorn had not changed his mind about her coming with them. Not that he was surprised. He could see the sorrow in Rebecca’s eyes as she and Aragorn returned to camp that afternoon. Rebecca never told him what Aragorn had said, but he knew she had come to some sort of acceptance or understanding with him because she no longer avoided Aragorn. Though, she was much quieter around all of the members of the Fellowship.

Thomas took Rebecca on long walks through the woods, knowing this might be the last time they had to spend together. Sometimes they talked of home or sometimes an hour would pass in silence, but it was always a comfortable silence, not an awkward one. The day before their departure, Thomas led the way to a small intimate glade Rebecca hadn’t seen before.

“This is beautiful, Thomas,” she looked around in awe at the mallorn trees and the flowers lining the clearing.

Thomas looked pleased, “I found it the other day and I thought you’d like it.” He smiled, “Here, sit down.”

They sat and enjoyed the peacefulness of the place, listening to the birds and watching a few brave squirrels venture closer.

“Rebecca…” he turned to face her, “I have such mixed feelings about you not going with us.”

Rebecca stared at him curiously, “What do you mean?”

Thomas gazed at her intently and gently took her hand. “Rebecca, I told you how I feel… I love you.” Rebecca nodded shyly. “So part of me wants you to come just so I can be with you,” he frowned. “That’s the selfish part of me. I also want you to be safe, Rebecca,” he whispered softly, “and that part of me is…glad Aragorn is making you stay.” Thomas sighed, “I couldn’t stand to see you hurt, Rebecca.” He waited for her reaction.

Rebecca stared at him for minute and then glanced away. “I would hate to see you hurt too, Thomas, but I’d still like to go. I don’t know how I’ll do this without you here… you are such a part of my life, Thomas...” she smiled at him. “I can’t ever imagine you not being at my side. It will kill me if you don’t come back,” she whispered. She sighed and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them as she stared across the glade.

Thomas blinked at her words, not exactly sure what she was saying… he couldn’t ever imagine not being with her either. Still, she hadn’t said she returned his love and with him leaving, it might be best to wait until he returned… if he returned.

“Rebecca, I-I have something for you.” Rebecca watched as Thomas dug into a pocket in his tunic and pulled out a small leather bag. “I got this at the jewelry workshop. I thought it was pretty.” He held the small bag out to Rebecca who looked from it to Thomas and back again before slowly taking it.

“Thank you, Thomas,” she looked at him for a moment, noticing his nervousness. She carefully untied the bag, watching Thomas out of the corner of her eye. Reaching in, she felt a slender chain, which she carefully drew from the bag. It was a beautiful silver necklace with a teardrop shaped pendant containing a rich red stone. There were intricate elvish designs etched around the outside of the pendant.

“Thomas, it’s gorgeous,” Rebecca breathed softly.

“Oh, good, you like it,” Thomas sighed in relief with a big smile.

“Of course I do, it’s beautiful. Help me put it on.” Rebecca handed it to him and Thomas carefully fastened it around her neck.

Rebecca looked at the necklace lying on her chest and then up at Thomas, understanding dawning in her eyes. “Thank you.” She suddenly hugged him and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. “This is in case you don’t come back, isn’t it?” she whispered into his ear.

Thomas hesitated, and then pulled back so he could see her eyes, though he kept his arms around her. “I wanted you to have something to remember me if…”

“I don’t need this to remember you,” she gave him a breath-taking smile. “My memory is quite good.” She looked down as her eyes filled with tears. “Be very careful Thomas.”

“I’ll do my best, Rebecca,” he promised.

“I know and you have Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli with you. You’ll be fine.”

Thomas smiled, “Right, what can hurt me with them around?” He glanced around, “We should probably head back now, Rebecca.” He stood and helped Rebecca to her feet. He gazed at her intently for a moment before taking his hand and softly caressing her cheek. Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, enjoying his touch. Thomas paused and then slowly leaned down and kissed her tenderly. Rebecca’s eyes flew open and then she relaxed, returning his kiss. As she did so, Thomas drew her into his arms and she hesitantly embraced him as well. Suddenly, Thomas froze and pulled away from Rebecca and she looked at him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, Rebecca, I shouldn’t have done that,” Thomas gazed at her with regret.

“What? Kissed me?” Rebecca asked in surprise.

“Yes, I took advantage of you… I love you, but you just see me as a friend,” he stared at the ground.

“Thomas,” something in her voice caused Thomas to look up hopefully. “I have come to realize that I can’t imagine life without you, and what I feel for you goes much deeper than friendship. I-I think I love you too, Thomas.”

Thomas eyes lit up with such joy and love that it took Rebecca’s breath away. He took her hands in his and caressed them gently, “Oh, Rebecca,” he whispered, “are you sure?”

“Yes, quite sure,” she laughed quietly.

Thomas embraced and kissed her softly before pulling back and taking her hand again. Glancing around at the growing darkness with a slight frown, he sighed. “I hate to leave, but we really should head back before Legolas sends out a search party,” he grinned.

Rebecca smiled and nodded and they walked hand in hand back to camp.

0-0-0-0-0

The day of departure had come. The Fellowship was to leave at noon and take the Silverlode River down to the Anduin River and follow it as far as they could before heading into Mordor.

Rebecca and Thomas lagged slightly behind the others as they made their way to where the boats were moored. Their hands were clasped tightly, though no words passed between them. Earlier, they had taken time to say their good-bye in private, not wanting the others to witness the depths of their feelings for each other.

All too soon they arrived at the river, Rebecca was glad to see Brethil was there and she smiled at her gratefully, knowing she wouldn’t have to walk home alone. Haldir was also there, though he was helping with the boats. Still, it was good to have another familiar person there who would not be leaving. Thomas left her with Brethil and went to help with the loading of the boats. Rebecca stood with her arms crossed watching her friends, maybe I should have said good-bye at the camp and not come here, she thought as she swallowed a lump in her throat.

Aragorn glanced at Rebecca occasionally as he worked; glad that she had come to see them off, though he knew it was difficult for her. He smiled inwardly as he thought of her and Thomas, and then frowned, wondering if he should leave Thomas so they could have a chance at a life together. But he knew it was too late to do that, he could not do it to Thomas.

The boats packed, it was time to say good-bye to Rebecca. She trembled slightly as they approached and then stopped herself and looked at them with a wan smile. “I guess this is it, huh?” she said weakly. The hobbits were first and Frodo and Sam murmured quiet good-byes and Rebecca told Frodo to be strong and brave with whatever he faced and wished him good luck. Merry and Pippin had tears in their eyes, which brought tears to her own. She bent down and hugged them tightly. “Be careful, you two and stay out of trouble. I’ll miss you.”

Pippin nodded, “I’ll miss you too, Rebecca… and I never get into trouble!” he smiled cheekily. Rebecca smiled.

“Take care, Rebecca. We’ll be back before you know it,” Merry grinned with a slight bow.

Gimli gruffly said good-bye and surprised her by kissing her hand.

Legolas drew her a little apart from the others and spoke quietly. “Your heart changed, did it not, Lady Rebecca?” she blushed as Legolas laughed quietly. “I am not surprised.” He turned serious as he took her hand, “Aragorn is right to do this, Lady Rebecca, though I will miss your gentle heart and sweet smile. Be well and do not grieve overmuch in the days ahead.” Legolas gently kissed her on the forehead.

“I’ll – I’ll try not to, Legolas. I will miss you very much. Thank you for everything. Be careful,” she whispered.

“I will,” he promised as he led her back to where Aragorn, Boromir and Thomas still waited.

Rebecca blinked back tears when she looked at Boromir and then she had to look down. She felt his hand on her shoulder as the other gently lifted her chin. “Do not cry, Lady Rebecca. I would remember you with a smile on your lips instead.”

“I’m sorry, Boromir, I don’t think that’s possible today.”

He nodded gravely, “No, I suppose it is not. However, I will carry the memory of your smile and your laughter in my heart.” He smiled down at her.

“Good-bye, Boromir. I-I miss you already.” She wiped away a few tears and started to turn away from him. Boromir gently grabbed her and gave her a brief hug and a whispered good-bye before moving down to the boats.

Rebecca stared after him to avoid looking at Aragorn and Thomas.

“Rebecca, I need to leave now,” Aragorn moved into her line of vision.

“I know, Aragorn,” Rebecca swallowed hard as she looked at him. “Be careful, I need you to come back,” she whispered, grabbing his hands.

“I will do my best, Rebecca, you know that.” Aragorn stared at her intently and then hugged her tightly, “May the grace of the Valar be with you, Rebecca Norton.” He released her and gave her a small smile, “Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Aragorn,” she said softly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Their good-byes having already been said, Thomas just silently wiped away Rebecca’s tears. They gazed at each other for a moment and then Thomas quickly embraced her. “Good-bye, Rebecca, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Thomas. Come back safely.”

Thomas nodded and swiftly walked down the bank and joined Gimli and Legolas in the boat.

Rebecca felt Brethil’s hand slip into hers and she squeezed it gratefully, but her eyes never left the three boats until they slipped around the bend and out of sight.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Reviewers: Many thanks to everyone who is reading this story and especially to those who reviewed. I appreciate the encouragement.

Elvish Translations:

Daeradar – Grandfather

Daernaneth – Grandmother

Estel - Hope

mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 14 - The River

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Note: Words in […] are elvish and are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 14 – The River

After three days in a boat, Thomas longed for the days they had spent walking. Sitting in a cramped space for endless hours was almost unbearable. The Fellowship spent much of the time drifting with the rapid current, though Aragorn had them on the water from sunrise until late into the evening.

Trees had lined the shores on both sides of the river the first couple of days. Thomas noticed that the landscape was gradually changing as they continued south. Trees were becoming sparse, bushes and grass lined the western shore. The eastern shore was brown and desolate.

Few words passed between Thomas, Legolas and Gimli for most of the day. In fact, everyone on all of the boats were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Thomas mostly thought of Rebecca, wondering how she was doing all alone in Lothlórien. He hoped that she was adjusting to being the only human in the midst of the elves. He also thought a lot about the future. Praying that he would be able to return for Rebecca, that they might be able to make a life together somewhere.

“Thomas,” Legolas reached forward and gently shook his shoulder, pulling Thomas from his thoughts. Thomas glanced back to see Legolas pointing to the west. “That is the land of Rohan.”

Thomas straightened up to see farther. “Is it a large country? Are there many people?”

Legolas looked thoughtful for a moment. “It is a large country, though not so big as Gondor. From what Aragorn has told me most of the people live far from here.”

“Are there cities, like Minas Tirith?”

“Only one that I have heard of, Edoras, there may be others,” Legolas shrugged.

“It’s a dry looking land,” Thomas commented.

“It is here,” Legolas agreed. “I have heard that there are rich grasslands and rolling hills where they run their herds of horses. Edoras is said to sit upon a high hill near the mountains.”

“Hmmm… well, when we are done with our little adventure here, you, Gimli and I will have to go and visit it!” Thomas’s laughter was joined by Legolas as Gimli jerked awake as he heard his name and he immediately reached for an axe. He grumbled under his breath about elves and men and their foolishness before slipping back into sleep. Thomas gave Legolas an amused glance over his shoulder and silence descended on their boat once again.

0-0-0

“Boromir,” Thomas suddenly asked as they were quietly eating dinner that night. “Are there cities in Gondor besides Minas Tirith?”

Boromir lifted his head and looked at Thomas with eyes that were dark and shadowed. The expression on his face was anguished, Thomas realized. Boromir quickly lowered his gaze and when he raised his eyes again he seemed normal.

“Oh yes, there are several other cities. Why do you ask?”

“Legolas and I were talking about Rohan today and I just wondered because you hadn’t mentioned any besides Minas Tirith.”

Boromir looked at Thomas for a moment before replying with a sigh. “The second largest city is Dol Amroth down on the coast. My uncle, Imrahil, is the prince of that city and the whole area.” Boromir smiled in remembrance. “He is a good man and Faramir and I spent many holidays there in our childhood.” He seemed to shake himself from his thoughts. “Then there is Pelargir, which is a large shipping port further down this river. There is Linhir…” Boromir paused, “there are others, but those are some of the larger ones and of course there are many villages scattered across my land.” His voice sounded wistful and a strange gleam was in his eye as he glanced quickly at Frodo then away into the woods.

Thomas nodded this thanks, but was startled at the look in Boromir’s eye and he glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed it. Aragorn was watching Boromir with hooded eyes as he leaned back against a rock smoking his pipe. The tension between the two men had settled into sort of an uneasy peace. Though Thomas didn’t know what was causing their conflict, he did realize that something more was going on with Boromir. He was restless and irritable, even with the hobbits.

“We need to get some rest. Thomas, you take the first watch, then Sam, Legolas and me.” Aragorn’s voice spoke quietly in the growing darkness. Thomas listened to the others settle down for the night while he perched on a rock overlooking the river. Things have changed so much in two months, he laughed inwardly, thinking back to his first time on watch. Thomas put his hand on the hilt of his sword and half turned at the slight movement he felt behind him.

“Aragorn?” he whispered.

“Very good, Thomas,” Aragorn’s voice was laced with amusement.

“Why are you up? The night is calm.”

“Yes, it is,” Aragorn agreed. “If you will remember I am often awake at night when we travel.”

Thomas snorted softly, “That’s true. How could I forget?” He laughed quietly, “So, you are not just checking up on me?”

Aragorn clasped his shoulder, “No, Thomas. I was then, but not now.” Aragorn could see Thomas grin even in the dark.

“Aragorn,” Thomas’s voice had dropped even lower, “what is the matter with Boromir?”

Hesitating briefly, Aragorn folded his arms and leaned back against the rock Thomas was sitting on. “He is feeling the lure of the Ring, Thomas. It is calling him and he is struggling against it.”

“The Ring,” Thomas mused, “that’s why he looks at Frodo like that.”

“Yes.”

“Why… I mean… what would he do with it?”

“He thinks it would help him save his people… his country,” Aragorn said softly, a hint of sorrow in his voice. “It is a powerful temptation."

Thomas’s mind raced as he considered what Aragorn was telling him. “Does it call to you?”

“Oh, yes, quite often,” Aragorn said dryly.

“Are you not tempted?”

“No one is above temptation, Thomas. However, I know the Ring lies and cannot give what it promises. I remember that and focus on the truth that nothing in life is as simple and easy as the Ring would like me to believe. If anything is worth having, it usually takes hard work and sacrifice to achieve.” Aragorn looked towards Thomas, “Have you felt the Ring tempt you, Thomas?”

Thomas blinked, “Me? Why would it do that? I’m not anyone special.”

Aragorn laughed hollowly, “The Ring does not care, it just wants someone to take it back to its master. Have you?” he asked sharply.

Thomas slowly shook his head, “No, Aragorn, I haven’t, maybe because I’m not from here.”

“No, Rebecca told me in Lothlórien that it spoke to her once,” Aragorn shrugged slightly. “Well, Thomas, be on your guard for it. Tell me if you hear it… talking about it can help.”

“All right. I wonder how Rebecca is doing. I hope she’s well.” Thomas’s voice held a trace of longing that Aragorn couldn’t miss.

“I am sure she is fine, Thomas. Rebecca is strong and the elves will take good care of her.” Aragorn slapped Thomas on the back bracingly.

“I know, I just… miss her,” Thomas sighed.

“It is hard to be away from the one you love,” Aragorn acknowledged.

Thomas opened his mouth to ask if Aragorn had someone special, but he had already turned away with a whispered good night. Thomas gazed after him, surprised at his abrupt departure, I guess he didn’t want to talk about that, he thought with amusement. He smiled and turned back to watch the river.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca was slowly adjusting to her new life without the Fellowship, but it was very, very difficult. There were few elves she could speak with as most of the Galadhrim did not speak the common tongue. Her world was reduced to Brethil, Haldir and Lord Thalion.

She had spoken with Celeborn and Galadriel at dinner the night the Fellowship departed. They wanted her to know how welcome she was and to feel free to come to them if she needed or wanted anything. Rebecca had been relieved to know that there were others she could turn to with her friends gone. Galadriel had read her heart and reminded her that many in Lothlórien would be willing to help her even if they were not humans. Rebecca had blushed and stammered her thanks.

Rebecca avoided the lawn area where the Fellowship had been camped, it was just too painful. Mealtimes were also difficult. That was when she felt the absence of everyone most keenly. They might all have been off doing various things during the day, but the Fellowship had always gathered for breakfast and supper. Brethil now took her to eat in a dining hall with a group of her friends. Rebecca knew the elleth was worried about her and didn’t want her to eat alone, but being surrounded by all the elves made it harder for her. None of Brethil’s friends spoke a word of common so it just increased Rebecca’s sense of isolation.

Lord Thalion had graciously welcomed her back for further study and Rebecca spent many long hours with him furthering her knowledge of the healing arts. While he remained stern and demanding with her as a teacher, she noticed that he was much kinder to her before and after her lessons, a fact for which she was immensely grateful.

0-0-0

Rebecca sat on the stream bank, absently caressing the pendant Thomas had given her. She missed him desperately. If she had had any questions about her love for him before, she didn’t now. It’s only been four days, she thought with something akin to despair. She wondered how she could do this for months and if she would know if something happened to him. Thoughts of the others passed through her mind and she longed to see them too, but her thoughts always came back to linger on Thomas. Rebecca sighed wearily as she stared out at the stream, watching the rays of the sun dance along the surface of the water.

A long shadow fell across her and a deep, kind voice asked, “May I join you, Lady Rebecca?”

Startled, Rebecca looked up to find Lord Celeborn standing next to her.

“My lord,” she gasped and started to scramble to her feet.

“Be at peace, child,” he motioned for her to stay seated. Rebecca sank back to the ground, watching with wide eyes as he joined her.

Lord Celeborn smiled, gazing at her intently. Rebecca dropped her eyes almost immediately and then looked up and past the elf-lord.

“How do you fare, Lady Rebecca?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Rebecca hesitated. Her physical needs were all being met, but somehow she knew that was not what Celeborn was asking. She bit her lip in thought as she looked at him with a slight frown. “Your people are very kind, Lord Celeborn.” He smiled faintly in acknowledgement. “I-I miss them, my lord. And-and I worry about them.” Rebecca stared at the ground, sighing deeply. “I’m lonely,” she whispered.

“Look at me, child,” Lord Celeborn commanded softly. He paused until she met his eyes. “You will continue to miss them, that hurt is something that only time will lessen. It will diminish.” His eyes clouded briefly in pain. “I cannot tell you not to worry, for you will not heed me. However, think on this. Does your worry help them in any way? Does it help you? Find a way to let it go and be at peace, child. It helps neither them nor you.”

Rebecca nodded, “I will try, my lord. It will be hard though.”

“Yes it is, child,” his voice was soft and gentle and his eyes were full of compassion as he studied her. “As for being lonely, that is another choice you will have to make. You have to draw on your own inner strength now that they are gone. There will always be times in your life when you are alone. You must be able to stand firm in those times and choose to live and not withdraw. Your life must go on,” he stated firmly.

Rebecca looked at him wide-eyed, slightly startled at the passion in his voice. She blinked and looked away, thinking about his words. She rubbed her forehead worriedly, trying to understand all that he was telling her. It was just too much and she hoped she could remember it all to think about later.

‘He will tell you again if you ask,’ Rebecca suddenly heard Lady Galadriel’s amused voice in her head.

‘Oh, thanks’, Rebecca shook her head.

‘You are welcome, child.’

“Are you well, Lady Rebecca?” Lord Celeborn inquired, touching her gently on the arm.

“I’m all right, my lord. I was speaking with your wife. It’s always an… interesting experience,” Rebecca said wryly.

Celeborn smiled, “For most mortals it can be difficult. You seemed confused by my words.”

Rebecca nodded slowly, “Somewhat, my lord. I think I just need some time to think about what you said,” she paused briefly. “Though, I may have questions for you later.”

“I would be surprised if you did not, child,” he smiled. “You are very young yet.” Rebecca ducked her head in embarrassment. Celeborn laughed merrily, “I often say the same to Aragorn, Lady Rebecca.”

“Really?” Rebecca’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I will have to remind him of that sometime.”

Celeborn laughed again, “Yes you will. If you do have questions about what we have discussed or anything, you will come and ask, will you not?” he gazed at her searchingly.

“Yes, my lord, I will,” Rebecca promised with a smile.

“Good,” Celeborn gracefully stood to his feet, pulling Rebecca up with him. “I believe it is time for your archery lesson is it not?”

Rebecca glanced at the sun, “Yes, I think so.”

“If you do not mind, I shall escort you.”

[“Hannon le], my lord.”

0-0-0-0-0

The Fellowship was traveling at night now. Aragorn was concerned that orcs were patrolling the eastern shore and felt it was safer to travel at night and rest during the day. There was no more drifting with the current either, they all paddled hard. Gollum had been seen and Aragorn wanted to try and pull away from the foul creature.

Thomas glanced ahead to Aragorn’s boat hoping they would be stopping soon. The sky was lightening in the east so he knew it wouldn’t be too much longer. He sighed wearily.

“Tired, lad?” Gimli asked gruffly.

“A little,” Thomas admitted. “I didn’t sleep much yesterday.”

“Ground too hard, eh?” the dwarf snorted.

“Well, of course,” Thomas chuckled softly. “No, I was thinking about…”

Gimli glanced back at him, “She’s fine lad.”

“What? Yes, I know she is,” he agreed quietly. “It was… other things that kept me awake,” not elaborating any further. The truth was every time he had closed his eyes he’d heard a voice whispering in his head, promising him things he desperately wanted if he’d only take the Ring. Ever since he and Aragorn had spoken, the Ring had started calling to him. It was as if their talk had opened a floodgate. The things it promised were so enticing - Rebecca for his very own and to send him back to his home. Even now he could faintly hear the whispers and Frodo was many yards away from their boat. Thomas shook his head angrily.

“It lies to you, Thomas,” Legolas said quietly.

“I know it does,” Thomas agreed, not even pretending he didn’t know what the elf was talking about, nor was he surprised that Legolas sensed his struggle. “It is still hard to hear it and… and to know this thing knows my deepest desires,” he sighed.

“What does it promise you?”

“To go home. Rebecca… as my wife.”

“Would you want Rebecca that way, Thomas? Or, do you want her to give her love freely?” Legolas asked gently.

Thomas shot him an irritated glare over his shoulder. “Freely, of course,” he retorted. “I know it can’t send me home if these Valar you keep talking about sent me here, but it’s hard, Legolas, to hear that and wonder if its possible.”

“It would be,” Legolas agreed. “It promises to restore my homeland to its former glory.”

“You hear it too? An elf?” Thomas turned and stared at Legolas, who only nodded grimly.

“I hear it too lad. It promises me wealth in mithril and jewels,” Gimli spoke up.

“I thought only men were affected,” Thomas muttered.

“No, all can hear its voice, though men might more easily succumb,” Legolas said thoughtfully. “You must resist its call, Thomas. Think about trying to take it from Frodo and what it would do to him… and to you. Hold on to your friendship, your loyalty and your honor.”

Thomas paled. While he had never seriously considered taking the Ring, just the thought of taking it from Frodo made him feel ill. “That helps, Legolas. I could never hurt Frodo… or any one of you.” He paused, “Well, except maybe Gimli.” He laughed quietly as Gimli turned and glared at him, though there was a glint of amusement in his deep brown eyes.

“Just you try, lad,” he growled menacingly.

“I would tread cautiously around Master Gimli, Thomas,” Legolas advised. “I saw him sharpening his axes yesterday and I would not want to run afoul of him.”

“Then I shall heed your warning. Forgive me, master dwarf!” Thomas grinned as Gimli just shook his head and muttered under his breath.

Aragorn’s boat turned toward the shore and Legolas and Thomas swung their boat in to follow it. Gimli leapt out and dragged the boat up the bank as Thomas and Legolas started unloading the supplies they would need. Thomas stretched his sore muscles carefully as he moved. He glanced up briefly when he heard the patter of approaching feet. Here they come again, they don’t give up easily, Thomas thought with amusement.

“Thomas, Merry and I were wondering if we could help you,” Pippin asked eagerly.

“Help me how?” Thomas looked at the hobbits with a puzzled frown and a slight sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

“We thought we could carry the food up to the camp for you,” Merry said with a bright, cheerful smile.

Thomas considered this as he gazed at the hobbits. Aragorn had put him in charge of the fresh food for this leg of the journey. Merry and Pippin had appeared every evening… or morning to try and sneak a few extra bites. This was a new tactic in their ongoing battle.

Thomas smiled, “Yes, I have just the thing for you two to carry.” The hobbit’s eyes lit up with anticipation. Thomas bent down and picked up his bedroll which he tossed to Pippin and his pack which he handed to Merry. “If you two will carry those, it will free my hands to carry the food,” he smiled at their disappointed expressions. “Thank you, master hobbits!” He walked up the bank to the camp laughing quietly, followed by two grumbling hobbits.

0-0-0

Aragorn sat on a rock staring broodingly out at the river. The others were still sleeping, he could hear them tossing and turning restlessly. His thoughts wandered to the days ahead. Another five days should bring them to the Falls of Rauros and then their paths would split, Boromir to Minas Tirith, the rest to Mordor. Aragorn shuddered. He did not relish the idea of going there again. Especially taking so many people with him, people he deeply cared about. It was hard enough for one person to slip in unseen, but eight? He shook his head.

Still, it must be done… attempted at least. What other choice did they have? He wished again that Gandalf were here to give him guidance. He wondered about sending Merry, Pippin and Thomas with Boromir. Aragorn frowned slightly as he thought. It would leave him with a smaller group and help Boromir on his way home. Though, he would have the two hobbits to protect. It was something to ponder. Maybe when they neared Amon Hen he would try and talk to Boromir about it.

Aragorn knew Boromir was struggling mightily against the Ring, but he did not know how to help him. Boromir would not talk to him about it, he just got angry. Aragorn sadly watched as his friend withdrew into himself, pulling away from everyone. Thomas was also hearing the whispers, however he was talking to him as well as Legolas and Gimli. As long as Thomas talked about what he was hearing, Aragorn felt he would be all right.

Sighing softly, Aragorn absently tapped out the remains of the pipe he had been smoking. His eyes snapped into focus as he saw movement across the river. He quickly glanced at Legolas, who was on watch, and saw that he was already alert. He had an arrow nocked and ready, though the distance was too great, even for Legolas. Aragorn crept soundlessly to Legolas’s side.

“Can you see what it is?”

“Orcs. A small party…eleven.”

“Scouts,” Aragorn said grimly.

Legolas nodded, not taking his eyes off the far shore.

“This is a long way north for them to patrol. Yet, I feared it.”

“They may be down from Dol Guldur,” Legolas spat out bitterly.

Aragorn clasped his friend’s arm briefly. “They might be, Legolas. When the Ring is destroyed, that place too will be destroyed and your forest will be renewed.”

Legolas nodded, a fierce and terrible gleam in his eye. “I will see it destroyed, Aragorn, every stone torn down and crushed.” Legolas stared at the ground for a moment and then stared back across the river with a sigh. “No, that is not my task,” he whispered. “Others will bear that burden… and will pay a terrible price,” he added sadly.

Aragorn nodded and again clasped the elf’s arm. “I am sorry, Legolas. Let’s wake the others. We need to move on as soon as it is full dark.”

They woke the others quietly, telling them of the orcs across the river. They ate quickly before silently slipping their boats into the water and disappearing into the night.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca took a deep breath and waited for Haldir’s command. She stood alertly, watching him from the corner of her eye while she gripped her bow with her left hand, her right hand poised to grab an arrow from her quiver.

“Now.”

She swiftly pulled an arrow from her quiver, nocked it, drew it back and released it in one smooth motion. Rebecca repeated the action until all fifteen arrows were in the target sixty yards away. She lowered her bow with a smile and looked at Haldir.

He looked at her blankly before turning and walking toward the target. Rebecca hurried after him, a look of confusion on her face. “Did I do something wrong, Haldir?” she asked worriedly.

“No, your form was… good but not perfect. Three times you did not bring the draw back far enough. That will cost you some distance on your shots. Twice your arrow caught on your quiver and that slowed you down,” Haldir looked down at her and this time Rebecca caught the faint sparkle of amusement in his eye.

She smiled at him, “I think it was better than yesterday, wasn’t it?”

“Yes it was, Lady Rebecca,” Haldir bowed slightly. “Now, let’s see how your accuracy was. Do you notice anything?”

Rebecca looked at the arrows sticking in the target. “Well, except for these two here,” she pointed at two that were stuck down in the lower right corner, “all of these are grouped in the upper left side of center. I think I need to adjust and aim a little further down and to the right.”

“Good, I agree. Those two arrows were the two that caught in your quiver… it threw your timing off. That is why they are not grouped with the other arrows. It is so important to be able to do the little things correctly – it is all part of the whole.”

Rebecca nodded and started pulling the arrows from the target. “There are so many things that go into this. A lot more than I ever realized, it looked sort of easy.” Haldir laughed lightly. “I know it’s not, Haldir. I’m just saying how it looked. I mean it’s a bent piece of wood, a sting and another piece of wood. How hard could it be?” She laughed with him. “Well, anyway I learned it’s a lot harder than it looks!”

Haldir nodded with a smile, “Indeed it is, Lady Rebecca.”

As they walked back to the edge of the field, Rebecca thought of a question she had wanted to ask, “Haldir, that giant bird…”

“Eagle,” Haldir corrected.

Rebecca nodded, “Yes, the eagle that landed here this morning. Are there more of them? Are there other giant birds in Middle Earth? Other giant animals? Other…” she stopped as Haldir laid a single finger lightly on her lips.

“Lady Rebecca,” his eyes sparkled with amusement, a faint smile gracing his lips, “You sound like an excited elfling!”

Rebecca ducked her head in embarrassment for a moment before looking up at the elf steadily with a smile. “I’m sort of an elfling, Haldir, both in age and in experience in your world.” Her eyes twinkled mischievously, “Though, I don’t have pointed ears,” Rebecca fingered her ears thoughtfully as she watched Haldir.

Haldir’s smile widened and he bowed slightly, “I stand corrected, Lady Rebecca, you are an elfling. Do you want me to treat you as one?” he raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Rebecca sighed, “No, Haldir. I really just wanted to know about the eagle.”

“Very well,” Haldir nodded. “There are many giant eagles that live in the northern parts of the Misty Mountains. They are messengers used by the Valar and do not usually involve themselves in the affairs of elves and men.”

“Messengers, huh? I wonder why it came here.”

“I know not. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel will tell me if I need to know. As for other ‘giant’ animals, the only one I can think of would be a mumakil.”

“What’s a mum-mumakil?” Rebecca stumbled over the unfamiliar word.

“I have never seen one,” Haldir admitted, his brow furrowed in thought. “I have been told they are grey animals that stand sixty to seventy feet tall. They have a long nose and six horns around their mouths.”

“Hmmm, sounds sort of like a really big elephant with more tusks.” Rebecca grinned, thinking fondly of the elephants she had often seen at the zoo.

“Now, Lady Rebecca, you need to return to practice,” Haldir motioned for her to continue.

“Yes, my lord,” she bowed slightly and turned to resume her practice with a grin.

0-0-0

“That was beautiful, Brethil! I’ve never heard music like that before,” Rebecca looked at her friend in awe.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Brethil smiled. “I am glad that you enjoyed it.”

“You have a beautiful voice, Brethil,” Rebecca continued, gazing up at the elleth as they walked home. “And the way you played that harp was… incredible. The sound was so… I don’t know… pure and perfect.” She shook her head in frustration at her inability to describe Brethil’s musical talent.

“Again, thank you, Rebecca. The Valar have blessed me with these gifts. Would you…” she stopped as Haldir stepped into their path.

“Excuse me, Lady Rebecca, Brethil,” his tone was formal, his gaze intense.

“Am I late?” Rebecca cried, stealing a glance at the sun.

“No, Lady Rebecca, you are not. The Lord and Lady have requested your presence.” Haldir swept his arm out to the side indicating she was to come immediately.

Rebecca gave Brethil a nervous smile and headed off with Haldir at her side.

“Do you know why they want to see me, Haldir?” Rebecca asked, glancing up at the tall elf from the corner of her eye.

“No. They do not usually tell me these things, Lady Rebecca.”

“Oh.”

“No messengers have arrived except for the eagle a week ago,” Haldir said quietly as they ascended the stairs.

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Haldir. I was afraid maybe they had bad news.”

Haldir took her hand and squeezed it gently, “I know you did, Lady Rebecca.”

They finished the climb in silence. Reaching the platform where she had first met them, Rebecca saw Celeborn and Galadriel waiting for her. She smiled nervously as she approached, “Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel,” she bowed. “Haldir said…” she turned slightly to glance at him. As she did Rebecca stopped, stunned at who was standing just beyond Haldir. She blinked rapidly and all the color drained from her face as she grabbed Haldir’s arm to steady herself.

“Gandalf?” she whispered. She frowned in confusion and disbelief. What kind of a joke was this? Gandalf was dead. This person looked like Gandalf only he was dressed in white not in grey.

‘Peace, child, all is well,’ Galadriel’s soothing voice spoke in her head, but Rebecca shook her head angrily. “Haldir, what is going on? I saw him die. Is he a ghost?” She wrapped her arms around Haldir and buried her face in his chest. Rebecca felt his strong arms embrace her.

“I do not know how it happened, Lady Rebecca, but Gandalf has returned to life! It is a time for celebration. Do not fear this,” Haldir’s voice calmed and soothed her.

“Will you not greet a friend, young lady?”

Rebecca swallowed hard at the sound of Gandalf’s voice and then slowly raised her head to look at him. His voice sounded the same and as she looked she realized his eyes were the same piercing blue as before, though somehow they seemed as if they could see into her very soul much like Galadriel’s. Rebecca looked him over carefully from the security of Haldir’s arms and she noticed that everything about him was white – hair, beard, robe and staff. Haldir released her and she gazed at Gandalf uncertainly. “Is it really you, Gandalf?” she whispered.

“Yes, it is,” he nodded with a smile.

“How? I-I saw you fall,” Rebecca’s eyes filled with tears at the memory.

“I did young lady, but my task was not yet completed, so I was sent back.”

Rebecca nodded, still too stunned to say much. She glanced up as Celeborn and Galadriel joined them. Galadriel caressed her cheek gently and Rebecca felt a sense of peace wash over her. She smiled at her gratefully. Celeborn gazed at Rebecca gravely for a moment. “Gandalf has things he needs to discuss with you. Are you able to listen now, or should we wait until later?” he inquired.

“I’m all right now, my lord,” she gave him a small bow and smiled at Galadriel. “I was just a tiny bit surprised,” she said dryly.

Celeborn laughed softly, “Indeed. Come then.” Rebecca followed him to a small alcove off the platform. Galadriel, Gandalf and, to her surprise, Haldir also joined them, taking the seat next to her. Rebecca gave him a sheepish smile as she sat down, but he just bowed slightly. When all were seated, Gandalf gazed at Rebecca intently for a long moment and she met his eyes steadily.

“You have changed much since last I saw you, Lady Rebecca,” Gandalf sounded strangely pleased.

Rebecca furrowed her brow thoughtfully. “Well, many things have happened since we last talked, Gandalf. One of which was watching someone you care about falling to a fiery death. I’ll never forget that, Gandalf, never.” She closed her eyes and shook her head in pain.

“I imagine not.”

“Being here among the elves,” she smiled at Celeborn, Galadriel and Haldir, “has been wonderful. They have taught me many things. I’m learning to be a healer, Gandalf. Haldir is teaching me archery.” Rebecca paused and looked at the wizard with a sad smile, “A-Aragorn and Boromir taught me to use a sword. I learned a lot from all of them,” she added quietly.

“They learned from you as well, child,” Galadriel reminded her.

Rebecca smiled.

Gandalf reached over and clasped Rebecca’s hand. “It sounds like you are well prepared for what we have ahead of us.” He smiled at her confused expression.

“What do you mean?”

“You are coming with me, young lady.”

“What! Where?” Rebecca’s voice rose and she looked from Gandalf to Celeborn to Galadriel and back to Gandalf.

“I mean to meet up with the Fellowship.”

Rebecca pulled her hand away from Gandalf and simply stared at him. Finally, she shook her head, “I can’t go,” she whispered. “I want to, but I cannot.”

“Why not, Lady Rebecca?” Celeborn looked at her questioningly, though Galadriel’s eyes were full of understanding.

“Because Aragorn left me here to keep me safe, my lord. I didn’t agree with him… I still don’t, but it doesn’t seem right to leave now. I think… I think it would disappoint him.” Rebecca laughed hollowly. “I can’t believe I’m even saying this,” she muttered.

Gandalf chuckled, “The Valar chose you well, Lady Rebecca. You have a good heart, full of courage, honor and loyalty. Aragorn had his reasons for leaving you here; Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel have told me much of his thoughts on the matter. However, Aragorn did not have the benefit of my counsel, though you staying here may indeed have been part of the plan of the Valar. I learned many things while I was away and one was that you need to be with Aragorn. It was not an accident that put you and Thomas with the Fellowship, Rebecca. There is a purpose, though the full purpose was not revealed to me and what I do know I may not share with you.” A hint of sorrow briefly filled his eyes.

Rebecca listened eagerly, her heart growing lighter as Gandalf talked. “When are we leaving? I can pack quickly!”

Gandalf smiled, “Probably in a few days. I have scouts out looking for them now.”

“How will we catch up? They took boats and are days ahead of us.” Rebecca asked with a puzzled frown.

“Let me worry about that. Get packed and be prepared to leave at a moments notice.”

Rebecca’s eyes sparkled, “Thank you, Gandalf.” She stood and bowed to Celeborn and Galadriel, smiling brightly as she headed for the door. “Oh, Gandalf,” she said, turning around briefly, “you have to explain this to Aragorn.” Laughter followed her out the door.

Lost in thought, it took Rebecca several minutes to realize Haldir was escorting her. She stopped abruptly. “Haldir, I wanted to apologize for… umm… clinging to you like that.” She looked up at the tall elf uncertainly. “I just needed someone to hang on to right then and you were there. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“I was not offended, Lady Rebecca,” he responded quietly. “You needed a friend at that time and I am glad that I was there.” Haldir smiled briefly as he gestured for her to continue walking.

[“Hannon le,] Haldir, it meant a lot to me.”

“It was my pleasure, Lady Rebecca.”

0-0-0-0-0

“Watch out!” Sam’s voice cried out just as the edge of the boat hit the rock. Aragorn back paddled as hard as he could and tried to swing the boat around the rock. He could hear the sound of rapids and realized they were approaching Sarn Gebir. How did we get here so fast, Aragorn wondered with despair.

“Legolas, Boromir,” he called urgently, “we must make for shore. There are rapids ahead!” The current pulled at the boats, dragging them downstream as they tried to paddle back up and across the flow of the river.

The first arrow struck Boromir’s boat, lodging near Merry’s hand. He cried out in surprise, almost dropping his paddle. Suddenly, arrows filled the air around the three boats.

“Orcs!” Legolas hissed.

“Get down!” Aragorn pushed Frodo down, but an arrow struck him in the back, bouncing off harmlessly when it hit his mithril shirt. Another arrow passed through Aragorn’s elvish cloak before falling into the water.

Arrows continued to fall around them as they struggled to get out of the rapids and across the river to the western shore. The elven cloaks and boats helped shield them from the eyes of the orcs, for no arrows caused any damage to the Fellowship.

Thomas concentrated on paddling the boat and ignoring the sounds of the orcs and the whoosh of the arrows. The screeches of the orcs brought up images of Moria. All of his training in Lothlórien couldn’t prepare him for the sounds of orcs. Or the sight and smell of them, he thought shuddering.

Gradually they pulled out of range of the eastern shore and the arrows stopped. As they pulled into a small cove, Legolas leapt from the boat and strung his bow. Thomas looked at him in surprise wondering if he could shoot that far with the bow that Galadriel had given him.

Silence fell on the group as they felt an eerie presence emanating from the far side of the river. Thomas huddled with the hobbits and laid his hands comfortingly on Merry and Pippin, though he too was shaking from the sense of evil that he felt.

Aragorn and Legolas peered through the bushes, trying to see if they were being followed and to figure out what was causing the evil they all felt. A large shadowy winged figure flew across the sky, dimly lit by the moon. Legolas swiftly lifted his bow and with a cry of Elbereth Githoniel! released his arrow. There was a wail, a distant thud and then the night fell still.

“What was that?”

“Did you kill it?”

“Are there more?”

The hobbits all spoke at once, breaking the stillness that had fallen.

“Be silent,” Aragorn hissed harshly. He and Legolas moved silently past the hobbits to join Boromir and Gimli. “Have either of you seen anything like that before?” Aragorn whispered softly. Gimli shook his head. Boromir started to speak and then paused before continuing. “I have not seen anything like that, Aragorn. Though, I have felt a similar evil presence before.”

“When? Where?”

“Last June, when-when,” Boromir paused and took a deep breath, “the black riders crossed the bridge at Osgiliath. It was horrible.” He shuddered and rubbed his hand across his eyes.

“Black riders?” Aragorn murmured. “It did have that feel, Boromir. He glanced at Legolas who was watching the eastern shore. “Do you see anything, Legolas?” He shook his head. “Then I suggest we all take what rest we can and see what the morning brings.”

Aragorn spoke reassuringly to the hobbits and Thomas. Soon everyone, except Legolas and Aragorn had settled down to try and sleep for the remainder of the night.

Dawn found the Fellowship in their boats slinking along the edge of the river avoiding the rocks. They kept an eye on the eastern shore watching for signs of the orcs, but it remained unnaturally still. Past the rapids they were able to move swiftly and Aragorn kept them on the water until full dark. They rested uneasily in and near the boats before pushing on early in the morning. They passed the Argonath, the giant statues of ancient kings, in early afternoon.

Near nightfall they reached the Falls of Rauros and could go no further. In the morning they would go their separate ways. Boromir on the western side of the river to Minas Tirith, the rest would cross the river and head east into Mordor.

They camped at Amon Hen.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Reviewers: Many thanks to everyone who is reading this story and especially to those who reviewed. I answered everyone by email when I could find an address. I appreciate the encouragement.

Elvish Translations:

Hannon le – I thank thee
mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 15 - Boromir

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Note: Words in [...] are elvish and are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 15 - Boromir


Rebecca stopped abruptly. She stood staring down the practice field, “Haldir, what is that?” she whispered, looking up at him in horror.

“That, Lady Rebecca, is your new target,” Haldir gazed intently down at Rebecca with his arms folded across his chest.

“But, but it’s shaped like…”

“Like an orc… or a man.”

“Why?”

“Do you think you will be shooting at targets when you leave, Lady Rebecca?” Haldir asked with a slight frown.

Rebecca stared blankly at him for a moment before striding past him to the firing line with a clenched jaw. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and with a deep breath, nocked it. Her arm started shaking as she raised the bow to aim it.

A firm hand reached out and grasped her wrist and lowered the bow. “Cease, Lady Rebecca,” Haldir said quietly, carefully removing the arrow from the string.

Her eyes flashing with anger, Rebecca looked up at the tall elf. “Why did you do that?” she demanded. “I can do this. I have to, Haldir.” She stared at him with determination in her eyes, though clearly she was still angry and upset.

“Calm yourself, Lady Rebecca,” Haldir said sternly, still holding her wrist. “Take a deep breath and relax.”

Rebecca tried to pull her wrist away, but Haldir just gazed at her with an eyebrow raised questioningly. She ducked her head and took a couple of deep breaths, mumbling to herself about elves and their strength. After several minutes and more deep breaths, she looked up at Haldir with an apologetic smile. [“Goheno nín,] Haldir.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “Are you ready to listen now?” his icy blue eyes bored into hers.

“Yes, I am,” she responded quietly, gazing at him steadily.

“You cannot let your fear or anger control you, Lady Rebecca. Your aim will be off, you will waste your arrows, and you will certainly endanger your comrades.”

Rebecca looked at the target uncertainly before gazing back at Haldir. “How is it possible?”

“You focus on the things you can control. Your stance, your grip, your draw, your aim, and your release. Everything else you must let go.”

Rebecca bit her lip in concentration, “And then what, Haldir?”

“You kill the enemy,” Haldir stated matter-of-factly. He looked down at Rebecca with an unreadable expression. “That is why you have been learning archery, is it not?”

“Yes, Haldir,” she answered firmly as she looked back at the target with narrowed eyes. “I’d like to try again.”

He handed her the arrow, stepping back and motioning for her to proceed.

Swiftly nocking the arrow, Rebecca raised the bow to aim it. She paused uncertainly and glanced at Haldir, “The head or the chest, Haldir?”

“The chest is a better target for you. After you have a few hundred years of experience, you may aim for an eye,” he said dryly.

Rebecca stared at him seeing the slight twitch of his lips and she gave him a half smile before turning back to the target. Blocking everything else out she raised her bow again and quickly released the arrow. It flew straight and true, piercing the ‘orc’ in the middle of the chest.

“Well shot,” Haldir said encouragingly. “However, a little more to the left… that is where the heart is located.” Rebecca nodded. “Now go ahead and empty your quiver.”

As she had practiced for weeks Rebecca rapidly, but carefully fired each arrow in her quiver. Every arrow landed in the chest area, though several were to the right side. She let out a deep sigh as she lowered her bow.

“Are you satisfied, Lady Rebecca?”

“No,” Rebecca shook her head vigorously, “too many are off target. I need to practice this a lot, Haldir.”

He nodded approvingly. “I have something I want to give you first.” He led the way to a small shed near the practice field. Reaching inside he brought out a beautiful bow. It was the same size as the one she was holding, but was obviously new. It was decorated in the same manner as Haldir’s, with the same intricate carvings and designs along the length of it. “The bow you have been using is a training bow for elflings. I wanted you to have your own bow when you leave.” Haldir bowed slightly as he presented it to her.

Rebecca looked at the bow in awe as she took it from him.[ “Hannon le,”] she whispered. She gently rubbed her hands over the designs and felt the grip. “It fits perfectly!”

“I had it made just for you,” he acknowledged, “so, yes the grip is tailored for your hand.”

“The design is like yours!” she exclaimed.

“Yes,” he laughed, “it is my favorite.”

Rebecca smiled, [“Hannon le,] Haldir.”

“There is also a matching quiver,” he handed it to her. “It holds 24 arrows, I think you might need them,” he said soberly.

“I think so too. Lady Galadriel did not have me learn this just for fun.”

Haldir nodded and took her hand. “Before we continue practicing, I would tell you a few things. As much as you have prepared yourself here, nothing can prepare you for being in a real battle, Lady Rebecca. The sound of orcs and dying men and elves, the smell of blood and death, watching people dying. It is truly a horrible thing.”

Rebecca nodded grimly, “I-I saw it in Moria, Haldir. I helped Thomas kill an orc. I had its black blood on my hands for hours until I could get them clean.”

Haldir looked at her with surprise on his face. “I did not know you had done that. You have had a small experience with battle then. Hopefully, that will help you in the days ahead. Remember to focus on the things we have practiced and the things you can control.”

“I’ll try, Haldir. Hopefully, it will be like with my healing training and just take over.”

“Indeed,” Haldir nodded. “Now it is time to try out your new bow.”

Smiling eagerly, Rebecca walked back to the firing line, stringing the bow as she went.

0-0-0-0-0

It was fast approaching noon and the Fellowship was getting ready to cross the river. Aragorn felt that few orcs would be around during the brightest part of the day, so they had lingered. Boromir had delayed his own departure as well, choosing to leave when the rest departed.

“Let’s be off,” Aragorn called.

“We have to wait for Frodo,” Pippin responded, not bothering to look up.

“Where is he?” Aragorn asked sharply.

Pippin looked up in surprise, “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “He wandered off about thirty minutes ago.”

Everyone stared at Pippin and looked in the direction he was pointing, which was up the hill into the woods.

“Where’s Boromir?” Thomas asked with a sinking feeling.

For a moment it was quiet and then all of them seemed to panic. Merry and Pippin tore off into the woods in one direction, Sam in another, while Gimli followed Legolas in a third. None heeded Aragorn’s yells to come back.

“Come on,” Aragorn muttered to Thomas as he tried to read any tracks Frodo might have left. It was impossible and the two of them quickly headed up the hill, scanning for any sign of the hobbit. Aragorn stopped by a fallen log and looked closely at some leaves that Thomas could see had been disturbed recently. “There was a scuffle here,” he said quietly. “Do not move, Thomas.” The ranger looked the ground over carefully, dismayed at what he read. Boromir had attacked Frodo that much was clear. Did he take the Ring, Aragorn wondered in despair. Wait… Frodo had gotten free somehow. “Come on, Thomas.” Aragorn sprinted off in the direction the tracks led.

Thomas followed closely, wondering what Aragorn had seen on the ground, frustrated at his inability to read the signs that they were evidently following. But Legolas was a good teacher and he knew that someday he would be able to do so. He turned his attention back to Aragorn who had slowed again to check something before moving on. The trail led further up towards the crest of the hill. “He is running scared,” Aragorn said grimly, as he paused.

“Frodo?”

Aragorn nodded and ran on. Entering a small clearing littered with broken statues and ruins of an ancient building, they stopped again.

“Where did he go?” Aragorn asked in frustration, desperately seeking for a sight of the hobbit. Moving slowly toward the ruin, he found more sign of the hobbit. “These tracks lead back down toward the river,” he exclaimed with relief.

A faint sound suddenly reached their ears. “Orcs!” Aragorn exclaimed in horror, glancing at Thomas. “Where is Frodo? Where are the others?” he asked, drawing his sword.

Shaking his head, Thomas drew his sword as well, “I don’t know, Aragorn. Hopefully, they’re safe.” He took a deep shaky breath, the stench of the orcs now hitting them.

“Stay at my back, Thomas and remember what you have been taught. You will not let me down,” Aragorn stared intently at Thomas for a moment before turning back to the woods when orcs burst through the bushes.

Charging across the clearing en mass the orcs attacked the pair head on. Clashing steel and the roar of orcs filled the woods. Aragorn and Thomas stood back to back to protect each other as they fought.

Thomas reacted instinctively to defend himself, relying on all he had been taught by Boromir and Aragorn. Soon though, he went on the offensive, probing the orcs for weaknesses… finding many in the mindless creatures that relied on numbers and brute strength. There are two different kinds of orcs here, he realized. The majority was the small ones he had seen in Moria but there were a few larger ones that seemed to be in charge. The small orcs were easily killed, but the larger ones were not.

Thomas slashed an orc across the chest, turning and chopping off the hand of the orc coming at him from the side. He turned back to the first orc and cut off his head while the second orc suddenly swiped him across the upper arm with a dagger he hadn’t seen.

“Damn!” he yelled as he pushed his sword through the creature’s heart.

“Are you all right?” Aragorn called.

“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth, continuing to fight while blood flowed freely from the gaping wound.

Aragorn was making short work of the orcs he faced. He had too much experience to be concerned for himself, though he was never careless with any enemy he faced. He was, however, concerned about Thomas, especially now that he was apparently injured. There were so many orcs and Thomas was so inexperienced. But there was nothing he could do about it now, all he could do was keep fighting and hope that Thomas could do the same, he thought grimly.

Aragorn’s sword kept moving, blocking the awkward thrusts of the orcs and then moving decisively in for killing blows. He parried another blow aimed at his head, responding by slashing the orc across its throat. He quickly stabbed one of the large orcs through the heart while dancing out of the way of another sword. And so he fought on.

Ducking under the blade of a large orc, Thomas plunged his sword into the creature’s stomach causing black blood to spurt all over his face, temporarily blinding him. Angrily he wiped it away as he pulled out his sword. He hamstrung the orc creeping up next to Aragorn before stabbing it in the back.

“Thomas, look out!” Aragorn pushed him aside and quickly killed two orcs that had taken advantage of Thomas’s momentary blindness and focus on his other side. “Thanks,” he grunted as he continued fighting the orcs that surrounded him.

Aragorn glanced around the clearing noticing that the number of orcs had dropped considerably. He could not see behind him, but he guessed there were fewer than ten orcs left. He heard Thomas panting heavily and he knew for sure he was wounded, but knowing that Thomas had done very well so far and that if he could just last a little longer, he would be able to help him. Aragorn grimly turned his focus back on killing the remaining orcs. They had to find the others. They had to find Frodo.

0-0-0-0-0

“Ah, just who I was looking for.”

Rebecca looked up, startled, at the sound of Gandalf’s voice. “My lord,” she bowed slightly. This was the first time she had seen him since they had met two days ago.

Gandalf’s eyes twinkled for a moment. “You do not have to call me ‘my lord’ Lady Rebecca. Gandalf or even Mithrandir will do just fine.”

Rebecca raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I call Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel ‘my lord’ and ‘my lady’. I think I should give a powerful wizard who comes back from the dead the same respect.”

“There is that,” Gandalf acknowledged with a smile. “However, I would prefer that you not call me ‘my lord’. I know you respect me regardless of what you call me.” His kind, yet piercing blue eyes gazed at Rebecca expectantly.

“All right, you win,” she smiled, “Gandalf it is. I’ve never heard you called Mithrandir before.”

“I am called that in Gondor and by some of the elves.”

“It means… grey something doesn’t it?”

“Grey pilgrim. You have been learning elvish?”

Rebecca laughed, “Its hard not to! I’ve been here a long time and very few elves speak common. All of the herbs, Lord Thalion has been teaching me are in elvish, of course.” She shrugged, “Mostly what I know are greetings, herbs and a few basic phrases. By the way,” she looked Gandalf up and down, “Mithrandir doesn’t fit you anymore,” she laughed.

Gandalf shook his head with an amused smile. “Indeed it does not. Where were you going when I interrupted you?”

“I was just heading home.”

“Are you done for the day?”

“No, I have to meet Haldir this afternoon for archery. Why?” Rebecca looked at him questioningly.

“You need to cancel that. We have something we need to do.”

Rebecca nodded slowly, she knew she needed the practice and she enjoyed the time she spent with Haldir. Yet, she also knew that Gandalf must have something important in mind. “All right, Gandalf,” she furrowed her brow in thought. “I need to put away my stuff,” she lifted the books on herbs she was carrying, “and then figure out how to let Haldir know.”

“I shall accompany you, Lady Rebecca,” Gandalf gestured for her to lead the way.

“What are we going to do?”

“You will see,” he answered mildly.

“Always so mysterious, Gandalf,” Rebecca laughed.

“Patience is a good quality to have, young lady.”

“Yes, yes it is,” she responded quietly with a far away look in her eye. Gandalf placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as they walked the rest of the way to her talan in silence.

Setting her books on the table, Rebecca told Gandalf to make himself comfortable while she went to see if Brethil could take a message to Haldir. Rebecca returned to find him sitting on her couch, smoking his pipe and looking lost in thought. “Brethil’s going to take the message, Gandalf. Now what?”

Gandalf inhaled deeply as he studied her, “Hmmm… I think that you… no,” he shook his head, “now is not the time.”

Rebecca looked at him in confusion, “What?”

“Never mind, young lady. Now, have you ever ridden a horse?”

“No, never,” Rebecca shook her head, staring at him with a hint of fear in her brown eyes.

“I thought not. You are about to learn, come along.” Gandalf got to his feet, grabbing his staff as he strode out the door.

Rebecca stared after him, the thought of riding a horse filling her with anxiety.

“Hurry, Lady Rebecca, we have a lot to do!” Gandalf called.

Rebecca hurried after him, mumbling under her breath about wizards, horses and Middle Earth in general with its lack of cars which was forcing her to ride a horse in the first place.

The stables were quite a distance from Caras Galadhon and, in fact, Rebecca had not known it even existed.

“These elves rarely use horses,” Gandalf explained, “as they seldom leave Lothlórien. However, on occasion they need to travel somewhere quickly and these animals are used.”

Rebecca nodded absently as she looked at the horses in the corral, the first horses she had ever seen up close, amazed at how big they were. She turned to Gandalf with a resigned sigh, “All right, Gandalf, tell me what I have to do.” She leaned back against the wooden railings with her arms crossed.

Gandalf’s eyes sparkled with amusement though he did not smile. “Do not be frightened, Lady Rebecca, these are elven-trained horses and will not let you fall.” Rebecca let out a deep sigh of relief. “Also, young lady, when we leave here, you will be riding with me on my horse and neither he nor I will let you fall.”

“Which one is yours?” Rebecca turned to look at the horses.

“He is not here, he comes at my call,” he informed her gravely, “he is a very special horse. I want you to have at least some experience riding before we leave. It will probably be a long trip.” Gandalf called softly to the horses and a bay colored horse with a dark mane and tail trotted to the rail, whickering.

“Hello, friend,” Gandalf greeted the horse, letting it sniff his hand before he rubbed its nose and patted its neck. “Come here, Lady Rebecca,” he said quietly. With a grimace, Rebecca joined him. “Let him smell you,” he directed. She raised her hand hesitantly as she had seen Gandalf do, jumping slightly as the warm breath of the horse touched her skin. She smiled in delight as she stroked its nose, “His nose is so soft,” she murmured.

“Now that you see there is nothing to be afraid of, let’s go for a ride.”

Rebecca stared at him and then the horse with narrowed eyes. “All right, Gandalf. Where’s the saddle?”

“The Galadhrim do not use saddles, nor does my horse. We will ride without one.”

“You’re making this more and more fun all the time, Gandalf,” she said irritably.

Gandalf just smiled and opened the gate. Rebecca followed closely, peering at the horse from a place of safety behind the wizard.

“Does he have a name?” she whispered nervously.

“His name is Beleg,” answered one of the elves working in the stable.

“That’s a nice name.” Beleg snorted and nodded his head as if he agreed.

“No more delaying, Lady Rebecca,” Gandalf looked down at her sternly. He grasped her wrist firmly bringing her hand up to stroke the neck of the horse. “He will not hurt you. You must trust this horse, or any horse you ride. Otherwise they will sense your unease and will be nervous as well,” Gandalf spoke calmly and soothingly as Rebecca continued petting the horse. He released her hand and stepped back, leaving her alone with the animal. She continued to pat the horse and when it did not move she grew bolder, wondering if horses liked to be talked to like dogs. She started to whisper to Beleg and noticed his ears flicking back and forth and his head turned towards her. Rebecca decided that maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, riding horses had always looked fun in movies. She turned and smiled at Gandalf.

“I think you are ready now,” he stated.

Rebecca nodded firmly while still biting her lip nervously.

Gandalf moved past her and gathering a handful of his mane he gracefully mounted Beleg. Rebecca stared at him in astonishment, amazed that someone so old could get on a horse like that and wondering how she was supposed to do it. She looked around for something to stand on.

“Take my hand, Lady Rebecca.”

Looking up, Rebecca found Gandalf had his hand extended down to her. “You’re going to lift me up?” she asked dubiously.

“Yes.”

Rebecca shook her head slightly, but held out her hand and found herself hauled up in front of Gandalf with apparent ease. “You’re stronger than you look,” she observed.

Gandalf laughed, “Things are not always what they appear to be. Are you comfortable?”

“Hmmm… I guess so…” she shifted slightly on the horse. “It feels strange though.”

“I am sure it does,” Gandalf said dryly. He put his arm around his waist and clucked to the horse which moved out obediently at a slow walk. Rebecca took a sharp indrawn breath, clutching at Gandalf’s arm. One of the elves opened the gate and they walked along one of the paths leading into the forest. Rebecca soon relaxed, enjoying the ride and she loosened her hold on Gandalf.

“This is better than walking, Gandalf,” she laughed.

“Yes, indeed. Shall we go a little faster?”

“All-all right,” Rebecca nodded, torn between the fun of the ride and her fear of falling.

Gandalf urged Beleg into a trot and when Rebecca did not tighten her grip, into a canter. She immediately gripped his arm though a smile spread across her face. She glanced back over her shoulder at him with her eyes shinning with glee.

“Faster?” he asked with a smile. She nodded.

Beleg bolted into a gallop and he tore down the path winding through the trees. Rebecca clung to Gandalf, but she also laughed in exhilaration. After a couple of miles, Gandalf spoke to the horse and it slowed gradually, coming to a stop in a small clearing.

“How was that, Lady Rebecca?” he asked seriously, though when Rebecca looked back she could see amusement in his eyes as he studied her.

“It was fun, Gandalf. Can I ride my own horse when we leave?” she begged.

Gandalf laughed shortly as he turned the horse around to head back. “You amaze me, young lady. To go from being scared of horses one minute to wanting your own the next!” He shook his head. “However, I am afraid the answer is no, for none of these fine elven horses would be able to keep up with mine. Also, riding with me one time does not give you the experience you need to ride alone.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Rebecca said wistfully. “Your horse goes… faster than Beleg?”

“As I said, he is a special horse. One of the Mearas, lord of all horses. Few mortals have ever ridden one, only the kings of Rohan ride them in these days. However, Shadowfax will come at my need.”

“Will he let me ride him?”

“If I ask him.”

They returned Beleg to the corral with kind words of thanks before walking slowly back to Rebecca’s talan.

“Gandalf, when do you think we will be leaving?”

“In a day or so, I believe,” his piercing blue eyes became dark and distant. “Something has happened, though I know not what.”

Rebecca looked at him in growing concern. “What do you mean?”

“That is all I can tell you for I truly do not know anything else. I just sense something is amiss, as does Galadriel.”

Rebecca groaned and buried her head in hands, her heart racing. She looked at him desperately, “Why don’t we leave now? We could…” she stopped and looked away with a sigh. “Never mind… I forgot that you don’t know where they are.”

“No, I do not. My scouts will find them soon.”

“What scouts?”

“I have sent eagles out to look for them.”

“How come they haven’t found them already?” she asked impatiently. “They are traveling down a river!”

“Young lady, you yourself know how well Aragorn can hide when he wants to,” Gandalf chided her sternly. Rebecca nodded miserably. “Also, they may be traveling at night. The scouts will find them, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca looked away to blink back tears that suddenly filled her eyes. Thomas will be fine, they’ll all be fine, she said to herself, and I will not cry. “I’m going home now, Gandalf. I’ll see you later.” She hurried off, leaving Gandalf staring after her, an expression of sorrow on his face.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn and Thomas were wiping blood off their swords when they heard its call. “The horn of Gondor, Boromir needs help,” Aragorn cried, taking off at a dead run with Thomas right on his heels. He soon fell behind, the loss of blood from his wound slowing him and making him slightly dizzy. He followed the sound of Aragorn, a short distance ahead of him, and the distant sound of fighting which, to his dismay, soon stopped.

Aragorn closed his eyes in pain. His friend, Boromir, was sitting against a tree, his body riddled with arrows. The area around him littered with the bodies of orcs he had slain. He slowly approached, tears filling his eyes. Boromir opened pain-filled eyes, gazing at Aragorn as he dropped to his knees beside him.

“Forgive me, Aragorn. I-I have failed you,” he whispered raggedly.

Aragorn took his hand, “There is nothing to forgive, my brother,” he stated firmly, looking at Boromir with sorrow.

Boromir shook his head slightly, wincing at the pain. “I-I tried to take the Ring.”

“Yes, I know, Boromir,” Aragorn responded quietly, gently wiping the hair out of Boromir’s face. “Yet, you fought bravely here.”

Thomas ran up and dropped to his knees on the other side of Boromir, tears streaming down his face. “Boromir,” he choked out with a sob. He wiped tears away with the back of his hand, leaving his face a smeared mess of black orc blood, sweat, and tears.

Boromir slowly lifted a hand and touched Thomas’s cheek, “I fear I will not be able to keep…” he coughed harshly, gasping for breath, “my promise to you and Rebecca. Ask Faramir to show you my city,” he whispered. Boromir smiled sadly as tears continued to flow unchecked down Thomas’s face.

Boromir’s eyes shifted back to Aragorn. “They-they took the little ones. I-I could not stop them.” His eyes glazed over in pain, his breathing labored. “Protect my people…my…land, my king,” he said so softly that Aragorn barely heard it over the sound of Thomas’s weeping.

Boromir took a last shuddering breath and was gone. Aragorn closed his eyes with a grimace and sat back on his heels. “May the Valar guide you on your journey, Boromir, son of Denethor.” He glanced up as Gimli and Legolas came running into the clearing, noting without surprise that Legolas’s quiver was empty. Aragorn turned his attention to Thomas who had his head in his hands and was still quietly weeping.

“Thomas,” Aragorn called softly. At first Thomas paid him no heed, but with an indrawn breath, he looked at Aragorn, then at Legolas and Gimli who had gathered around.

“Thomas, we need to find out where the hobbits are… and then take care of Boromir,” Aragorn said gently. “We need your help.”

Nodding, Thomas slowly got to his feet, wiping away his tears. “I’m sorry, Aragorn. What do you want me to do?” he asked, staring down at Boromir.

“Do not be ashamed of your feelings or your tears, Thomas,” Legolas said quietly.

Meeting Legolas’s eyes briefly, Thomas noticed his too were filled with pain and he nodded shortly before turning back to Aragorn.

“Boromir said they took the little ones, but he did not say which ones,” Aragorn said with frustration. “Thomas and I found tracks that showed Frodo headed back down to the river, but he could have been captured. We must search for sign here before heading back to where I last saw those tracks.”

“We cannot go off and leave Boromir here,” Gimli protested, “not among this filth.”

“We must honor him in some way, [mellon nín,”] Legolas agreed.

Aragorn glanced at Thomas before nodding, “Yes, of course. I did not mean to suggest we would not take care of him. Still we must hurry and look around here first for any sign of the hobbits.” The four of them spread out, searching the area around Boromir for signs of the hobbits.

“Aragorn!” Thomas called, “I think these are Merry and Pippin’s.” Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas came running to find Thomas crouching over two small silver belts and short swords.

“These are the belts Lady Galadriel gave them. The orcs would not take the swords, the blades are ancient and they would feel the power in them,” Aragorn said, picking them up and turning them over in his hands.

“Then Merry and Pippin, at least, are in the hands of the orcs,” Gimli growled.

Aragorn glanced back at Boromir’s body, “Let’s take care of Boromir, then we will find Frodo. Though, my heart is ill at the thought of young Pippin and Merry in the hands of the orcs.”

“We will get them back,” Legolas said fiercely.

Thomas swayed as he got to his feet and Legolas grabbed him to steady him. “Are you injured?” he asked with concern. He looked him over, noticing the red blood oozing from his left arm. “Sit, Thomas,” he pushed him gently to the ground. “Aragorn!” he called sharply.

“It’s just a small cut,” he protested weakly.

Aragorn hurried back to Thomas, “I forgot you were hurt, forgive me.”

Thomas looked at him in disbelief, “We’ve all been busy, Aragorn.”

Aragorn looked at him for a moment and then examined the wound on his arm. “This is no light wound, Thomas!” he exclaimed. “How did you keep fighting? And run this far?” He shook his head slightly as he pulled out his healing supplies.

“It was either keep fighting or die. I chose to keep fighting,” he said dryly.

“We need a fire. Gimli,” Aragorn called to the dwarf who was collecting the weapons of the orcs Boromir had killed, “I need a fire.”

Gimli grunted an acknowledgement and threw down the weapons as he made his way towards Aragorn and Thomas. He quickly kindled a small fire while he gave Thomas an appraising look. “You’re filthy lad,” he said approvingly, “just like a dwarf.”

Thomas nodded, not looking at Gimli, focusing instead on his bloody hands.

Aragorn exchanged a concerned glance with Gimli as he set a pot of water on the fire.

Thomas felt the others concern, but he ignored them. Now that he was sitting down for a moment all he could think about was Boromir. Boromir is dead. He’s dead. How can he be dead? How can I be alive when he’s dead? Images of the times they had spent together flashed through his mind. Times they had laughed together. Times Boromir had scolded him. The hours and hours he had spent with Boromir on the practice field. Boromir patiently teaching him to use a sword – lessons that had saved his life today. Boromir angrily reminding him to focus on his surroundings. Listening to Boromir tell stories or teasing Rebecca… How will I tell Rebecca? he suddenly thought with despair. Thomas began to weep again.

“Thomas,” A gentle voice caused him to look up. “I know your grief is deep, but we cannot linger here… we have things we must do.”

“I know, Aragorn,” he whispered brokenly, “and I’m ready to do that. Rebecca… how will we tell Rebecca?”

Aragorn’s eyes closed briefly, “We will do it gently, Thomas. Yet, we cannot worry about the future. You must focus on the present. I need you, Thomas Morgan.” Aragorn studied him intently and Thomas took a deep shuddering breath. “Do not think I do not grieve for Boromir. I do. But, the hobbits are alive and I… we must help them.”

“Merry and Pippin!” Thomas straightened up quickly. “And Frodo and Sam… we have to find them. I’ll be all right.” He wiped away the last of his tears, firmly pushing thoughts of Boromir to the back of his mind to deal with later.

Aragorn nodded approvingly. “I have to stitch your wound. Legolas is collecting his arrows, and Gimli,” he nodded at the dwarf, “is making a stretcher for Boromir.” He handed Thomas a cup of herbal tea with an evil smirk, “Here, drink this for the pain.”

“Great,” Thomas muttered, swallowing the horrible tasting brew in one gulp. He shook his head in disgust. “That hasn’t changed.”

“I need you on your feet and able to move, so it’s not very strong, but it should dull the pain.” Aragorn moved the cloth away from the wound and gently washed it with the warm water. Thomas clenched his teeth against the pain, making an occasional hiss as Aragorn started stitching it closed. “It’s very deep and you’ve lost quite a bit of blood,” he commented as he worked.

“I’m glad it was my left arm.”

“As am I. You did well, Thomas.”

Thomas gave him a half smile, “Thanks, I had good teachers. Aragorn… those orcs were not all the same as the ones in Moria. Some were much bigger.”

Aragorn glanced up from his stitching, “I know, we will have to look at them before we leave.”

“I think they come from Saruman,” Legolas said as he walked over and crouched down beside them. “I looked at them closely as I was collecting my arrows, they are marked with a white ‘S’. Sauron does not use white.”

Aragorn nodded in agreement, “No, he would not. I am almost finished here, Legolas. If you would help Gimli we can be on our way shortly.” The elf moved off while Aragorn tied off the last stitch. He applied a small amount of athelas that had been steeping in the water to the wound before bandaging it.

Thomas felt lightened in spirit just from breathing in the scent of the herb. “What is that, Aragorn?”

“It’s called athelas, it’s an old family secret,” he said with a trace of amusement. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

Thomas shook his head, “No, just these little cuts and scrapes everywhere.” He showed Aragorn his hands, which were covered with small nicks and gouges. Aragorn took the remainder of the water and washed Thomas’s hands.

“That should help some. Now, wash your face, you look terrible!” he squeezed Thomas’s shoulder affectionately.

“You don’t look so good yourself,” Thomas retorted as he washed his face, glad to be rid of the sticky orc blood.

“I know,” Aragorn nodded as he packed up his supplies, “now go help the others.”

“Thanks, Aragorn.”

0-0-0

Thomas carried an armload of the weapons from the orcs Boromir had killed. He didn’t totally understand the significance, but Gimli said it was to honor his memory and so he knew it must be some warrior tradition. Thomas glanced ahead at the stretcher Aragorn and Legolas were carefully carrying down to the river and wished they had time to bury him.

Reaching the river, they halted in surprise at the edge of the trees. “One of the boats is gone!” Gimli exclaimed.

“Stay here,” Aragorn commanded. He gently set down the stretcher before lightly stepping into the area near the boats. He swiftly scanned the ground, crouching down at times to brush away a stray leaf or stick. Aragorn glanced at the place they had left their packs. He stood with a weary sigh and crossed to where the others were patiently waiting.

“Frodo and Sam have gone, my friends,” Aragorn smiled ruefully. “Their packs are missing, and their footprints lead to the missing boat.”

Legolas stared across the river. “The boat is there,” he whispered, “but I do not see them.”

“Why? Why did they leave?” Gimli growled.

Aragorn shook his head, “Frodo thought it best, Gimli.” He stared across the river. “Come, we must tend to Boromir.”

Swiftly, yet tenderly they placed Boromir in a boat with his weapons in hand and the weapons of his defeated foes at his feet. As the boat was released into the current, Aragorn and Legolas sang a song of tribute in his honor. Gimli bowed his head in grief, while Thomas stood quietly with his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. They all watched quietly as the boat passed out of sight over the falls.

Legolas broke the silence. “Aragorn, what is our path now? To follow after Frodo and Sam or to rescue Merry and Pippin?”

Aragorn turned anguished eyes on the elf. “There is no clear choice, Legolas. How can we abandon either?”

Thomas looked at Aragorn uneasily, not used to seeing his hero like this. He flexed his injured arm slightly, wincing at the pain. Legolas gazed at him questioningly, but he shook his head and looked away.

Aragorn finally spoke up firmly, “We must follow the orcs. Frodo has chosen his path and while all of us would have gone with him to the end, perhaps it was meant to be this way.” He looked each of the others in the eye. “However, we shall not leave Merry and Pippin in the hands of those foul beasts. Take only what you can carry and we shall be off.”

They quickly scurried to do his bidding; rearranging packs, taking Lembas, water, and other essential items. Within fifteen minutes the riverbank was empty.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Reviewers: Many thanks to everyone who is reading this story and especially to those who reviewed.

Elvish Translations:

Goheno nín – Forgive me
Hannon le – I thank thee
Mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 16 - Many Meetings

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Note: Words in [...] are elvish and are translated at the end of the chapter.


Chapter 16 – Many Meetings

They ran through the night. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas and Thomas kept a steady pace as they worked their way through the rocks and ridges of the Emyn Muil chasing after their quarry. Near dawn they took a short break to catch their breath before descending the trail that led them down to the plains of Rohan. An endless sea of grass spread before them in the early morning light.

The trail of the Uruk-hai was plainly visible; the orcs had made no attempt to hide their passage. Scraps of food, broken pieces of leather, even discarded weapons were littering the path the four hunters followed. Plainly, the orcs were relying on speed to bring them to safety.

Thomas was exhausted. The short rest at dawn had helped, but that was many hours ago now. Aragorn had changed the bandage on his arm, reapplying the athelas herb which was so refreshing. He ran doggedly in front of Gimli, following Aragorn and Legolas who never seemed to tire. How does Aragorn do it? He’s just a man like me, not an elf, Thomas wondered, forgetting for the moment that he too was keeping up with the elf. He gritted his teeth and ran on.

Late in the afternoon, they discovered Pippin’s footprints and his Lothlórien pin and they continued running with renewed energy and a sense of hope. Thomas focused his eyes on Aragorn’s back and set his mind to thinking about other things besides running… or Boromir. He thought about Merry and Pippin, but that just made him worry too much, so mostly he thought about Rebecca. He stumbled.

“Are you all right, lad?” Gimli called.

Aragorn slowed and looked back. Thomas waved him on and glanced over his shoulder at Gimli.

“I’m fine,” he said shortly, “I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“You need to,” Gimli grunted, “We can’t have you hurt.”

Thomas nodded.

They ran on.

0-0-0-0-0

Loud knocking pulled Rebecca from sleep in the early pre-dawn hours. Rushing to the door she opened it, blinking sleepily to find Haldir standing there looking at her gravely.

“You must hurry, Lady Rebecca, Gandalf’s scouts have returned and he is ready to depart.”

Rebecca stared at him for a moment until the words sank in. Turning abruptly she hurried into her bedroom, quickly slipping into the traveling clothes she had selected days earlier. She smiled slightly as she ran the intricate comb Galadriel had given her through her hair before stuffing it into a pocket of her tunic. At least this time my hair will be neat, she thought.

Back in the sitting room, Rebecca belted on her sword, threw on her new elven cloak and slung her bow and quiver on her back. She grabbed the pack that contained all her healing supplies, a change of clothes, and food for the journey. Taking one last look around the rooms that had been her home for so long she turned to Haldir with an eager smile, “I’m ready to go.”

Nodding he led the way down the stairs. Halfway down Rebecca stopped, “Haldir, wait, I forgot to tell Brethil good-bye.” She was turning around when she felt his hand on her arm.

“There is no time, Lady Rebecca. Gandalf was most insistent.” He frowned slightly when Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, before she nodded wordlessly and continued down the stairs.

“I will tell her for you,” Haldir offered quietly.

[“Hannon le.] Please tell her I’ll miss her and that I hope to see her again.” Rebecca glanced up at Haldir, smiling uncertainly, suddenly nervous. “Haldir, I-I’m not sure how to say this.” He glanced at her with a faint smile as they hurried across the lawn. “You’ve taught me so much and I thank you for that.” Rebecca took a deep breath. “But, I also think of you as a friend and I thank you for that friendship.” She smiled sadly, “I’ll miss you and I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.”

Haldir gently took her hand and pulled her to a stop, “I am honored to be your friend, Lady Rebecca. It has given me joy to train an ‘elfling’ like you,” his eyes sparkled merrily before turning serious once again. “I do not know if we will meet again. I hope that we shall, it would give me great pleasure,” he bowed slightly before they rushed on.

Passing through the gates of the city they found Gandalf, clad in a grey cloak, waiting by a large silver-white horse. He looked Rebecca over carefully, “Are you ready?” he inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Looking at the tall horse a little nervously, Rebecca nodded. “Haldir, will you please tell Lord Thalion, Lord Celeborn, and Lady Galadriel good-bye for me too?” Haldir nodded as Rebecca heard Galadriel’s voice say ‘May the Valar guide and protect you on your journey, child’, she shook her slightly and sighed. [“Navaer,] Lady Rebecca.”

[“Navaer,] Lord Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlórien,” Rebecca bowed with a grin before Gandalf pulled her onto Shadowfax.

[“Navaer!”] Gandalf called as they galloped off.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked as they left they woods, turning slightly to see Gandalf.

“Fangorn Forest,” he said grimly, not looking at her, focusing instead on the plains ahead.

Rebecca gripped his arm tightly knowing something was wrong by the tone of his voice. “What’s the matter, Gandalf?”

The wizard hesitated for several minutes and the only sound was the thunder of Shadowfax’s hoofs beating upon the ground. “The Fellowship has split up,” Gandalf sighed. “I know that two hobbits are captives of the Uruk-hai or orcs.” Rebecca gasped in shock. “My scouts saw one hobbit on the other side of the river heading towards Mordor, I assume that is Frodo.” Gandalf paused again, “There is a party of four, chasing the Uruk-hai,” he finished quietly.

Rebecca closed her eyes in pain, “Two are… dead then,” she whispered, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye.

“Have hope, young lady, perhaps my scouts missed seeing them,” Gandalf said gently as he patted her shoulder.

Rebecca nodded, though she wasn’t really listening. All she could think about was who was dead. Please not Thomas, she prayed, Or…or. She stopped herself, appalled at her thoughts, she couldn’t pray or hope that this or that friend was alive when that would mean another friend was dead. But…Thomas, she needed Thomas. Rebecca groaned inwardly. “Gandalf, who are we meeting at Fangorn, and when will we get there?”

“We should arrive tomorrow afternoon. I hope to meet up with the four who are pursuing the Uruk-hai… and the hobbits of course.”

Shifting uncomfortably on the horse, Rebecca glanced back at the wizard. “Will we stop once in awhile?” a note of pleading entered her voice.

“Yes, of course. I won’t even make you travel at night.”

Rebecca nodded before turning troubled eyes back to the horizon.

0-0-0

Rebecca groaned as she slipped off Shadowfax, almost falling as her feet hit the ground. Taking two brief rest stops during the day had not stopped her from becoming stiff. Gandalf caught her arm, “Careful, young lady. Walk around to stretch your legs, it will help,” he said encouragingly.

Nodding at him with a grimace, Rebecca gingerly walked away, taking her bow, but not stringing it. She didn’t wander far, several minutes of stretching her legs gave her enough relief that she returned to camp.

“Feeling better?” Gandalf inquired, his eyes flicking from Rebecca’s to the bow she carried loosely in her left hand.

“Some,” she replied as she carefully sat down near him, pulling her pack close and began rummaging through it as she looked for food. “Gandalf, did you bring food?” she glanced up to find him gazing at her thoughtfully. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are you carrying your bow? Did you sense something?” he asked quietly.

“No,” she shook her head, “I just thought I should carry it out here when it’s just us.” Rebecca shrugged, “You never know what might happen,” she finished sadly, thinking about the captured hobbits and the missing members of the Fellowship.

“You have been well trained,” he commented. “You are correct, anything can happen in these dark days.” He turned his piercing eyes to the southeast as if to see through the distance that separated them from the rest of the Fellowship. Gandalf sighed, “We must find them,” he murmured so softly that Rebecca almost missed it.

“We will, Gandalf,” she said reassuringly, reaching out hesitantly and patting him on the shoulder.

He turned to Rebecca with a smile and a quiet laugh, “Yes we will, young lady. Now, did you say something about food? You need to eat and get some rest.”

Aren’t you going to eat? I have extra.”

“I will eat later, I want to think for a bit,” he replied, pulling out his pipe.

“I can keep watch later, just wake me.”

He nodded absently, already deep in thought.

Rebecca watched him as she ate wondering what he was thinking about or if he ‘talked’ with other wizards or elves in his head at times like this. Her thoughts drifted to her friends, whom she had pushed from her mind for most of the afternoon. As she wondered how they got split up, and which hobbits were captured and why, Rebecca sighed deeply. Though of course her biggest question was who was dead. She struggled to blink back tears, but a few fell anyway. Wiping them away she reached for her bedroll struggling to keep her composure.

“Lady Rebecca.”

Startled, she looked up to find Gandalf’s kind blue eyes looking at her compassionately.

“There are no words of comfort I can give you, for I do not know the fate of the others. You must remain strong and not give in to despair.”

“I know you’re right, Gandalf, but it’s hard to do.” She paused briefly, “That reminds me of something Lord Celeborn told me when the Fellowship first left Lothlórien” she said thoughtfully.

“He is one of the wisest elves on Middle Earth; you would do well to heed his words. Now, get some sleep.”

Wrapping herself in her bedroll, Rebecca soon drifted off, thoughts of Thomas filling her dreams.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas could hear the labored breathing of Gimli behind him. He felt sorry for the dwarf with his short legs and wearing all that heavy armor and axes – not that Gimli ever complained. Thomas ran with his head down, focused on the ground in front of him. He glanced at the sun, judging that it was a couple of hours until the sun set. His arm hurt, but it was a deep dull ache that was nothing compared to the pain of his legs… or his heart.

Aragorn dropped back to check on Thomas. “How do you fare?” looking him over with experienced eyes, noting the way he held his injured arm close to his body.

“I can make it,” Thomas answered shortly, glancing up at Aragorn briefly before focusing back on the ground in front of him.

Aragorn hesitated before replying, “Good.” He increased his pace slightly to catch back up with Legolas. He was worried. The orcs had at least a six hour head start and they had only seen a brief glimpse of them when Legolas had spotted them miles ahead earlier in the day. Aragorn sighed softly and ran on into the late afternoon sun.

Deep dusk arrived and Aragorn could no longer be sure of following the trail. In spite of their concerns for Merry and Pippin they were forced to stop for the night.

Thomas threw himself on the ground, hissing in pain when he hit his arm. He lay there panting heavily for a few minutes before he forced himself to sit up. He took a small sip of water, rinsing out his mouth before spitting it out. It splattered Aragorn’s boots as he came to check on him.

“Thanks, Thomas. I needed my boots cleaned,” he said wryly, crouching down next to him.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” Thomas pointed out, taking a long drink of water.

“You should pay attention to your surroundings. I believe we have had this conversation before.” Aragorn’s voice sounded faintly amused.

“Yes, once or twice,” Thomas said. “Someday I may actually see you coming,” he laughed shortly.

“I hope so. I need to check your wound as best I can in the dark. Are you in much pain?” he asked in concern as he carefully removed the bandage.

“It hurts,” Thomas admitted quietly, flinching as Aragorn probed the wound gently.

“It does not feel warm, so there does not appear to be any sign of infection,” he commented, relief evident in his voice. “We cannot light a fire so I will not be able to make you anything for the pain.”

“A bottle of aspirin would really come in handy right now,” Thomas said ruefully.

“Aspirin?”

“It’s a little pill you swallow and it takes the pain away for a few hours. I think it has the herbs like you use all chopped up inside or something,” Thomas tried to explain it so that Aragorn would get the general idea. “Anyway, you don’t need a fire or anything, you just carry the pills with you and take them when you need them.”

“It would be a wonderful thing to have. Unfortunately, we do not and for now you will just have to live with your pain. Eat something and then get some rest, you have last watch.”

0-0-0

“Aragorn,” Legolas’s voice instantly woke him from a dead sleep. He sat up, quickly looking at the moon.

“Why did you not wake me earlier? It is only a couple of hours until dawn,” he whispered.

“You needed the rest, as do Thomas and Gimli,” Legolas replied mildly. “I do not. You can take the last watch instead.”

“Gimli will not be pleased,” Aragorn commented as he stood and stretched.

Legolas laughed lightly, “Probably not. I will let you wake him while I scout ahead.”

“You always leave when the truly dangerous things come along,” he complained.

“Elves sense these things, [mellon nín,] and are wise enough to move out of harms way.”

Aragorn laughed quietly, but did not reply as he slowly walked in the direction their path led, staring into the darkness ahead. “Will we rescue them, Legolas?” his voice quiet and troubled.

“I know not. I fear they are far ahead now for they did not stop this night,” sorrow filled his voice.

“That is my fear as well. Still we must have hope. We cannot give up while we have strength in our bodies.” Aragorn paused, “Will Gimli and Thomas be able to keep this pace?”

“They will,” Legolas said firmly. “They would do anything to save the hobbits, just as we would.”

“I thought as much,” Aragorn agreed, pulling out his pipe. He filled it, lit it, and started puffing on it all while staring up at the stars. Finally, he shook himself. “You should get some rest, [mellon nín,”] he said, turning to Legolas, but the elf had already slipped away.

0-0-0

Aragorn nudged Thomas awake with his foot, “We need to go, Thomas”

Thomas looked up at him blearily, “You didn’t wake me for my watch,” he said accusingly. He could hear Gimli grumbling about it as well.

“Legolas decided we needed the rest,” Aragorn shrugged.

Slowly and carefully, Thomas eased himself to his feet. He stretched his sore legs and was pleased to discover that the muscles did not feel as bad as he had feared. Aragorn handed him some lembas as he checked his arm.

“How does it feel?”

“It itches mostly.”

“That means it is healing,” Aragorn said. “Are you in pain this morning?”

“Not much… at least not from that,” he said quietly.

Aragorn nodded, “I fear it will be another long day.”

“We have to get them back, Aragorn.” Thomas eyes turned almost black with anger. “They’re our friends, we can’t let them die too.” He turned his gaze into the distance, “Too many of my friends and family have died,” he murmured.

Aragorn clasped his shoulder briefly, “We will find them if it is in our power to do so,” he said quietly as he walked away.

Within minutes the four of them were again running across the plains of Rohan.

The four hunters ran steadily all day catching no sight of the orcs. The trail they followed was over twelve hours old now, yet still they pressed on, each lost in his own thoughts.

They ran until darkness again prevented them from seeing the trail. Two whole days and a night they had been pursuing the orcs with only a distant glimpse of their quarry, but still they were not willing to quit. Not while they had breath in their bodies.

Another night passed uneventfully.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca awoke Gandalf just as the sky turned pink in the east. She had been surprised, but pleased when he had awoken her in the night to keep watch. The long quiet night had given her many hours to brood about her friends, though she had tried desperately not to sink into despair and to cling to hope.

Shadowfax ambled up with an inquiring whinny just as they finished breakfast. “Yes, friend, we are coming. We have many miles to travel this day.” Gandalf stood and stroked the horse gently. Rebecca gathered her things quickly as she moved to join him on the horse. Soon they were galloping south across the plains heading to Fangorn Forest.

Mid-afternoon found them approaching the northern edge of the forest. Gandalf spoke quietly to Shadowfax and the horse pulled up a few yards away from the trees. Dismounting, Rebecca looked around uneasily. She grabbed her bow, stringing it and had an arrow nocked within seconds and without thinking.

“What is this place, Gandalf?” she whispered.

“Fangorn is one of the oldest forests in Middle Earth. Ents live here, beings that look like trees, they walk, they speak and they take care of the trees. They have lived on Middle Earth longer than any other being, even longer than elves.” Gandalf smiled at Rebecca’s open-mouthed stare.

“Trees that move and talk?” she muttered. “Is that all I feel? Something is not right, Gandalf.”

Gandalf shook his head, “I feel it too, the trees are angry and upset. Still, our path lies within. Tread carefully and keep your bow at hand.”

Rebecca nodded grimly, following him into the gloomy forest. Her unease doubled as the sunlight dimmed to something like twilight as they entered beneath the boughs of the trees. She gazed up at the giant ancient trees torn between fear and awe. The trees were gnarled and twisted, covered with hanging moss. This forest contained none of the beauty of the woods of Lothlórien. The forest floor was covered with downed, decaying trees, broken tree limbs, and dried leaves.

Rebecca stayed close to Gandalf as they cautiously made their way through the forest. The dried leaves rustled loudly as they moved in the otherwise quiet forest. Not a bird or squirrel was heard or seen in the gloom.

Pulling on Gandalf’s sleeve, Rebecca whispered, “How do you know where to go? How far is it?” She looked around nervously, seeing the endless forest of trees.

“It is a two day walk at least. It was no longer safe for us on the open plain with a band of Uruk-hai approaching. They will not enter the forest. We will be safer here,” Gandalf said reassuringly.

Rebecca looked at him skeptically for a moment before shrugging. “I guess I’ll just have to trust you,” she said after a moment.

Gandalf smiled before walking on.

Keeping a close watch on their surroundings, the two of them walked until it was almost too dark to see. Gandalf would not allow a fire, even with the deadfall that littered the ground. He did use his staff so they had a small light for a short time, when it went out it was utterly dark.

This is worse than Moria, at least there we had walls, but here there is nothing to keep evil things away, Rebecca thought, shuddering and she inched over closer to Gandalf. He laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Sleep young lady, I will guard you this night.”

Rebecca’s sleep was troubled, images of Moria, of orcs and Gandalf falling from the bridge again and again filled her dreams and she started awake several times. Each time, Gandalf spoke soothingly to her and she slipped back into sleep.

The darkness had barely lightened the forest to twilight again when Gandalf shook Rebecca awake. She groaned in irritation before rising. She brushed off her clothes, noting that elvish cloth seemed to keep a lot cleaner than her old clothes. Rebecca already needed a bath though, she grimaced as she quickly combed her hair, she had gotten spoiled in Lothlórien and had forgotten the realities of traveling in Middle-earth.

They walked steadily for several hours before the quiet, oppressive atmosphere got to Rebecca. “Gandalf,” she whispered, “is it all right if we talk or is it better to be quiet in here?”

Gandalf stopped, turning to her with a hint of amusement in his eyes as he leaned on his staff. “I think it is quite safe to speak as long as we remain alert.”

“I’m alert,” Rebecca held up her bow grimly.

“Did you have something in particular you wanted to talk about?” he inquired as they walked on.

“No… just anything to break the silence and to take my mind off of things.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Maybe…maybe you could tell me some more about Middle Earth. The history of it. Or about you!” she exclaimed. “I don’t know much about your past or anything.”

Gandalf laughed, “Hmmm, yes it would be good for you to know more of the history of Middle Earth. However, for every story I tell, you must tell me about your world.”

Rebecca nodded reluctantly. “That seems fair, only you have to promise you’ll believe me when I tell you something. Even if it seems impossible.”

Gandalf peered at her closely, “I take it the others did not always believe you,” he said quietly.

Scanning the forest, Rebecca did not look at him as she replied. “They did eventually come to realize that Thomas and I were telling the truth.” She smiled at Gandalf. “But, it was hard at first to hear their laughter and see their disbelieving faces. I just want you to believe me right away.”

“I will believe you, but it does not mean I will not be surprised by what you tell me,” Gandalf said gently.

“I know, I know. It was just hard for awhile, I guess because everything was so new.” Rebecca shook her head, “I didn’t even know how to use a flint to light a candle!” she laughed.

“As I said earlier, you have changed much during your time here. Now, I will start with a story from the first age. A tale from the hidden city of Gondolin…”

The two spent the rest of the day walking and sharing about their respective worlds. Gandalf was amazed by the incredible things that Rebecca told him about life in her world. Rebecca was horrified by the evil that a being named Morgoth had loosed on Middle Earth during the first age. The loss of the great elven cities and the number of elves he killed during those years filled her with sorrow. Now, over six thousand years later they were facing his second-in-command, Sauron.

As the forest darkened, they found shelter near a large rock by a swiftly flowing stream. Gandalf gave Rebecca his staff with the small glowing light to help her through the first watch. She sat staring into the darkness around her, tightly holding onto her bow, listening for any sounds. But the night was still. Mostly she thought about the stories that Gandalf had told her during the day, her mind occasionally straying to Thomas and the rest of the Fellowship before she forced herself to think of other things. Finally she rose to wake Gandalf.

“Gandalf, wake up. I think it’s time for your watch,” Rebecca shook the wizard gently.

“You think?”

“Well, I can’t tell! I can’t see the stars here and I’ve tried counting slowly in my head, but I keep losing track,” Rebecca said in frustration. “I need a watch,” she mumbled.

“Peace, young lady, I believe it is indeed my time. What is a watch? Obviously you meant something different than staying awake at night,” Gandalf looked at her questioningly.

“It’s a … device for telling time. It’s usually small, you wear it on your wrist and it has numbers on it. It keeps track of time by hours and minutes. We all use them at home,” she smiled at Gandalf’s look of wonderment.

“It would be useful in a place this, but I do not think it would be necessary anywhere else,” he said thoughtfully. “Still, I am sure it has its uses. Go to sleep now, the night is swiftly passing.”

Rebecca wrapped up in her bedroll, drifting quickly off to sleep, her dreams untroubled this night.

0-0-0-0-0

A third day had come and gone and it was early morning on the fourth when Legolas saw the riders. They were miles to the north, but were rapidly heading in their direction. With nowhere to hide in the miles of open grassland, the four of them simply pulled their elven cloaks about themselves and sat down, waiting for the riders to approach.

Thomas was glad for the break and he laid his head wearily on his pulled up knees. His arm was still aching, but his legs were in so much pain that he was starting to wonder how much longer he could keep running.

“Do you know anything about these men, Aragorn?” Gimli asked.

“They are good people. Strong and stern, this harsh land breeds proud men. They will be suspicious in these dark days,” Aragorn answered thoughtfully.

Soon the riders came thundering past, not seeing the four beings sitting in the grass. They were tall, strong men clad in armor, carrying spears, hands resting near the swords they bore. Long blonde hair flowed out beneath the helmets each man wore. They rode as one with their horse, each man completely in tune with his animal. Most of the company had passed when Aragorn finally rose and hailed them.

Thomas watched in awe as the men turned their horses as one and started circling him and the others. He’d never seen such incredible horsemanship. To be able to turn without words and as a unit and the horses were beautiful. He turned his attention back to Aragorn as the noose slowly tightened around them.

Aragorn stood calmly, waiting for the Rohirrim to make the next move. As one they suddenly stopped, one riding forward and dismounting before striding forward to face Aragorn. “Who are you and what brings you without leave into the Riddermark?” he challenged Aragorn boldly as he drew his sword.

“I am Strider, a ranger from the north. We are pursuing orcs who have taken two of our friend’s captive.”

“The four of you are chasing a party of orcs? A man, an elf, a dwarf, and a boy?” he asked in disbelief.

Thomas bristled at the tone and dismissive look the man gave him, but Legolas laid a hand on his arm warningly.

The man looked them over keenly, “You are dressed strangely,” he remarked.

“We passed through the woods of Lothlórien. The favor of Lady Galadriel goes with us, she clothed us in elvish cloaks,” Aragorn replied.

“The old stories are true, then! There is an elvish sorceress in those woods,” he cried, bringing up his sword and pointing it at Aragorn’s chest.

“You speak ill of that which you do not know, horse-master,” Gimli growled. “Do not speak evil of the fair lady Galadriel.”

“And who might you be, dwarf” the man sneered angrily.

Thomas sucked in his breath and watched wide-eyed as the tension mounted between Gimli and this man… Éomer, he thought his name was… he hadn’t quite heard it with all that was going on. He was shocked when Legolas pointed an arrow at Éomer, but Thomas drew his sword immediately and stared unflinchingly at the horseman, ignoring the spears and arrows pointed at him from all sides.

“Éomer, will you not hear us before you strike?” Aragorn asked as he pushed Legolas’s bow to the side.

“I will,” he said with obvious reluctance, “but your companions would be wise to remember that they are strangers in my land and in these dark days we are wary of all such people.” Éomer’s eyes never left Thomas as he spoke.

Aragorn glanced behind him to see that Thomas still had his sword drawn and was staring at Éomer. He looked back at Éomer, “This is Thomas son of Morgan.”

Thomas started slightly at the introduction and he glanced at Aragorn before realizing he still had his sword drawn while Legolas had returned his arrow to his quiver. He slid the blade into the sheath, but kept his hand on the hilt.

Éomer turned his attention back to Aragorn. “I know the names of those who travel with you, but give me your true name, it cannot be Strider.”

“First tell me if you are in league with Sauron.”

“I serve no one but my King, Théoden and he is in league with no one,” Éomer responded proudly. “We are yet a free people, though Saruman wages war on our western border and we must make haste to return to Edoras. Your name?” he prodded impatiently.

In response, Aragorn threw back his cloak and drew his sword, Andúril, “I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur. This is the blade that cut the ring from Sauron’s hand, it has been re-forged,” he said in a regal, commanding voice. Aragorn seemed suddenly to grow in stature and strength and to glow with an inner fire.

The riders shifted uneasily on their horses and low murmuring broke out amongst them. Éomer stared at Aragorn in wonder, while Thomas looked at him in amazement, before glancing at Gimli and Legolas to find the same slightly stunned looks on their faces.

Thomas watched with hidden amusement as Éomer’s attitude changed subtly and became slightly less belligerent after Aragorn revealed his true identity. He sighed quietly in relief as the horseman finally sheathed his sword and sent his riders a short distance away. Thomas eyed the horses longingly as they moved off, wishing he could have one to ride. Aragorn’s urgent tone broke through his musings.

“Did you see a party of orcs on your way south?”

“We slaughtered them last night,” Éomer said with satisfaction. “Though, we lost 15 good men and 12 horses.”

“Did you see two hobbits?” Gimli cried.

“A hobbit? What is a hobbit?” Éomer looked at the dwarf in confusion.

“You would better know them as halflings,” Aragorn explained.

“But they are only legends, tales for children!”

“They are quite real, I assure you,” Aragorn looked at Éomer closely. “They are the size of children,” holding out his hand to demonstrate.

“We killed none but orcs, all were destroyed,” Éomer shook his head. “We piled the bodies and burned them.”

Thomas stared at him in disbelief before turning his gaze to the ground as the conversation continued. Dead? Merry and Pippin dead? He rubbed his hand across his forehead angrily as he looked back up, clenching his jaw in frustration.

“Come to Edoras with me, Aragorn,” Éomer implored. “We could use your sword. The bow of Legolas and the axe of Gimli we could also use. I am sure we could also find some use for the boy,” dismissing Thomas with a glance.

“Oh, I think you would find Thomas an adequate swordsman, Éomer,” Aragorn said mildly with a faint smile. “He was trained by me and Boromir, son of Denethor. He has killed his share of orcs.” Thomas threw Aragorn a grateful glance while wondering what was causing Éomer to treat him like this.

“You know Boromir? He is a good man and a brave soldier!” Éomer exclaimed.

Thomas stared sorrowfully into the distance as Aragorn responded quietly. “He died four days ago at Amon Hen by these same orcs you slew.”

“Boromir, dead? That is evil news,” Éomer shook his head as he stared at the ground. Suddenly, his head snapped up and he fixed his sharp brown eyes on Aragorn. “You have run from Amon Hen in less than four days?” he asked incredulously. “That is over 130 miles!” He glanced at the other three, his eyes lingering on Thomas.

“Our need drove us,” Aragorn shrugged slightly, “and now we must continue our hunt.”

“They must be dead, I told you we killed them all,” Éomer said in surprise. “Come with us,” he urged again.

“You said that everything you burned were orcs,” Aragorn pointed out. “I will check the trail and see if they escaped or if some turned off at some point before you killed them. My heart still has hope,” his eyes burned brightly.

“Hope? There is no hope left in these lands,” Éomer said bitterly. “I would not speak ill of the king in front of my men and even now if goes hard with me to do so. The king listens now to evil counsel and does not stand against Saruman as he should. I left Edoras without his leave to pursue and destroy these orcs.” Éomer ran his fingers through his long blonde hair and his brown eyes flashed angrily. “Our people are beset on all sides and he does nothing to protect them,” he spat out.

Aragorn looked at him in growing concern. If this was the state that King Théoden was in, things looked grim for Rohan, for Gondor and indeed for all of Middle Earth. He glanced at his companions to find Legolas and Gimli regarding Éomer thoughtfully, while Thomas was studying the ground. Not that that surprises me after the way Éomer has treated him, Aragorn thought with amusement.

“Will you not come to Edoras?” Éomer asked again.

“I will come, if chance allows, after I have seen for myself that my friends are… dead,” Aragorn swallowed hard as images of Merry and Pippin flashed through his mind.

“It is against the King’s law for strangers to cross our lands unless he gives them leave.” Éomer looked hard at Aragorn. “However, I am going to trust you Aragorn son of Arathorn and place my life in your hands. I will lend you horses. When you have finished your search, you must return them to Edoras, so that my uncle, King Théoden, can see that I was not deceived by you.”

“Thank you for your trust, Éomer son of Éomund. I will come to Edoras as soon as I may, horses will speed my journey,” Aragorn nodded firmly.

Éomer gave a piercing whistle to his men and three horses were led forward. Aragorn was given a large dark grey horse named Hasufel. Legolas stripped all the gear off of his white horse, Arod, and nimbly leapt astride.

Thomas watched in amazement as the horse responded to Legolas’s gently whispered instructions.

“Can you ride, boy?” Éomer’s brash voice intruded on his thoughts.

“My name is Thomas, and yes, I can ride,” he said with a slight edge to his voice looking Éomer right in the eye.

Éomer raised an eyebrow without comment and handed him the reins to a large skittish light brown horse. “His name is Baldor,” he called over his shoulder as he swaggered away.

Thomas looked the horse over appraisingly as it danced around nervously. He spoke soothingly to it as he watched it intently, pleased with what he saw. The horse responded to his calm voice and soon stopped moving, standing still and shaking his head and blowing at Thomas.

Moving slowly forward, Thomas patted Baldor’s neck gently before moving to the saddle and tightening the girth. He adjusted the stirrup and then slowly slid under the horse’s neck to adjust the other one, keeping up a steady stream of soothing words the whole time. Finally, he mounted Baldor, prepared for the quick, dancing steps it took sideways. More quiet words and a firm hand on the reins settled the horse down and Thomas patted his neck encouragingly. He looked up to see Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli watching him.

“I see you can ride,” Aragorn said with a half smile.

“I told you I used to work on a horse ranch, I have a lot of experience with horses,” Thomas shrugged with an answering grin. He glanced at Éomer, but he was talking with some of his men. “Legolas, how do you ride a horse with no reins?” Thomas still could not believe what he was seeing.

“Wood-elves are very close to nature, Thomas. We do not control animals, we speak with them and they agree to bear us or not,” Legolas shrugged gracefully.

“Aragorn!” Éomer trotted up suddenly, “I hold you to your word to come to Edoras.”

“I will come,” Aragorn said simply.

Nodding, Éomer took one last look at them and led his men thundering across the plains towards Edoras.

Thomas had to fight Baldor to keep him from following them.

“I think Éomer gave you that particular horse on purpose, Thomas,” Aragorn said.

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Thomas replied as Baldor tried to rear again. He patted his neck and spoke softly until the horse calmed. “He probably thought I was too much of a ‘boy’ to handle him,” he said with a slight frown.

“Bah, he just doesn’t know you lad,” Gimli growled from where he sat clinging tightly to Legolas.

“I’m not sure who he likes less, Gimli, me or you,” Thomas said shaking his head.

“We need to go,” Aragorn said as he turned his horse to the north.

“Aragorn, wait.”

Aragorn drew up and looked at Thomas expectantly as he brought his horse alongside. “I wanted to tell you that my father’s name is not Morgan.”

“It’s not?” Aragorn looked at him in surprise.

Thomas shook his head, “Morgan is my last name. It’s how we do it where I’m from. I have three names actually, first, middle and last.” Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas were all staring at him. “My full name is Thomas William Morgan. My father’s name is William James Morgan. My last name, Morgan, would become the last name of my wife,” Thomas blushed slightly, “and the last name of any children I might have.”

The other three continued to stare at him in silence until Aragorn clucked to his horse and they all started walking forward. “It seems a little complicated, Thomas,” he finally admitted, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

“That’s for sure,” Gimli grunted.

“The wife changes her name when she marries?” Legolas asked in confusion.

“Just part of it, the last name. I wasn’t trying to confuse you. I know it’s different than here. I think it’s because we have so many people. There were two other boys in my school named Thomas when I was growing up, last names help tell us apart.” He smiled at the looks of confusion on all of their faces. “It really doesn’t matter,” he shrugged, “I just wanted you to know my father’s name and my whole name.”

Aragorn shook his head, “Well, Thomas son of William, forgive me, but here in the land of Rohan, you are Thomas son of Morgan. I did not mean to dishonor your father,” he said apologetically.

“You didn’t Aragorn, you didn’t even know. It just never came up. Besides, that’s not how we honor fathers in my land anyway,” Thomas said with a thoughtful look in his eye. He looked at Aragorn sadly for a moment before kicking his horse into a gallop.

0-0-0-0-0

“Something’s wrong, Gandalf,” Rebecca hissed suddenly, bringing her nocked bow up as she quickly scanned the forest around them. Nothing was visible, yet all the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up and all of her senses told her someone was watching them.

“It is an ent, “Lady Rebecca,” Gandalf looked at her with amusement in his eyes. “In fact, it is Treebeard. Lower your bow, it would have no effect on an ent even if we wanted to harm him.”

“An ent? Where?” Rebecca looked around, seeing nothing but trees.

“Standing directly in front of us leaning on that large rock.”

Rebecca stared hard at the rock, suddenly noticing the face like features of the ‘tree’ next to it. There’s a nose, a mouth… and eyes, she realized as the eyes blinked. She looked closer, seeing what appeared to be arms and legs. She gasped as it spoke.

“Well met, Master Gandalf,” he boomed.

“Well met, indeed Treebeard,” Gandalf bowed slightly.

Rebecca took a step back as Treebeard turned his deep brown unfathomable eyes on her. “Who is this?” he asked. “Hoom hmm.”

“This is Lady Rebecca.”

“Hello, Treebeard, well met,” she said nervously with a slight bow.

“Master Gandalf, I heard that you had fallen into shadow.”

“Did you now? The bearer of that tale was correct, yet I have returned.” Gandalf stood leaning on his staff gazing at the ent with narrowed eyes. “Who told you of my passing?”

“Two young hobbits, Merry and Pippin, I met them in my forest yesterday.”

“Merry and Pippin!” Rebecca cried. “Where are they? Are they all right? Can I see them?” She looked around eagerly.

“Now, now, don’t be hasty, Lady Rebecca,” Treebeard rumbled. “Hoom.”

“Peace, young lady,” Gandalf laid a hand on her arm and she looked down in embarrassment.

“The hobbits are in my home at the base of the mountains. I am gathering ents for an entmoot.”

Rebecca was disappointed to learn that Merry and Pippin were not close by, though it seemed Gandalf was pleased.

“Are-are they all right, Treebeard?” she asked cautiously, peering up at him hopefully.

“Hmmm… it depends on what you mean by all right. Hoom.” Rebecca’s eyes widened in fear. “They are very hasty folk for ones so small and very hungry.” Rebecca smiled, knowing that if they were eating, they were probably doing all right “They were sleeping when I left this morning.” Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief. It sounded like they were well enough.

Turning to Gandalf, she asked, “Are we going to go and get them now?”

“No,” he said thoughtfully, “I believe we will leave them in Treebeard’s capable hands for now.” He held up his hand to stop Rebecca’s protests. “It is miles from here, young lady and we have others to meet. I believe there is a reason Merry and Pippin met Treebeard, just like there is a purpose that you are here.”

That stopped any further protests Rebecca could make and she bowed her head slightly before biting her lip and staring into the woods. She so missed Merry and Pippin and their cheerful hearts and she couldn’t wait to see them again. She suddenly paused, if they were here, and Gandalf thought Frodo had crossed the river to go to Mordor, did that mean Sam was dead? Rebecca blinked back the sudden tears that filled her eyes. She remembered his sweet gentle spirit and how he cared so for Frodo. She shook her head to clear her mind of those images.

“Lady Rebecca,” Gandalf called softly, breaking into her thoughts.

“What? Oh, I’m sorry Gandalf, I wasn’t listening.”

“I know,” he said with a smile, “Treebeard is leaving now.”

Rebecca looked up sheepishly. “Good-bye Treebeard,” she bowed deeply. “Please tell Merry and Pippin hello for me.”

“Hoom, I will,” he boomed and with a very slight bending of his body towards them, he strode off, his long legs taking him out of sight very quickly, the ground shaking slightly as he went.

“You have the most amazing creatures here, Gandalf,” Rebecca said with a sigh, turning to look at him. He just smiled. “Where do we go now?”

“We are waiting here.”

“Here?” Rebecca glanced around looking to see if there was anything different about this particular spot in the forest. Other than the large rocky hill, she couldn’t see anything, but she was tired of walking anyway. She shrugged, laying her pack on the ground near a large tree. “I could use a long rest,” she said, smiling as she sank down beside the pack.

“Enjoy your rest, it may be the last one you have for quite some time,” Gandalf said slowly, his brow furrowing in thought as he pulled out his pipe.

Rebecca watched him in silence for a few minutes as she leaned back against the tree. It was times like this that she really needed a book or a deck of cards or something to do, she mused. Maybe I should take up carving, she laughed inwardly, as she fiddled with the dagger on her belt. If she had the right materials she could make a deck of cards. She sorted through her pack for a while, but she had nothing that would work for the cards. Rebecca finally decided it would have to wait until they reached a city. Yawning sleepily she soon drifted off to sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

“Pull, up, Thomas,” Aragorn ordered sharply as soon as he caught up with him.

Thomas slowed immediately, fighting Baldor until he stopped. “What’s the matter?” he asked in confusion as Legolas and Gimli halted behind them.

Aragorn sighed in frustration since it was obvious Thomas did not realize what he has just done. “Thomas,” he said tightly, trying to control his anger, “you just galloped over the trail I need to read. Follow behind Legolas.”

His face suddenly pale, Thomas stammered out an apology, “I’m-I’m sorry, Aragorn,” before reining his horse around.

Nodding curtly, Aragorn moved slowly forward, just to the side of the trail left by the passage of the Uruk-hai. He carefully followed it, watching for places where orcs might have left the main group. Occasionally Aragorn would dismount to check something or they sped up, trotting for several miles.

Thomas rode in the back, horrified by what he had done. He hadn’t meant to, he was just excited and having fun being on a horse again. He could only hope it didn’t end up hurting Merry and Pippin. Thomas shook his head, staring forward into the distance where he could see a faint column of smoke rising. That must be where Éomer burned the orcs, he thought with despair. He didn’t really want to go any closer, to see for himself the burned bodies of his friends. They could still be alive, he reminded himself without a lot of hope.

They smelled the burning orc bodies long before they saw them. The smoldering pile of bodies was lying a short distance in front of Fangorn Forest. As they rode into view the full force of the stench hit them and Thomas started gagging. He pulled Baldor up immediately, leaping off the horse before it even stopped moving, keeping a tight grasp on the reins as he did so. He emptied the contents of his stomach onto the ground. He stood panting and trembling for several minutes before walking shakily back to the horse. After taking several sips of water, Thomas leaned tiredly against his saddle, whispering soothing words when the horse tried to move away. He heard the sounds of a horse approaching behind him.

“Thomas?” Legolas’s voice called in concern, “Are you well?”

Thomas nodded, not looking up for a moment. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out a way to block the horrific smell, but it was not possible. He took another drink before looking up at Legolas in embarrassment.

“I’m all right, Legolas. I just got sick… the smell…” his voice faltered.

Legolas looked down at him with compassion in his kind blue eyes. “It is truly horrible,” he agreed. “I am used to the smell as I have been burning the bodies of orcs for over fifteen hundred years now,” he said with something like satisfaction in his voice. “Are you ready to ride on now? Aragorn and Gimli are already searching and we need your help.”

In answer, Thomas mounted Baldor, gritting his teeth as he rode on.

Reaching the spot where Hasufel was tethered, Thomas watched Legolas leap gracefully off his horse while he dismounted slowly, keeping a tight grip on Baldor. He stood looking anywhere but at the large pile of blackened bodies. He started to gag again, but he swallowed hard and forced it to stay down.

“Thomas, tie that horse and come here,” Aragorn called from the far side of the pile.

Quickly tying his horse next to Aragorn’s, Thomas hastened around the pile to where he was waiting.

“How do you feel?” Aragorn asked.

“Sick,” Thomas held his stomach and again fought the rising nausea.

“I remember the first time I saw and smelt burning orcs. I too got sick, it was not a pleasant experience,” Aragorn said wryly. “It does get easier. Now, I want you to check that section,” he pointed to an area between the orcs and a fallen log near the edge of the forest. “Look for any signs of Merry and Pippin. I know Legolas has been teaching you tracking skills, do the best you can,” Aragorn patted him on the back encouragingly. “Try not to breathe too much,” he said with a faint smile.

Nodding, Thomas looked at Aragorn apologetically, “I’m sorry for riding on the trail.”

“I know you are, Thomas. It is one of the things you need to be aware of in the future, do not do it again,” he said sternly. “Now, go to work,” Aragorn gave him a gentle shove towards his assigned area.

Legolas found the first signs. Aragorn hurried over while Gimli and Thomas hung back to give him room to work. Aragorn was quickly able to determine that the hobbits had, in fact, been there and had somehow managed to escape. He followed their tracks right to the edge of the forest and discovered they had gone inside. Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas stopped, glancing at each other in concern while Thomas just looked at them in confusion.

“What’s the matter? Why did we stop?”

“Fangorn Forest is an evil place, lad,” Gimli replied with a scowl.

Thomas looked at the forest, noticing the gloom, the bent and gnarled trees and he shuddered.

“This forest is not evil,” Legolas protested, “it is just very old. Even I feel young in its presence.”

“Clearly our path lies within,” Aragorn stated, “whether it is evil or not. We cannot abandon the hobbits now.” He glanced at the horses, wondering what to do with them while they searched. At that moment something frightened the horses badly and all three of them broke loose from their tethers, galloping north out of sight, heedless of the yells of their new masters.

“Éomer will not be pleased,” Aragorn commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m not anxious to see him anyway,” Thomas mumbled.

“It is a long walk to Edoras,” Gimli growled.

Aragorn bit back a grin at Thomas’s comment and headed into the forest. There was nothing they could do about the horses now and finding the hobbits was their chief concern. It was often hard to follow the signs left by the hobbits on the leaf-covered ground and the trail disappeared for long stretches, but Aragorn was always able to find some small clue to lead them on.

They walked for hours, finding the going easier once the hobbits had decided to follow a small stream. The four hunters took a brief break, eating quickly and re-filling their waterskins before moving on.

Legolas suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. “Aragorn,” he whispered urgently, “Someone is out there.”

“Where?” he asked, drawing his sword.

Thomas drew his as well, looking around wide-eyed, as Gimli stood with his axe raised. The trees started creaking and groaning.

“Gimli, lower your axe!” Aragorn called. Gimli reluctantly complied.

The four stared in wonder and shock as Gandalf slowly walked out between the trees in front of them, a swirl of white shining under his dirty grey cloak.

“Well met, my friends,” he said quietly with a smile.

Legolas recovered first. “Mithrandir!” he cried with joy in his voice, “well met indeed!” A brilliant smile covered his face.

Gimli bowed reverently, still staring at the wizard.

Finally, Aragorn found he could speak, “How is this possible?” he asked in a strained voice. “I saw you die.” He looked at his friend in disbelief, wanting to touch him to make sure he was indeed real and not some phantom caused by Fangorn.

“I am quite real, Aragorn, old friend.” Aragorn started at his comment and Gandalf laid his hand on his arm. “I did indeed fall to my doom, but I was sent back to complete my task.” Gandalf turned his gaze to Thomas who was still staring at him in shock. “Your reaction reminds me of a certain young lady I saw in Lothlórien when I first returned there,” he said with a small laugh.

“Rebecca? You have seen Rebecca?” Thomas asked eagerly.

“Yes, quite recently in fact,” Gandalf replied with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Come, sit and tell me what has passed since you left Lothlórien.”

They told him all that had happened in the day’s just past. Gandalf was encouraged to learn that Sam had gone with Frodo and deeply saddened to hear of Boromir’s death. He told them of all that had happened with him and the Balrog and what he knew of Merry, Pippin and Treebeard.

0-0-0

Rebecca awoke with a start. She couldn’t believe she had fallen asleep, but realized she had not slept very well the last few nights. She sat up, looking for Gandalf, but he was not in sight and was immediately nervous. Fangorn was not someplace she wanted to be alone and she wondered where he had gone.

Standing and stretching, Rebecca heard a distant noise that sounded like voices. Snatching up her bow, she nocked an arrow before sliding around behind the tree. Biting her lip nervously, she considered the possibilities, it could be Gandalf talking to an Ent, or better yet he could be talking to the Fellowship, her face lighting up at that idea. Still, she needed to be careful, so she slipped through the forest as quietly as possible towards the sound of the voices.

As she neared, she relaxed as she picked out Aragorn’s deep voice, Legolas’s slightly musical tones and Gandalf’s voice. She then heard Gimli grunt, but did not hear either Thomas or Boromir and realized that one of them was probably the missing member of the Fellowship.

Rebecca stopped when she heard Legolas exclaim, “Someone is coming!”

“Put down your bow, Legolas, it is a dear friend of yours,” she heard Gandalf say. “Come along, young lady, do not keep us waiting.”

Rebecca stepped into the clearing to be met by the stunned expressions on the faces of her friends. She glanced around to see anger on Aragorn’s and absolute joy on Thomas’s. Thomas, Thomas is alive, her heart sang. But that means Boromir is dead, her eyes clouded in pain. Aragorn, Thomas, and Rebecca all spoke at once.

“Rebecca, what are you doing here?” Aragorn asked in fury, looking from her to Gandalf.

“Rebecca!” Thomas said joyfully, running to greet her.

“Boromir!” Rebecca cried in anguish, dropping to her knees in grief.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued…

Reviewers: Many thanks to everyone who is reading this story and especially to those who review. I appreciate the encouragement.

Elvish translations:

Hannon le – I thank thee
Navaer – farewell
mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 17 - Edoras

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Note: Words in […] are elvish and are translated at the end of the chapter.


Chapter 17 – Edoras

Rebecca sat in Thomas’s arms sobbing out her grief. He rocked her slightly as tears streamed down his cheeks as well. Legolas quietly moved over, placing a hand on her shoulder, murmuring soothingly in elvish, while Gimli stood nearby with his head bowed in grief.

Aragorn pulled Gandalf off to the side. “What is Rebecca doing here Gandalf? I left her in Lothlórien to keep her safe,” he said angrily, glancing over at her, his eyes softening in the face of her grief.

“She needs to be with you, Aragorn. Rebecca and Thomas did not come to Middle-earth by accident,” Gandalf answered. “If I had been with you in Lothlórien, I would have insisted she come with us.”

“She would have died at Amon Hen,” Aragorn hissed.

“Or, she could have made a difference that allowed Boromir to live,” the wizard replied. Aragorn paled as Gandalf continued, “Though, I do not believe that would have happened. They have a different purpose. It was probably for the best that she was left behind, it has made her stronger.”

“It has only been two weeks.”

“That is a long time when you are living in a strange place with people you do not know and with very few people who even speak your language. It also gave her extra time to practice archery. I spoke with Haldir, Rebecca is very good, Aragorn.”

“She told me she was learning right before we left.” Aragorn shook his head in frustration, “Gandalf, how can I take her with us into danger?”

“You have to trust that the Valar have some plan you cannot see, Aragorn. Do not leave her or Thomas behind.” Aragorn nodded reluctantly. Gandalf suddenly smiled, “You should be proud of Rebecca, Aragorn.”

“Why?”

“She refused to come the first time I asked,” Gandalf chuckled.

Aragorn looked at him in disbelief, “She did?”

“She said you had left her there to protect her and she did not want to disappoint you.” Aragorn smiled faintly. “Though, she also said that she did not agree with you.”

“That is an understatement,” Aragorn said dryly.

“I convinced her to come after promising to explain everything to you first. Will you be able to speak with Rebecca without anger?” Gandalf gazed at him searchingly.

Aragorn ran his fingers through his hair before nodding. “In truth, I am angrier at you than Rebecca,” he admitted quietly. “I am mostly worried for her,” glancing again at her, to see that she had calmed somewhat. “After all, you brought her,” he pointed out with a wry smile. “However,” he sighed deeply, “I will bow to you greater wisdom in this.”

-

Rebecca felt as if her heart was breaking and she clung to Thomas desperately. She had known in her head that one of her friends was dead, but to face the actual reality of it was overwhelming. Great gasping sobs tore from someplace deep inside of her and she pressed her face into Thomas’s chest to stifle her cries.

She was vaguely aware of Thomas’s hands stroking her face and hair comfortingly and the soothing sounds of elvish words being murmured nearby that gave her a sense of peace. But, then images of Boromir would flash through her mind and the raw, gut-wrenching grief would well up again. Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the pictures of Boromir that kept popping into her mind. The ones where he looked so serious, but there was a twinkle in his eyes when he was teasing her; or when she had been injured and he was carefully helping her to climb over a log; or any of the times when he was talking with her in a kind and courtly manner. But, keeping her eyes shut did not stop the images from coming and it did nothing to stop the pain.

Rebecca’s loud sobbing had stopped, though tears still flowed heavily down her cheeks as she started to calm down from the first initial pangs of grief. She looked up to see tears on Thomas’s cheeks as he studied her, his eyes matching the sorrow she felt.

“Hello, Rebecca,” Thomas said softly, bending and kissing her tenderly on the forehead.

“I’m glad you’re all right, Thomas,” she whispered hoarsely, reaching up to gently touch his cheek. “We knew something had happened… we-we just didn’t know who it was…he can’t be dead… why is he dead?” she stared past him sightlessly.

“I-I don’t know,” Thomas stammered, struggling to bring his own emotions back under control while he searched for an answer. “Because…well…I just don’t know Rebecca.”

“It hurts, Thomas,” she looked up at him pleadingly as if he could stop the pain. “I don’t understand why he had to die.”

Thomas thought of all the things people had told him when his father had died, but none of them fit this situation and he knew none of them would bring comfort to Rebecca. “Rebecca, I miss him so much,” he whispered, “but-but I don’t know why he died. Only-only God or-or these Valar know that.” He embraced her tightly as Legolas crouched down beside them.

“You want an answer that will heal the pain in your heart, Rebecca, but there are none,” Legolas said gently. “Only time will heal your heart, young one.”

“It’s not fair, Legolas,” she whispered, not looking at him. “Those filthy orcs should be dead,” she sobbed brokenly, “not a man like Boromir.”

“Yes, the orcs should be dead,” Legolas agreed with a sigh. “In all my long years I have seen many great warriors killed by orcs. It is a risk we all take to defend our land and people. I know that brings you no comfort, Rebecca. Boromir was your friend, but he was also a fierce warrior,” he said softly. “He knew the risks he was taking when he set out on this journey.”

Rebecca turned away from him and looked off into the distance, not saying anything for a long time. Finally, Legolas spoke again.

“Why have you joined us, Lady Rebecca?” he asked gently as he glanced meaningfully at Thomas. Thomas blinked in surprise, trying to understand what the look meant.

Rebecca turned slowly to Legolas, “Gandalf said I need to be with you… that I have a purpose here.”

“I am sure you do, you and Thomas both,” he agreed. “I am glad to have you with us again.”

“I missed you all terribly,” Rebecca said, straightening up in Thomas’s arms. Thomas suddenly realized that Legolas was trying to get Rebecca talking and to stop her from withdrawing from them in her grief. “It was hard being there alone,” she continued.

“How did you get here, lass?” Gimli asked, sitting down beside them.

“Gandalf and I rode a horse for a couple of days,” she replied quietly, “and then we walked through this place for the last few days.” She shivered and Thomas hugged her again.

“I noticed you were carrying a bow. Did you learn how to use it?” Legolas asked.

Pushing herself to her feet, Rebecca looked around wildly, wiping tears away as she did so. “I dropped it, I hope it didn’t break,” she groaned.

Legolas handed it to her with a small smile, “It is not that easy to break a bow of the Galadhrim.”

[“Hannon le,] Legolas,” Rebecca said as she quickly ran her hands over the bow, checking it for cracks, sighing in relief when none were readily apparent.

Thomas watched Rebecca as she unstrung the bow and slung it over shoulder with the ease of long practice. “Who taught you?” he asked.

“Haldir. I started the same time you did, but Lady Galadriel didn’t want anyone to know. She thought Aragorn wouldn’t approve…” Rebecca’s voice dropped to a whisper as she glanced over at him, remembering his anger when he had first seen her. She hoped Gandalf would be able to calm him down, she didn’t think she could take him yelling at her. Rebecca wiped away the tears that started falling again.

“Are you any good?” Gimli asked gruffly.

“Yes,” Rebecca nodded, “I am.”

“I would like to see you shoot, Lady…” Legolas was interrupted by the return of Aragorn and Gandalf.

Aragorn saw the flicker of fear that crossed Rebecca’s face as he approached and while it saddened him, he wasn’t surprised. She had heard the anger in his voice earlier and she knew how he felt about her being here in the first place.

“Rebecca,” he said gently as he reached her, his eyes full of compassion as her tears started to fall. Without further thought he pulled her into a fatherly embrace while she cried bitterly. “I am sorry about Boromir, Rebecca. It is a grief we all share,” he said quietly before he released her.

“I know, Aragorn,” she said with a weary sigh, wiping away tears once again.

Gandalf’s voice made them look up, “We must leave for Edoras as soon as possible.” His kind blue eyes lingering on Rebecca. “I am sorry, Rebecca that we do not have time now to mourn Boromir properly. However, you know that he would want us to try and protect his city and Middle Earth, do you not?” he asked quietly.

Rebecca nodded, “You’re right, Gandalf, he would. His-his home was the most important thing to him.” She choked back a sob as she remembered his promise to show her Minas Tirith and she glanced at Thomas. He gazed at her with total understanding in his eyes before moving to her and taking her hand.

“Now, young lady, go and gather your things so that we may depart,” Gandalf directed.

Rebecca turned and left the clearing, pulling Thomas along with her.

“I suspected she was in love with someone,” Gandalf commented. “I am relieved to discover it is Thomas and not a certain merry elf,” he said with an amused smile.

The others laughed quietly, all of them well aware of Rebecca’s initial reactions to Legolas.

0-0-0

Out of sight and earshot of the clearing, Thomas stopped and pulled Rebecca into a fierce embrace. “I missed you so much, Rebecca. I didn’t know I could miss anyone like this.”

“Me, too,” she whispered, leaning against him and laying her head on his shoulder. “I was so lonely without you, I missed our walks and talking with you… just being with you.”

Thomas gently brushed some strands of hair from her face before tracing the curve of her jaw with his thumb. “I love you,” he murmured before softly kissing her, his kisses quickly turning more passionate as she responded to him, their loneliness and their pain fueling their need for each other. Thomas ran his fingers through her hair as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly moved his hand down her back… “Ouch,” he yelped as he jerked his hand back.

“What’s the matter?” Rebecca looked at his hand in concern.

“My hand ran into something sharp on your quiver,” he said with a grimace.

“I’m sorry,” Rebecca said, leaning against his chest once again.

“We should probably go, the others are waiting.”

Rebecca nodded and led the way to where her packs were lying.

Aragorn looked at Rebecca and Thomas sharply as they returned, noting their flushed faces. While he was faintly amused, he was concerned about the possible distractions their relationship could cause. He glanced at Gandalf to see the same concerned look in his eye, but he said nothing as they headed off.

0-0-0

“It is a long walk to Edoras,” Gimli complained as they neared the edge of the forest.

“I do not intend to walk, master dwarf,” Gandalf replied.

“You may not, but our horses ran off,” Legolas reminded him.

“We shall see.”

“I have discovered that Gandalf loves to be mysterious,” Rebecca said to no one in particular.

“I found that out many years ago,” Aragorn said dryly.

Gandalf ignored them.

Leaving the darkness of the forest behind and stepping into the late afternoon sun caused all of them, except Legolas, to breathe a sigh of relief. He looked back longingly, “I will return one day to explore this forest,” he vowed.

Gandalf suddenly loosed a long piercing whistle that echoed in the air around them. He waited, leaning on his staff as his eyes scanned the plains to the north. Soon the distant sounds of hoofbeats could be heard.

“Shadowfax,” Rebecca said quietly as the horse galloped into view, followed by the other three horses.

“He’s beautiful,” Thomas said, “is that the one you rode?”

“Uh huh, he’s really fast.”

“Well, Gandalf was right, we will not have to walk to Edoras,” Gimli announced.

“I usually am, Gimli,” the wizard gazed down at the dwarf with a smile.

While Shadowfax, Arod, and Hasufel came quickly to their riders, Thomas had a hard time with Baldor. Thomas would approach slowly, talking softly and soothingly and the horse would dance just out of reach. Growing increasingly frustrated and knowing he could not take that out on the horse, Thomas walked away taking deep breaths to calm down. He was staring into the distance with his hands on his hips when he heard the sound of Baldor approaching behind him. He froze. The horse blew in his hair before nudging him in the back several times. Thomas turned slowly, grabbing the reins while he softly patted the horse. “So this is all a game to you, is it boy?” he asked quietly, reaching up to scratch him between his eyes. Shaking his head in annoyance, Thomas led his now seemingly docile horse back to where the others were waiting with amused looks on their faces.

“You can ride with me, Rebecca,” Thomas said eagerly.

“Not on that horse,” Aragorn said flatly. “You need both of your hands free to control it. She is riding with me, I want to speak with her.” Aragorn did not miss the look of dismay that crossed Rebecca’s face, nor the pleading glance she threw at Gandalf.

Thomas opened his mouth to argue before mumbling under his breath and walking away, jerking on the reins to bring his horse along.

“Rebecca, we need to go,” Aragorn motioned for her to join him at his horse.

Clenching her jaw, Rebecca walked over reminding herself that Gandalf had insisted she come and that Aragorn should be mad at him, not her.

“Be at peace, Rebecca,” Aragorn said quietly as he took her pack and attached it to the saddle. “I am not angry with you, though my harsh words earlier indicated otherwise.”

“Gandalf said I needed to come,” Rebecca said looking up at him to make sure he understood.

“I know, he told me and I understand, though I am still very concerned for your safety,” he said with a sigh. “Do you know how to mount a horse?”

Rebecca shook her head, “We rode bareback and Gandalf just pulled me up.”

“You need to learn.” He showed her how to put her foot in the stirrup, grab the pommel and haul herself up. She struggled a bit because Hasufel was such a tall horse, but was quickly seated with Aragorn sitting behind her.

Rebecca watched as Thomas’s horse danced around nervously, though he did bring him quickly under control. “I’m glad I’m riding with you,” she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder at Aragorn.

“Thomas has his hands full,” he agreed as they set off, galloping west towards the setting sun. As they rode late into the night, Aragorn and Rebecca spoke of many things. Rebecca told him of her days in Lothlórien; he was especially interested in her archery skills, asking pointed questions about her accuracy and distance. Aragorn told her of their journey down the river, meeting Éomer, and, only when she insisted, did he give her brief details of how Boromir died. Rebecca said nothing when he finished, just squeezed his arm that was around her waist, sighing deeply as a few tears fell. They fell quiet after that, both lost in their own thoughts until Rebecca fell asleep, leaning back against Aragorn.

Sometime after midnight, Gandalf called a halt. “The horses need to rest for a few hours.”

Rebecca gingerly dismounted from Hasufel amazed that she could feel so stiff even after the time she spent riding Shadowfax and she wondered how long it took to get used to riding a horse. “Can I help you, Aragorn?”

“Take the packs,” he handed her several bags and her bedroll, “and get some sleep. I will be along shortly.”

“I’m going to walk around for a minute.”

“Do not wander far,” he cautioned as he stripped the saddle off the horse.

“All right.” Rebecca dropped the packs near the others she could see in the dim moonlight before she slowly walked up a small incline stretching her legs as she walked. Halfway up she realized someone was standing there and she paused uncertainly.

“You may join me, Lady Rebecca,” Legolas invited quietly, not turning around.

“I don’t want to disturb you,” she replied as she stepped up beside him.

“You are not disturbing me, I am merely enjoying the view,” Legolas lifted his head to indicate the sky above them.

Rebecca looked up at the vast array of stars shimmering brightly against the velvet blackness of the sky. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“Elves are most at home under the stars.”

“Why?”

“There were only stars when elves first awoke in Middle Earth. The sun and moon did not appear for thousands of years.”

“No sun and no moon,” Rebecca muttered. “It is hard to imagine, Legolas,” she said shaking her head.

“It is hard for me to imagine and I have known about it all my life,” Legolas said with amusement. “But, I know that I prefer the starlight. Should you not be sleeping? It has been a difficult day and we have far to travel tomorrow,” he glanced down at her with concern in his eyes.

Rebecca paused before answering, “It has been a rather difficult day, Legolas,” she sighed as tears filled her eyes. “Tomorrow will be better. Good-night,” she whispered.

“Good-night, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca returned slowly to the ‘camp’ blinking back tears before retrieving her bedroll from the pile and laying it out next to Gimli. “I’m glad we don’t have horses to tend to, Gimli.”

“Bah, I wish we didn’t have to ride horses at all,” he grumbled.

“You’d rather walk?” she asked in surprise.

“Aye, lass, I would, if we had the time. Dwarf legs are meant for walking.”

“Well, I’d rather ride.”

Thomas laid his bedroll down next to Rebecca, dropping onto it with a weary sigh. “That damn horse,” he muttered.

“Gave you a rough time, did he lad?”

“Yes,” Thomas replied shortly. “I swear Éomer gave me that horse on purpose just to spite me.”

“Possibly,” Gimli laughed, “though he only had three spares.”

“He could have given it to Legolas or Aragorn.”

“Given what to me?” Aragorn asked, crouching down beside Thomas.

“Baldor.”

Aragorn chuckled, “He is a handful,” he admitted “though you handle him well. How is your arm?”

“Sore, now that you ask, but it doesn’t bother me much.”

“Good. I would like to talk with you for a moment.” Aragorn grabbed Thomas’s arm and pulled him to his feet as he stood. He led Thomas a short distance away before turning and looking at him. “Thomas, I will be blunt with you. I know not how it is in your world, but here we take a woman’s honor very seriously.”

Thomas looked at him in confusion. “I know, Boromir and I talked about it, Aragorn.”

“You and Rebecca are both wards in my keeping and I expect you to treat her honorably.”

“Of course, I would never hurt her,” Thomas said stiffly, offended by Aragorn’s words.

“Thomas, I saw your faces today as you returned to the clearing.” Thomas blushed with embarrassment and looked down. “You need to be in control of yourself. It is one thing to kiss a maiden, but you can go no further until, and if you get married.”

“I-I wouldn’t Aragorn, you know I wouldn’t.”

Aragorn lifted an eyebrow and smiled slightly, “You forget I was once your age, Thomas,” he said. “I do not want you sleeping next to her either.”

Thomas’s eyes widened in shock, “But-but, we have since we’ve been here.”

“I know, Thomas, but things have changed between the two of you and it is no longer proper.”

“Can I even talk to her anymore?” he mumbled.

“Thomas,” Aragorn growled

“Sorry, Aragorn, but it doesn’t seem fair.”

Aragorn sighed, “It may not, however, that is the way we do things here. Is it really that different in your world?”

“Everything is different in my world, Aragorn, you know that,” Thomas shook his head in frustration. “But most people wait until they are married before…” he stopped, embarrassed.

“Thomas, there will be plenty of time for you to properly court Rebecca later. This is not the best of times for courting a lady,” Aragorn said dryly. “You need to keep your focus on what you need to be doing and not on Rebecca. Your life… all of our lives may depend on that. Do you understand?” he asked gently.

Thomas nodded, “Yes.”

“Go get some rest now,” Aragorn clasped his shoulder briefly.

Thomas slowly returned to where the others were lying, relieved to see that Rebecca and Gimli were already asleep. He quietly picked up his bedroll and moved it to the other side of Gimli, though he lay awake for a long time, thinking.

0-0-0-0-0

Dawn found them back on their horses heading to Edoras. Baldor had been calmer; much to Thomas’s relief who knew Aragorn would never let Rebecca ride with him as long as the horse kept acting up. Though he may never let her ride with me anyway, it’s probably not proper, he snorted inwardly. He was looking forward to seeing Edoras, the first city of men they had visited, though he was well aware of the dangers they were facing in the days ahead. He shuddered slightly at the thought of fighting again. Thomas suddenly realized that his father did this for years before he was killed and that he hadn’t been much older than he was now. Thomas glanced at Aragorn and wondered how it was possible that he had been fighting and killing orcs for more than sixty years. Though, he knew that things would end soon, one way or the other. He hoped Frodo and Sam were all right.

“Here, Rebecca, I want you to take these,” Aragorn said suddenly, indicating the reins.

“Now?” she asked not moving.

“You need to learn sometime.”

“On a galloping horse? Can’t we wait and start on one that’s standing still?”

“No, you do not have the time. You have good balance, you already know how to move with the horse, and I am with you to guide you.”

“All right, what do I do?” she straightened up in the saddle.

“Do not pull back on the reins when I give them to you or Hasufel will slow and then stop.” Rebecca nodded. “See how I have the reins wrapped around my hands?” She nodded again. “You can try it that way for now or find a way that suits you better. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she reached for the reins and Aragorn slowly gave them to her. Hasufel faltered a bit as they changed hands, but then galloped on. Rebecca held her hands stiffly in front of her trying not to move.

“Relax, Rebecca,” Aragorn chuckled, gently pushing her hands down to rest on the pommel of the saddle. He spent time explaining how to guide the horse and he watched closely as the tension left her body. He let her control the horse for the next several hours, calmly giving her directions when needed.

0-0-0

They saw Edoras sitting atop a high, lonely foothill sticking out from the White Mountains an hour before they reached it. Stopping for a moment to rest the horses after they crossed the Snowbourn Rover, Gandalf looked them over, his eyes lingering on Rebecca and Thomas. “Be careful with your words, strangers are not welcome in King Théoden’s halls.” Thomas snorted and looked away. “Thomas, Rebecca, say nothing of where you are from.” Both looked at him in surprise.

“What do we say?” Rebecca asked.

Gandalf glanced at Aragorn who shrugged before he spoke, “I do not know… they are clad in elvish clothing and have elvish weapons,” he said thoughtfully with a slight frown. “They are my wards… they could be from Rivendell.”

“That will work,” Gandalf said with an approving nod.

“Why can’t we tell them?” Thomas looked from Aragorn to Gandalf in confusion. “We told the elves.”

“The people of Rohan are very suspicious of everyone… as you well know, Thomas,” Aragorn explained, “even if they were not at war. And, in truth, I am not sure I would believe your story if we had not found you ourselves.”

“I know I wouldn’t,” Gimli grunted.

“Elves are more accepting, Thomas” Legolas said. “We live so long that we are open to things that mortal men are not.”

“I guess I’m so used to all of you knowing and understanding that it is hard for me to think that other people won’t,” Thomas shook his head and looked away. “Will we never be able to tell anyone else who we really are?”

“I know not, Thomas,” Gandalf answered quietly, “but for now you are from Rivendell.”

“Well, as long as no one asks me to describe Rivendell to them, I guess that will be all right,” he gave Aragorn a faint smile.

“It is beautiful and it has lots of waterfalls,” Aragorn said helpfully.

“Well, what about me? Won’t they think it’s strange that I’m with you?” Rebecca asked. “I mean, from the way you guys act,” she looked over her shoulder at Aragorn who smiled, “it isn’t usual for girls to do this kind of stuff.”

“I believe you will be fine, Rebecca,” Aragorn replied. “Rohan has a history of shield-maidens and if anyone asks, we will tell them of your skill with a bow.” He shrugged and glanced at Gandalf who nodded before saying, “Let’s ride on.”

-

The gates of Edoras were closed when they arrived shortly before noon. Many guards stood waiting with swords drawn as they dismounted. Thomas kept a tight hold on Baldor as the horse seemed to recognize its home and was trying to pull away.

Rebecca stood with Gimli and Legolas watching as Aragorn and Gandalf spoke with the guards in some other language. “Do you understand what they are saying, Legolas?” she whispered. He shook his head with a slight frown and she decided it would be best to keep quiet.

Aragorn could not believe the hostile reception they were receiving. He knew the Rohirrim would be somewhat suspicious, but Éomer had practically begged him to come to Edoras just two days ago. It took a lot of persuasion from both Gandalf and himself before the gates were opened and they were allowed to enter the city.

Walking with Rebecca, after their horses were led to the stables, Thomas was stunned as he looked around at this ‘city’. He glanced at Rebecca to see the same wide-eyed stare on her face. “This is a city?” he leaned over and whispered in her ear. She shrugged and continued looking around.

The buildings were all wooden of course, he’d expected that. But, the roofs were thatched and it appeared many of the floors were dirt or the large flat rocks like the ones that made the road they were walking upon. There was evidently no indoor plumbing as a clear sparkling stream was running down the hill alongside the road and women were dipping out buckets of water from it. It was a large city with hundreds of buildings, but Thomas had a hard time telling which were houses and which might be a shop of some kind. This is nothing like Caras Galadhon, he thought with dismay.

They passed an open air market on their way up the winding hill to the large building that Thomas could see sitting proudly against the skyline. Rebecca grabbed Thomas’s arm, pulling him to a stop and pointed at the stall in the market that sold what looked to be sweets of some kind. “Those look good,” she whispered. Thomas smiled, “Maybe we can come back later.” Aragorn turned and frowned at them and they hurried to catch up.

Aragorn paused when he reached the broad steps that led up to the great golden hall of Meduseld. It had been many long years since he had been here, serving Rohan with a different name and under a different king. He shook his head slightly as he followed Gandalf up the steps. Reaching the top, they were stopped at the door by more guards, one stepped forward.

“I am Háma, doorward of Théoden King. You must leave your weapons here,” he said firmly.

Rebecca and Thomas exchanged glances, but started to remove their swords and bows. Rebecca realized that she had grown so comfortable wearing the weapons that it felt strange to have them removed. “Please be careful with these, like Legolas’s mine were also gifts,” she said quietly to the guard who had just taken Legolas’s bow. The man nodded before quickly placing her weapons against the wall.

“I am uneasy about leaving my sword here,” Aragorn said, staring at Háma with narrowed eyes.

“Nonetheless, it is the will of my king that you do so.”

“This is Anduril, the blade that cut the Ring from Sauron’s hand,” Aragorn hesitated before slowly unbuckling his belt. He set the sword against the wall himself and pierced Háma with a stern glare. “I charge you to see that no one touches my sword, for anyone who does so will surely die. Only Elendil’s heir may touch this blade.” Thomas’s eyes widened as he remembered all the times he had used Aragorn’s sword.

“I need to take your staff as well,” Háma said hesitantly as he looked at Gandalf.

Gandalf leaned heavily on his staff and peered at Háma with his piercing blue eyes, “Would you really deprive an old man of his walking stick?” he asked quietly.

Háma sighed and shook his head, “No, for I believe that you are not here for evil purposes as some have said.” He turned and gestured for the doors to be opened and the six of them entered Meduseld.

The great hall seemed dark and gloomy, but as Rebecca’s eyes adjusted she could see the true beauty of the place. Intricate carvings of horses covered the wooden pillars that lined both sides of the hall. Colorful, woven tapestries that depicted a single horseman or battles hung from the walls, the floor was made of some type of red stone that had been smoothly fitted together. A huge fire pit was in the middle of the room and they walked past it, stopping just on the far side.

At the end of the room on a raised dais sat a man, who Rebecca assumed was King Théoden. He’s really old, she thought with surprise as she glanced at Thomas. He nodded slightly as she flicked her eyes to the king and back to Thomas with a look of surprise. The king had long white hair and wore a thin gold circlet with a single white diamond on his forehead. A young woman in a white dress and long golden hair stood next to Théoden and a man with pale skin and evil-looking eyes leaned on the steps at the king’s feet. Rebecca stopped, standing between Legolas and Thomas, listening as Gandalf spoke to Théoden.

“Hail, Théoden! I have returned, a storm is coming and we must face it together.”

Théoden slowly and carefully arose, keeping himself steady with the use of a small black cane. “While I greet you, Gandalf Stormcrow, I do not welcome you into my halls. Ever you have only brought ill news with you. I was not grieved when I heard of your passing and look here you have come again to darken my halls with evil tidings. Why should I welcome you?” He sat down heavily.

“A fair question, my lord,” the man on the steps asked as he sat up, staring at Gandalf and his companions with his strange eyes. Rebecca shivered at the look. “Your son Théodred is dead and in Éomer we cannot trust. Now this wanderer appears with news that will undoubtedly cause you to worry needlessly. His ill news makes him an ill guest.”

“I am sure that you are a great help to your master Gríma Wormtongue,” Gandalf replied mildly. “But one who brings news of evil may not be a worker of evil but simply one who comes to bring aid in a time of need.”

Gríma laughed grimly, “And what aid do you bring? I see a rag-tag collection of wanderers clad in grey and you the most beggarly looking of all!”

Gandalf turned back to Théoden, “Did your guards not tell you the names of my companions? Never have such warriors graced your halls, Théoden. They are clad in grey for they have passed through the woods of Lothlórien…”

Thomas’s attention wandered for a moment as he wondered where Éomer was and why he had not appeared, since he had seemed to be an important man. Not that I want to see him again, he thought darkly. Yet, he knew Éomer had wanted Aragorn to come and he didn’t seem like the kind of man to change his mind so quickly. Maybe he had to ride out again, Thomas thought before blinking as a brilliant flash of light filled the hall and a crash of thunder sounded. Gandalf threw off his grey robes to reveal the shining white ones he wore underneath.

“Be silent, Gríma, your words are a poison to all who hear them,” Gandalf said in a stern and commanding voice as he pointed his staff at the man. Gríma cowered in the face of the power of the revealed white wizard. Théoden seemed to be suddenly strengthened and rose to his feet dropping his cane and slowly walked towards Gandalf, who led him outside. The king was helped by the woman, while Gríma was left lying on the floor, evidently stunned by the light and in fear of Gandalf. Aragorn and the others followed them outside.

“Look upon your lands, Théoden son of Thengel. It is not as dark as Gríma Wormtongue has told you,” Gandalf gestured to the green fields and grasslands surrounding the city. The fields full of horses, the sun shining in the blue sky. “Éowyn,” he said to the young woman helping the king, “leave Théoden in my care for a time.”

Rebecca studied Éowyn, she was young, though older than her by several years. She is beautiful, though she seems… distant and eyes are full of pain, Rebecca realized and wondered what caused such sadness. As Éowyn left the king, Rebecca noticed how she looked at Aragorn with widened, interested eyes, while he just nodded once politely. Her eyes swept over the rest of the group dispassionately, pausing when she saw Rebecca standing next to Thomas. She smiled and nodded, and Éowyn nodded back before hurrying inside.

“Where is Éomer?” Aragorn asked suddenly. “I would return the horses to him as I promised.”

“Éomer threatened to spill blood in my halls. He is not your concern,” Théoden said sharply, staring up at him.

“Release him from your prison, Théoden,” Gandalf urged. “He loves and honors you and your people. Though, he has no love for Gríma.”

Théoden nodded slowly before calling to Háma, “Bring Éomer here swiftly.”

“Where is your sword, Théoden?” Gandalf asked. “It will lend strength to your hands and body.”

“It was put away for ‘safekeeping’ some time ago at Gríma’s suggestion,” he said bitterly. “I know not where my sword lies now.”

“Take mine, Théoden King,” Éomer said boldly as he was suddenly on his knees before his king with his head bowed, his sword on his outstretched hands before him.

At least he bows to someone, Thomas thought with an inward sigh not at all happy to see Éomer again. If he calls me boy again I’ll… What? What can I do? He’s at least ten years older than me and weighs thirty pounds more – all of it muscle. Still, I have to find some way to prove to him that I’m not a boy. Thomas sighed. He turned when he felt a hand on his shoulder to find Legolas regarding him with amusement in his eyes. Thomas gave him a faint smile.

Gríma was suddenly dragged out of the hall and thrown onto the ground in front of Théoden. He was followed by a guard who had found the king’s sword, Éomer’s was returned to him and Théoden buckled on his own.

“Gríma,” Théoden said sternly, “I lay a choice before you. I will be leaving tomorrow to ride to war. You may go with us and prove your worth in battle or go your way as you will.”

“My King, always have I served you. Do not listen to the lies of a wandering fool,” he hissed before his voice turned smooth and beguiling. “If you have to leave, I will stay and run things in your stead. Someone must see to the needs of your people. They must have someone they trust to look to.”

Théoden nodded slowly, “That is true and I will give it some thought. However,” his voice turned to steel, “that person will not be you. You have weaved your spells about me for the last time Gríma. Now, what is your choice?”

Gríma licked his lips and looked around nervously.

“How long has it been since Saruman bought you?” Gandalf asked suddenly. “And what was the promised price? The usual spoils of war? Perhaps a fair maiden?”

Éomer sprang forward with a cry, his sword drawn and ready to strike.

“Hold, Éomer, sister-son,” Théoden commanded sharply. “Do not spill his blood on the steps of the hall.” Éomer bowed and sheathed his sword though he did not return to his former place.

“Choose now, Gríma,” Théoden said impatiently.

Gríma suddenly spat on the ground at his king’s feet before turning and running down the steps, followed by Éomer and some of the guards.

“Let him go,” Théoden commanded, “he has chosen his path.” He now turned his eyes on the four other members of the party traveling with Aragorn and Gandalf. “Who are these that travel with you, Gandalf?”

“Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, Gimli son of Gloin, Thomas son of Morgan, Lady Rebecca of Rivendell,” Gandalf replied as they bowed, except for Legolas who nodded his head once in greeting, as befitted his station.

“Welcome to Edoras and to Meduseld,” he motioned them back inside the building. “Come and find food and rest.”

As Gandalf moved off talking quietly with Théoden, Éomer returned from seeing Gríma off. “Aragorn!” he cried, “you have come as you promised.”

“Of course, Éomer,” he replied, glancing up as he belted his sword back on, “I told you I would.”

“I do not see any halflings with you,” Éomer frowned. “Are your friends’ dead then?” he asked in concern.

“No,” Aragorn shook his head, “Gandalf assures as they are safe and in the keeping of the ents.”

“The ents! You again bring strange tales!” Éomer’s face suddenly brightened as he gazed at Rebecca. “But, you have added a beautiful maiden to your company, Aragorn. Who is this?” he asked eagerly.

Rebecca’s cheeks turned red at Éomer’s words and the way he looked her up and down slowly with an approving grin.

“This is Lady Rebecca of Rivendell, my ward,” Aragorn’s voice held a hint of warning as he held Éomer’s gaze for a moment.

With a slight nod to Aragorn, Éomer stepped forward, “Welcome, Lady Rebecca,” he took her hand and kissed it lightly in greeting.

“Lord Éomer,” Rebecca bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement.

“Just Éomer, my lady,” he replied with a grin.

“Éomer,” she nodded, wondering again why they always insisted on calling her lady, but not allowing her to call them lord.

Éomer nodded a greeting to Legolas, Gimli and after what seemed like a hesitation to Rebecca, to Thomas as well. She heard Thomas draw in a sharp breath and she grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. He glanced down at her with a small smile.

“You must meet my sister. Éowyn!” Éomer called over to where she stood overseeing servants who were setting out tables.

Aragorn watched her approach with troubled eyes. He had seen the look she had given him earlier and it concerned him and he knew he must be care around her.

“Éowyn, this is Aragorn son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor,” Éomer declared.

Éowyn curtsied, “My lord,” she said as her eyes searched his face.

“Lady Éowyn,” Aragorn bowed slightly before turning back to Éomer.

“Sister, this is Lady Rebecca, Legolas, Gimli, … and, I’m sorry what was your name again, boy?”

Thomas could see the laughter in Éomer’s eyes as he looked at him. He shrugged, “I’m not sure I should bother telling you again, you obviously have a poor memory.” He stared at Éomer unblinkingly.

Aragorn looked at Thomas in shock, not believing what he has just heard. He glanced at Legolas to see a glint of amusement in his blue eyes as he waited for Éomer to respond.

“You seem to answer to ‘boy’ well enough, so it will suffice,” Éomer said with a small smirk before turning to Aragorn with a grin. “Éowyn has arranged for rooms for all of you. Lady Rebecca, Éowyn will take you to yours, the rest of you may follow Ceorl,” Éomer beckoned to one of the servants. “We shall eat when you return.”

Rebecca followed Éowyn down a hallway after giving Thomas a quick sympathetic look. Now she understood his comments last night about Éomer and the horse. She wondered why he treated Thomas as he did when he obviously liked Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas. It was obviously some game that only men played.

“Would you like a bath, Lady Rebecca?” Éowyn asked as they stepped into a room.

“Is there time? I thought we were going to eat,” Rebecca looked at Éowyn in surprise. She found hazel eyes regarding her closely and she stared right back. Éowyn was looking at her clothes, her sword and especially her bow. “Is there something the matter, Lady Éowyn?” she finally asked.

“What? Oh, forgive me for staring, Lady Rebecca,” Éowyn bowed slightly. “I’m unused to seeing a woman with weapons, especially a bow. I too am a shield-maiden and can wield a sword of course, but have never used a bow.”

“Please call me Rebecca,” she said as she removed her quiver and cloak, laying them on a small chest at the end of the bed. The room was smaller than her talan, containing just the bed, the chest, a chair, and a small table that held a bowl and pitcher. Still, the bed looked inviting and the stone floor was covered with fur rugs. “I am better with a bow than with a sword,” Rebecca confessed. “Though I keep practicing,” she frowned sadly as she thought of the times Boromir has worked with her.

Éowyn nodded, “Do you want to bathe now?” she asked again.

Rebecca shrugged, “I can wait until after we eat. I’ve been dirty this long a couple of more hours aren’t going to matter. I will just wash my face and hands,” she said moving to the small table.

Éowyn poured water into the bowl for her. “What is the name of the other man in your party,” she asked with a sidelong glance at Rebecca.

“Thomas,” she replied before dipping her hands into the cool water and starting to wash. “Thanks,” she said as Éowyn handed her a towel when she finished.

“You are Aragorn’s ward?” Éowyn asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” Rebecca nodded with a slight frown, not really wanting to answer questions about her relationship with Aragorn. Especially, since it might lead to questions about where she ‘lived’, since she wouldn’t be able to tell her about a place she had never seen.

“Is he a good man?” Éowyn asked, again with that same hesitation.

Rebecca smiled, “Yes he is, one of the best men I’ve ever known.”

“Is he… married or betrothed to anyone?” Éowyn’s eyes sparkled hopefully as the aura of sadness that normally surrounded her faded briefly.

Sighing, Rebecca shook her head, “Éowyn, these are questions you should speak to Aragorn about. I don’t like to talk about him behind his back like this.” Besides, she don’t know anything about it anyway.

“You’re right,” Éowyn said with a tone of regret. “We should return to the hall.”

-

Thomas leaned moodily against a pillar with his arms crossed as he waited for Rebecca to return. He would just have to ignore Éomer he decided as his eyes wandered around the hall. He glanced briefly at Aragorn as the ranger stopped beside him before he returned to his survey of the room.

“What do you think of Edoras?” Aragorn asked quietly.

Thomas shrugged, “It’s all right I guess. Though, it’s not what I expected,” he admitted, still looking out at the hall.

“In what way?” Aragorn prodded him, wanting him to talk.

Furrowing his brow in thought, Thomas responded slowly, “It’s more… rustic than I thought it would be. Not like a city where I come from.”

“Rustic?”

Thomas turned to face Aragorn, “Well, dirt floors, grass roofs, no water inside the houses… rustic.”

Aragorn nodded in understanding, “You are disappointed.” It was not a question.

“Yes…” he swallowed hard as he looked at Aragorn. “My life seems to be here in Middle-earth now and for me… and hopefully Rebecca,” he shot Aragorn a sly grin before turning serious again, “to have to live in a place like this…” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

“Look at me, Thomas,” Aragorn commanded softly as he laid a hand on the young man’s shoulder. Thomas looked up into the steady gaze of the taller man. “If we make it alive through the battles we have ahead of us, then where you live will be of little concern, so great will be your joy.” Aragorn smiled, “Edoras is not the only city. Minas Tirith is a city of white stone and very different than here. Dol Amroth by the sea is a beautiful city and there are others.” He saw relief flood Thomas’s eyes. “Now, I actually came to check on your arm now that we are in a place where I can tend it properly.”

Thomas grimaced, but followed Aragorn to a nearby table and sat on the bench while the bandages were unwrapped. “Does it hurt?” Aragorn glanced up at him questioningly.

“It’s still sore, but nothing like it did and nothing I can’t handle.”

Aragorn carefully probed around the wound, causing Thomas to hiss in pain. “Now that hurts,” he complained through gritted teeth.

“I am sure it does, I need some hot water,” Aragorn arose to find some. Thomas looked down, absently playing with one of the ties on his tunic as he thought about what Aragorn had said. He supposed it was a little early to worry about where Rebecca and he might live when he didn’t even know if they would live. He jumped when a loud voice sounded above him.

“What happened to you, boy?” Éomer looked down at him with a frown.

Hesitating briefly, Thomas knew he really couldn’t ignore the king’s nephew. “Orcs,” he said shortly, meeting Éomer’s gaze steadily.

Éomer dropped down beside him on the bench examining the wound closely. “It happened quite recently,” he observed.

Thomas sighed; it was obvious Éomer was not going away. “Yes, five days ago, the same day Boromir died,” he looked away, not wanting this man to see his grief.

“How did you find Baldor, boy?” Thomas looked back to find Éomer leaning back with his elbows on the table, a knowing smile on his lips.

“He’s a fine horse,” he replied, “though I found him poorly trained for a people who consider themselves ‘horse-masters’.”

Éomer stared hard at Thomas for a long moment and then threw back his head and laughed loudly. “Well said, boy. Éothain never did train that horse well.” He was still chuckling as Aragorn returned with the water.

Aragorn glanced swiftly between the two, noting Thomas’s clenched jaw and wondered what had happened this time. He set the water down and started to clean the wound without comment.

“Aragorn, you and your companions wear no armor, you may look through our armory and take what you need,” Éomer offered.

“It would be a good idea, this will be a different type of battle than what some of us have faced,” Aragorn said. He finished flushing out the wound and swiftly re-bandaged it. “It is healing well; I will take out the stitches in a few days.”

Thomas nodded and then stood as Rebecca entered the hall, smiling as she saw him. He crossed to meet her, taking her hand and pulling her a short distance away.

Aragorn followed them with his eyes before turning back to Éomer who was also watching Rebecca and Thomas with narrowed eyes.

“How many men will ride with us tomorrow, Éomer?”

“No more than a thousand. Some must accompany Éowyn as she leads the women and children to Dunharrow.” Éomer looked down with a slight frown. “There may be men at the Fords of Isen who yet live.” He lifted worried eyes to Aragorn, “It won’t be enough to defeat Saruman’s armies.”

Aragorn shrugged, “There is always hope while we are alive, Éomer. I will not give into despair. You well know a battle may turn at any moment on the smallest of things.”

“You’re right. Perhaps the bow of an elf, the axe of a dwarf, the sword of a man…and a boy,” he grinned, “will turn the tide in our favor.”

“You forgot about the wisdom of Gandalf,” Aragorn nodded to where the wizard was speaking with Théoden, “and the bow of a girl,” indicating Rebecca.

“You mean to take her with us?” Éomer exclaimed. “Why? She should go to Dunharrow with the women and children.”

“Rebecca rides with me,” Aragorn said firmly, looking at Éomer with stern grey eyes. “She is an elven trained archer and we have not so many men that we cannot use her.”

Éomer shook his head in disbelief, “Éowyn is also trained as a shield-maiden, but I would not have her go to war,” he said quietly.

Aragorn looked down, “Éowyn has a responsibility to lead your people, Éomer. Rebecca has a different path that she must follow,” he said with a hint of sorrow in his voice.

Éomer stared at Aragorn for a moment than nodded as he arose, “Let’s get some food.”

-

Rebecca poked at the food on her plate trying to decide whether to eat any more of it. It didn’t taste bad, just different. She finally just ate more of the bread as she listened to the discussion between Aragorn, Éomer, Gandalf, and Théoden. She was riding to battle orcs and Uruk-hai and she was wondering if she would really be able to do such a thing. Rebecca knew she could shoot… Haldir taught her well. All she could do was control what she could control, she repeated to herself. Rebecca looked up to see Éowyn gazing at Aragorn again and she wondered if she would speak with him and ask him the questions she had asked her. She shifted slightly on the hard wooden bench as an idea came to mind. “Legolas,” she whispered, pulling carefully on his sleeve. “Do you think there is someplace I could go and practice? It’s been several days now and I’m not so good that I can afford to miss practice.”

“It is well thought of Lady Rebecca,” Legolas replied quietly, “I would like to see you shoot.”

“You don’t have to watch,” Rebecca said hastily.

Legolas smiled, “Thomas and I will practice as well,” he glanced at Thomas over the top of Rebecca’s head who nodded in reply. Legolas stood gracefully, “Excuse us, my lord,” he nodded towards the king, “we shall take our leave of you now.” Thomas and Rebecca bowed slightly as they followed Legolas, and after a moment, Gimli tagged along.

Retrieving their cloaks and bows from their rooms, they strolled down through the gate to the practice field Legolas had seen earlier. Though it appeared the field was mostly used for sword work, Thomas found some archery targets off to the side and set them up about halfway down the field.

“Isn’t anyone else going to shoot?” Rebecca asked as she removed her cloak and strung her bow.

“Yes, we will,” Legolas looked pointedly over at Thomas where he was sitting next to Gimli.

“The target’s kind of close,” Rebecca said quietly to Legolas.

Legolas looked down at her in surprise and then gazed down the field at the target, “How far can you shoot?”

“Sixty yards, I lose too much accuracy after that.”

“That’s forty-five,” he said quietly, “would you like to leave it at that distance since others are watching?”

“Good idea,” she whispered nervously.

Legolas smiled and winked at her as he turned to join the others.

Rebecca laughed as she faced the target. She took several deep breaths to focus on the target and to block out the audience Control the things I can – stance, grip, draw, aim, release, she ran those through her mind as she pulled the first arrow from her quiver and set it to the string. As the arrow was released, Rebecca was back in the rhythm that she was accustomed to with Haldir and the quiver was soon emptied. Every arrow was embedded deeply in the target and packed tightly around the center. Rebecca smiled as she lowered her bow.

“Well shot, Lady Rebecca!” Gimli boomed.

She turned with a small satisfied smile to meet the approving eyes of Legolas, a grin from Gimli and a slightly stunned expression on Thomas’s face.

“Well done, Lady Rebecca. You have a good eye and excellent form,” Legolas said with a smile.

“Thanks.”

“That was…ummm…you’re really good, Rebecca,” Thomas stared at her. “I wish I were that good.” Rebecca’s face lit up with a brilliant smile.

“You could be Thomas, if you worked at it,” Legolas said mildly.

Thomas blushed slightly, “I’m good with a sword,” he pointed out, staring at Legolas.

“I did not say otherwise,” Legolas responded as he got to his feet. “Lady Rebecca, shall we move the target further back?”

-

Aragorn listened closely as Théoden discussed his plans with Gandalf. It was not much different than what he and Éomer had discussed earlier. A small force would go with Éowyn while the rest would ride hard to the Isen River to confront Saruman’s forces. There were really no other options available. He glanced at Gandalf, wondering what he was thinking.

“Aragorn, will your men fight under my direction?” Théoden asked suddenly.

“We shall fight alongside you, Théoden King. Our hearts are here with Rohan.”

Théoden frowned slight at the subtle distinction Aragorn was making, but he nodded. “Lady Rebecca will go with the women.”

“No,” Aragorn shook his head, “she rides with me,” he glanced sidelong at Gandalf.

“Battle is no place for a girl!” Théoden said angrily.

“Rebecca and Thomas are my wards. They ride with me,” Aragorn repeated firmly. “Rebecca is a skilled archer and healer, we have need of both.”

“Are Rebecca and Thomas brother and sister then?” Éomer broke in, an interested gleam in his eyes.

“No.” Aragorn fixed him with a hard stare, “They are in my keeping because their parents died, and they have no kin.”

Éomer’s eyes softened, “It is hard to lose one’s parents,” he said quietly.

Aragorn nodded in agreement.

“Come, come,” Gandalf said impatiently, “enough about our young ones, we have other things to discuss.”

Théoden frowned briefly at Aragorn before turning his attention back to their planning.

-

“Come Aragorn, stop brooding and let’s find the others.”

Aragorn looked up at Gandalf from the step he was sitting on in front of Meduseld, glancing around before he responded. “Brooding? Who says I am brooding?” he asked as he got to his feet and followed the wizard down the steps.

“I do, I can see it in your eyes.”

“I suppose I am,” Aragorn admitted wryly. “I am concerned about the number of men we have. We have too few, Gandalf. Saruman’s Uruk-hai are fierce fighters and I fear for the people of Rohan.”

“I know,” Gandalf said as they passed through the gate, “it will not be an easy task. We must find a way, Aragorn. Saruman must be stopped here so that Gondor is not attacked on two fronts.” He glanced back up the hill, “I fear that Théoden may overestimate the strength of his men and does not take the threat of Saruman as seriously as he should. Grima’s influence is not easily put aside.”

Aragorn nodded grimly as they approached the practice field. They leaned on the fence watching as Rebecca and Thomas practiced. Legolas stood to one side quietly giving Thomas tips, while Rebecca was shooting on the other side of the field.

“She is good,” Aragorn said quietly after Rebecca had shot a quiver of arrows.

“Haldir told me she was.”

“I know, but considering the short amount of time she has been training… I am impressed.”

“She spent hours practicing when you were gone,” Gandalf commented,” and Haldir is an excellent teacher.”

Rebecca finished pulling the arrows from the target and started back. She paused briefly when she saw Aragorn and Gandalf at the fenced, but then shrugged mentally and went to talk with them.

“Have you been watching long?” she asked with a smile.

“No, young lady,” Gandalf replied with an answering smile, “just long enough to see you shoot the last quiver.”

“Oh.”

“You shoot well, Rebecca,” Aragorn said, “you have worked hard.”

Rebecca ducked her head for a moment and then looked at him with shining eyes. “I have, Aragorn, thank you.”

“Are you finished?”

Shrugging, Rebecca squinted at the sun, “I’ve only practiced an hour or so. I could use another hour.”

Aragorn glanced at Gandalf before speaking. “It might be wise to save your strength. We will ride long and hard tomorrow and face a determined foe at the end of it. I want you rested.”

“I will fight then?” Rebecca asked with a curious mixture of excitement and fear on her face.

Sighing, Aragorn looked away before fixing his gaze on her. “I will let you shoot your arrows… and any other arrows we might find for you. But, then I will have you retreat to a place of safety… if it is possible.” He glanced back at Gandalf, who nodded slightly. “Your sword work is just not good enough to stand up against the Uruk-hai.”

Rebecca nodded with relief, “That makes sense to me, I don’t want to see any orcs up close like we did in Moria.”

“Good. Thomas, Gimli, Legolas,” Aragorn raised his voice slightly to call them over. “Éomer has said we may take whatever armor we need from their armory.”

“I don’t need anymore,” Gimli said.

“Will I be able to shoot with it on?” Rebecca asked doubtfully.

“We will find something for you,” Aragorn looked her over appraisingly. “Legolas knows what works best for an archer.”

Rebecca still looked concerned.

“After you have it on, we will return and practice again,” Legolas told her. Rebecca gave him a grateful smile.

Gandalf and Gimli left the four of them as they entered the armory. Legolas and the men quickly found long-sleeved, knee length hauberks (chain mail), helms, and vambraces to protect their forearms.

“Thomas, you need to take off your tunic, put the hauberk on over your shirt… then but your tunic back on,” Aragorn said with just a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, no wonder it wasn’t working very well,” Thomas mumbled as he quickly followed Aragorn’s directions. “That’s much better, but it’s heavy,” he commented. Aragorn nodded. “Aragorn, I think this helm makes me look too much like Éomer… except without the horse tail.”

Aragorn laughed, “Maybe a little,” he agreed. “Can you see all right?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, it seems to fit pretty well.”

“Good, now we just need to find things for Rebecca.”

They finally found a waist-length, short-sleeved hauberk for Rebecca to go along with her vambraces and a small helm that covered the sides of her face, but was open in the front. “This will not block your vision,” Legolas said as he handed it to her.

“It’s too heavy, Aragorn,” she complained, as she carefully slipped the hauberk on.

“You are wearing it anyway,” he said firmly.

“I won’t be able to move!” she protested in frustration.

“You will get used to it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Rebecca!” Aragorn said sharply, gazing at her sternly.

“Sorry, Aragorn,” she mumbled, grabbing the vambraces and helm. “I’ll wait outside, Legolas,” she hurried out the door.

Aragorn gazed after her with a look of regret, but he knew she had to wear the armor. It was the only measure of protection he could give her. Once the battle started, she would be on her own. There was no way he or any of the others could ensure her safety. He met Legolas’s understanding eyes for a moment before he resumed adjusting his weapons.

“I will speak with her, [mellon nín,] while we practice,” Legolas said.

“Thank you. Hopefully, you can make her see what I could not.”

Legolas shrugged, “I will make the attempt.”

“Can I come?” Thomas asked.

Aragorn and Legolas exchanged glanced before Aragorn shook his head. “No, I think it would be best if Legolas spoke with her alone. You can speak with her later. However, I need to talk with Éomer, you may come with me,” he said with a straight face.

“No, that’s all right. I’ll find something else to do,” Thomas said quickly.

“As you wish,” Aragorn said with a faint smile as they left the armory.

They found Rebecca leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, staring into the distance.

“Are you ready, Lady Rebecca?” Legolas asked.

She nodded at Legolas and gave Thomas a quick glance before turning to Aragorn with a sigh. “I truly am sorry, Aragorn. I-I know I need to wear this stuff,” she gestured to the helm and hauberk.

“Yes, you do,” he said with a firm nod.

“It’s just…” she bit her lip nervously. “I’m afraid that I-I won’t shoot straight and I really won’t be a help to you and what if I shoot somebody on our side by accident and…”

“Shhh, Rebecca,” Aragorn laid a hand on her shoulder, leaning over and gazing directly into her blue eyes. “What you feel is perfectly normal for someone facing their first real battle. You are well trained and will not shoot someone on our side. I have complete faith in your ability to do this,” Aragorn said intently.

Rebecca searched his face closely, seeing nothing but calm reassurance in his steady grey eyes. She let out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you, Aragorn.”

He nodded, “Go practice with Legolas, but do not overtire yourself,” he reminded her as she followed Legolas down the hill. A look of sorrow crossed Aragorn’s face as he watched her leave, but then his eyes hardened as he went in search of Éomer.

-

Supper was over and Rebecca had finally bathed when she went looking for Thomas. She found him on one of the side porches of Meduseld sitting on a bench as he stared vacantly out over the plains of Rohan in the deepening twilight. She slipped quietly onto the bench beside him, taking his hand and caressing it softly.

Thomas smiled slightly in acknowledgement, but his eyes never left the horizon as he spoke quietly. “Sometimes at night when I close my eyes, all I see is orcs, blood and death and I wonder if this is all some horrible nightmare and if I’ll wake up soon. Then I do wake up and I discover it’s all a wonderful dream because there is a beautiful girl,” he finally turned and looked at Rebecca with a smile that made his eyes sparkle, “that I love deeply. And no matter how bad things get, I hang on to that love like a lifeline.” Rebecca’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she listened. “Rebecca, I don’t know what will happen in the next few days,” he gazed at her longingly as he tenderly brushed strands of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “But, whatever happens, I want you to know that I love you now and I will always love you.”

Rebecca barely had time to whisper, “I know, Thomas, I love you too,” before Thomas pulled her into his arms. He kissed her softly on the lips as he embraced her. His lips moved beyond her mouth as he slowly worked his way up her jaw towards her ear. As he paused briefly, Rebecca eagerly kissed him back until finally Thomas pulled away slightly and clasped her hands.

“We need to stop, Rebecca,” he said quietly.

Rebecca nodded reluctantly, “I suppose so. It’s getting late anyway; we should probably go to bed.”

“You go,” Thomas said with a small smile, “I’m going to stay up for awhile.”

Rebecca arose, giving him a quick kiss before hurrying inside.

Thomas watched her leave with a look of love and concern before turning his gaze back to the now dark plains of Rohan.

0-0-0-0-0

To be continued….

Reviewers: Many thanks to everyone who is reading this story and especially to those who review. I appreciate the encouragement.

Elvish Translations:

Hannon le – I thank thee
Mellon nín – my friend


Chapter 18 - Helm's Deep

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J and Marsha.

Author Note: Words in […] are elvish and are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 18 – Helm’s Deep

It was still an hour before dawn and the courtyard in front of the stables was a swirling mass of men and horses as the Riders of the Riddermark prepared to leave Edoras. Men were yelling, boys were running errands and horses were being saddled and led from their stalls to join the host gathering in a nearby field.

Rebecca stood with Gimli, leaning against the outside wall of the stable, staying well away from the darting hoofs while they waited for Aragorn, Legolas and Thomas to return with their horses.

“I don’t know what’s taking Legolas so long, he doesn’t even have to saddle Arod,” Gimli grumbled.

“Maybe Thomas needs help,” Rebecca laughed.

Gimli snorted with amusement just as Legolas exited the stable followed docilely by Arod. Aragorn followed with Hasufel while Thomas brought up the rear holding tightly to the reins of a restless Baldor. Rebecca glanced quickly at Gimli, trying to repress a smile while he winked and looked away.

Éomer suddenly trotted up on his large bay horse looking them over with a grin. “We ride together this day as companions and not as strangers.” He gazed at Rebecca briefly before fixing his gaze on Gimli. “Master dwarf, when first we met we spoke harsh words to each other and I would not go into battle with words between us. I ask your pardon for speaking ill of the lady of the Golden Wood.”

Gimli bowed slightly, “Of course, Éomer, you spoke thus because you have not seen her. I too would have denied her beauty mere weeks ago.”

“Then will you ride with me this day and tell me of her beauty?”

“It would be an honor, but I insist that Legolas ride alongside us.”

“Of course,” Éomer laughed, “he shall be on my left and Aragorn shall ride on my right.” He sobered quickly as his eyes fell on Thomas. “But,” he hesitated, “I would have Thomas nearby as well,” he said. “I have seen he is, in truth, a man and not the boy I thought when first I saw him. I would ask his pardon as well.”

Thomas nodded slowly. “You have it Éomer… for your words, but not for this horse.” He grimaced as Baldor once again tried to pull away from him. “I wish you had given him to Aragorn or Legolas.” He grinned at Éomer, “I bet you didn’t think I could handle him!”

Éomer laughed as he shook his head, “No, I did not,” he admitted with a sly smile. “Though, you handle him well.” Éomer turned to Rebecca, “Lady Rebecca, where will you be riding?” looking at her questioningly with a wide smile.

“Oh, I ride with Aragorn. He doesn’t trust Baldor enough for me to ride with Thomas,” she smiled shyly back.

“Ah, I thought perhaps you rode with Gandalf.”

“I’ve done that too,” she replied. “I imagine he’ll be busy with your king today.” Rebecca looked across the stable yard to where the two were talking.

“Rebecca,” Aragorn called, “bring me your pack.” She crossed to him, handing him her things so he could attach them to the saddle. “How do you fare?” he asked quietly. “You seem to be moving well in your hauberk,” he noted with a faint smile.

“I’m getting used to it,” she admitted, pulling at the heavy metal sleeve that stuck out from under her tunic. “It doesn’t seem quite so heavy now. And, I’m trying not to think about where we’re going and what we’ll be doing when we get there.”

Aragorn nodded as he finished tying the bedroll in place. “It will be real soon enough; it does you no good to worry about it.”

“Yes, I’ve been learning that worrying doesn’t help,” Rebecca said with a trace of amusement in her voice. He glanced at her questioningly, but she just smiled. “Aragorn,” she said, her voice suddenly serious, “I… if anything happens…” Rebecca looked up at him with a slightly furrowed brow. “I wanted to thank you for all that you’ve done for me since I was, literally, dropped into your life. I-I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” Aragorn smiled faintly as his eyes never left her face. “But I do appreciate your care for me… even if it doesn’t always seem like it.” Her voice dropped off to a whisper as she stared at the ground.

Reaching out and lifting her chin until he could see her eyes, Aragorn regarded her steadily for a moment. “Rebecca, I will admit that finding you on the trail during the middle of the quest to destroy the Ring has added some complications,” he stated dryly. “However, having the chance to get to know you has been a pleasure and I only wish that the circumstances were different.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “We need to mount up, Théoden is ready to leave.”

Aragorn helped her into the saddle, the weight of her armor dragging her down somewhat. “Well, this is comfortable,” she muttered as he settled in behind her.

“Armor is for protection, not comfort,” Aragorn laughed in agreement as he pulled Hasufel alongside Éomer. Rebecca smiled at Thomas on the other side of them.

The Rohirrim set out quickly, headed north across the plains of Rohan, skirting the edges of the White Mountains. It was 120 miles to the Fords of the Isen River and they pushed the horses hard, slowly only occasionally from the steady ground-eating canter to rest them. The men were mostly quiet, though fierce sounding songs would sometimes fill the air as the day wore on. Scouts were sent out in all directions and reported back to the king at regular intervals to keep him informed of any sign of the enemy.

Thomas kept glancing over at Rebecca as he rode, wishing that she was riding with him on this day at least. They had only spoken briefly over a hurried breakfast and he wondered now what she was thinking about. He patted Baldor absently as he turned his eyes forward again, thankful that they were riding with Éomer in the front of the column instead of in the rear in the choking dust. He deliberately kept his mind off of the upcoming battle, his mind instead drifting to thoughts of home for the first time in many days.

As the horses slowed to a walk once again, Gandalf looked back, beckoning Aragorn forward. He complied, looking from the wizard to Théoden questioningly.

“Aragorn, tell me of these Uruk-hai that Gandalf mentioned yesterday. I am sure that Éomer or Théodred told me of them,” Théoden frowned slightly, “but I do not remember.”

“They are large, half again as tall as an orc,” Aragorn said. “They are quicker as well and seem to possess more intelligence than an orc.” He felt Rebecca tremble slightly as he spoke and he patted her knee.

“Do you think Saruman has many of these creatures?”

“I know not. At Amon Hen there were perhaps one for every five orcs, but that was a long way to send them, he may have many more at Isengard.”

“Yet that was an important mission,” Gandalf reminded him. “He would have sent his best.”

Aragorn nodded in agreement, “Probably.”

“He has also stirred up the hillmen of the Dunlands against us,” Théoden said.

“The conflict between those people and yours goes back to the founding of your nation, Théoden King,” Aragorn said. “It would not take much for Saruman to incite them to war against you.”

Rebecca blinked and leaned further back against Aragorn. She had not realized that they were fighting men and she wondered how she could shoot a man. But if they were on the side of Saruman they must be evil, still to shoot a man, she sighed and stared blankly out at the horizon. Yet she knew they would try and kill her, or Thomas, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, or any of the other men, so how could she not try her best to… kill them. Rebecca swallowed hard and sighed deeply as she remembered back to the time she had begged to be allowed to help and she realized that she had had no idea what she was really asking.

“Are you all right, Rebecca?” Aragorn leaned down and whispered in her ear. He had noticed her unconsciously trying to get closer to him and had heard her deep sighs.

She hesitated before half turning in the saddle so she could see his eyes. “I-I didn’t know there would be men there, Aragorn,” she whispered. “But I’ll be all right, I was just surprised.”

“Yes, there will be. Many men are in the service of both Saruman and Sauron.”

Rebecca nodded as she faced forward again.

Aragorn exchanged a brief glance with Gandalf who was gazing at Rebecca with compassion.

The horses were soon kicked back into a canter and the Rohirrim rode on.

-

In the middle of the afternoon they took an hour-long break to rest the horses and the men. Thomas watered and rubbed down Baldor before joining Gimli, Legolas, and Rebecca under a small tree for some food. “Where’s Aragorn?” he asked as he sat next to Rebecca.

“Talking with Théoden and Gandalf,” Gimli pointed.

Thomas squinted in the bright sunlight before nodding, “Isn’t he going to rest and eat?” he asked as he chewed on some dried meat.

Rebecca shrugged, “Aragorn said he’d be back. I’m surprised they are still talking, it seems like they’ve already talked about everything you could think of.”

Legolas smiled, shaking his head, “Kings never get tired of talking and planning, Lady Rebecca.”

Aragorn finally joined them just as they were getting ready to depart. He ate standing, his eyes gazing into the distance as he chewed. When he finished, he called Rebecca over. “I would like you to ride with Legolas.”

“Why?” she looked at him in confusion.

He shrugged slightly before answering, “Because I think it would be better for you not to hear some of the things Gandalf, Théoden and I might be discussing.”

“Oh.” She stared at the ground for a moment. “That might be for the best,” she admitted. “But Aragorn,” she grabbed his arm, “could I ride with Thomas instead of Legolas?” She bit her lip nervously as she waited for his response.

Opening his mouth to say no, Aragorn paused when he saw Rebecca’s pleading eyes. Though he knew she would ride with Legolas if he insisted, Aragorn realized that he was worrying about her riding a nervous horse when he was leading her into a battle where she could be killed. Where either or both of them could be killed he thought with an inward sigh and stab of pain. They both deserved some time together and, if were honest, Thomas did handle the horse well. “Let’s go see if Baldor will behave with you riding him, Rebecca.”

Rebecca’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Aragorn,” she smiled as she led the way to where Thomas was preparing to leave. “Thomas, Aragorn is going to let me ride with you!”

“Really?” Thomas looked at her for a moment and then over her shoulder at Aragorn with an eyebrow raised in question.

“I suggested Legolas, but for some reason she prefers you,” Aragorn said dryly. Thomas smiled. “Take good care of her, Thomas. It is liable to be a long night and we may run into orcs.”

“I will, Aragorn, you know I will.”

Aragorn nodded before turning and walking away. He had only taken a few steps when he stopped and turned back. “Oh, and Thomas? Take good care of yourself as well.”

“I will if you will, my lord,” Thomas grinned.

Shaking his head and biting back a smile, Aragorn headed back to his own horse.

Holding Baldor steady, Thomas watched the horse carefully as Rebecca mounted. She swung aboard easily, even with her armor as Baldor wasn’t as tall as Hasufel. The horse stood stock still once she was seated and Thomas quickly mounted behind her. “He seems to be on his best behavior knowing a beautiful lady is riding,” Thomas breathed into her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Rebecca noticed that the light, almost carefree spirit of the morning had worn off and she was now surrounded by grim, stern-faced warriors and it made her shudder. She didn’t realize that her own face looked almost identical. She took Thomas’s hand that was resting on her knee, intertwining her fingers with his as they set off again at a canter.

The Rohirrim continued their rapid pace as the sun started sinking in the western sky. A smoky haze was settling over the land, turning the sky a fiery red in the rays of the setting sun. Gandalf dropped back to speak with Legolas during one of the periods of walking the horses.

“Legolas what can you see in the distance, towards Isengard?”

Narrowing his eyes and shielding them from the sun, Legolas looked long and hard. “There are shapes moving like a dark stream, but what they are I cannot say, Gandalf.”

Gandalf nodded grimly, “Saruman’s forces no doubt; he is emptying Isengard,” he rejoined Théoden.

A scout came riding swiftly from the north, pulling to an abrupt stop in front of Théoden, bringing the column to a halt.

“Théoden King,” he cried, “the Fords have fallen and our men have scattered across the Westfold. The enemy comes in great numbers. You must flee, my lord.”

“Where is Erkenbrand?” Théoden demanded.

“I know not,” the scout shook his head. “He may have gone back to Helm’s Deep, my lord.”

“Théoden, if the Fords are taken, you must ride hard for Helm’s Deep,” Gandalf spoke up. “Wait there for my return.” He sped off on Shadowfax across the plains of the Westfold, quickly lost in the twilight.

“Where is he going?” Théoden turned to Aragorn in bewilderment.

Aragorn shook his head, “Gandalf has his own purposes and keeps his own counsel, Théoden King. Look not to me to tell you the plans of a wizard. Yet we should heed his advice and make for the stronghold of Helm’s Deep,” he said with urgency.

Théoden nodded, turning to motion Éomer forward. “You heard the scout and Gandalf?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Tell the men of the change. We must ride even more swiftly.”

Éomer whirled his horse around, Gimli hanging on tightly, riding back through the column, yelling out the change in plans.

“Legolas,” Thomas asked, “what is Helm’s Deep?”

“It is one of Rohan’s places of safety in the mountains. A fortress made of stone. I have never seen it, but from what I have heard it is a strong, defendable place.”

Rebecca gripped Thomas’s hand tighter, “Sounds better than fighting out in the open,” she said nervously.

“It depends on the situation, Lady Rebecca.”

Éomer suddenly galloped back to the front of the column and after speaking words to Théoden and Aragorn that Rebecca couldn’t hear, the Rohirrim took off again. They headed almost due west now into the mountains. Dark was upon them quickly as the mountains loomed above them.

Rebecca wondered how they could even tell where they were going as they pressed on into the night. She leaned further back against Thomas with a weary sigh. He responded by bending down and saying, “I love you, Rebecca,” loud enough that she could hear it over the hoofbeats of the horses. She squeezed his hand tightly.

Slowing to walks became even less frequent and in the distance to the north Thomas could see what appeared to be fires scattered here and there across the plains.

“They are burning and plundering the Westfold!” Éomer’s angry voice rang out in the darkness.

“We must reach Helm’s Dike before they cut us off,” Théoden called back.

They rode on.

-

The Rohirrim reached the mile-long protective dike that fronted the Deep sometime before midnight. Théoden and Aragorn brought the column to a stop as Éomer pressed forward to listen.

“What news, Gamling?” Théoden demanded. “Is Erkenbrand here?”

“No, Théoden King, he has not yet returned from the Ford.”

“Have you seen Gandalf?” Aragorn asked.

“No, my lord.”

“How many men do you have here,” Éomer asked.

“Perhaps a thousand, my lord, but many of us are old or too young and many are farmers that are escaping from the burning of the Westfold. There are also women and children in the caves back in the Deep.”

“Have you supplies enough?” Théoden asked sharply.

“Yes, my lord. Erkenbrand has been stocking supplies and repairing the walls against such a time.”

“Good, we shall have need of it I fear.”

“Come, Théoden, let’s get the men in and our defenses set,” Aragorn urged.

They rode on the last six hundred yards up to the causeway, leaving Gamling and his men to defend the Dike. The causeway led up to the Hornburg, crossing the small stream that flowed down from the mountains and through the Deep. Thomas hopped down, reaching up and helping Rebecca down as well. They clung to each other briefly before leading Baldor up the causeway following Legolas and Arod. Inside the Hornburg, their horses were taken and stabled with the king’s horse and others of his guard. The rest of the horses were taken back up into the furthest areas of the Deep past the caves.

Rebecca tried to stay out of the way of the men running here and there about the courtyard in front of the Keep. Thomas was talking with Legolas and Gimli nearby and she watched as Thomas gave Legolas his quiver of arrows and she suddenly remembered her own bow. She reached for it with trembling hands intending to string it when a firm, yet gentle hand clasped her wrist.

“Not yet, Lady Rebecca,” Legolas said, surprising her with his sudden appearance.

“Shouldn’t I be getting ready to shoot, Legolas?”

“There is time yet, let your hands and body rest for awhile. It has been a long day.”

Nodding, Rebecca glanced at Thomas briefly as he approached with Gimli.

“Aragorn looks every bit a king, doesn’t he?” Thomas remarked as he watched Aragorn and Éomer directing the men to their places out along the Deeping Wall or on the walls of the Hornburg above them.

“Aye, lad he does,” Gimli grunted in agreement as he leaned on his axe.

“Legolas, Gimli, Thomas,” Aragorn suddenly barked at them, “I want you out on the Deeping Wall. Just on the other side of the culvert. I’ll try and join you later.” He turned to answer a question from one of the men.

“I-I guess I stay here then,” Rebecca said, looking at each of them in turn.

“It appears so,” Legolas replied. “May Elbereth watch over you this night, Lady Rebecca,” he smiled gently before walking swiftly away.

“Aye, lass, take care,” Gimli nodded as he followed Legolas.

“You-you too,” she called after them.

Thomas stared at her for a moment before he pulled off his helm and kissed her hard. He backed away without saying a word before turning and running to catch up with the others.

Rebecca touched her hand to her lips as she watched him leave.

“Rebecca,” Aragorn’s commanding voice startled her.

“Yes, sir?” she asked, her fear causing her to slip unconsciously back to the words she had spoken all her life.

Aragorn paused, but then hurriedly continued, “I want you up there,” he pointed to a spot up on the wall of the Hornburg above them that overlooked the causeway on one side and the courtyard the led into the Keep on the other. Rebecca nodded. “When your arrows and these,” he thrust another quiver into her hands, “are spent, I want you off the wall and into the Keep. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” she looked at him steadily, though Aragorn could see she was trembling.

“Good, may the Valar protect you, Rebecca,” he said fervently, clasping her hand briefly. And then he was gone.

“You too,” she whispered

-

Thomas stared out into the black night from his place on the side stone wall next to Legolas. He could see scattered moving torches in the distance as the uruks, orcs and hillmen approached.

“I wish we had some of my kinfolk here. Their axes would cleave off a head or two,” Gimli growled as he restlessly paced.

‘I would rather see a hundred elven archers, master dwarf,” Legolas replied as he checked his bowstring one more time. “Though, dwarfs would do well in this cold, stone fortress.”

“Some marines with rifles would be handy right about now,” Thomas muttered under his breath.

Legolas looked at him questioningly, but Thomas just shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.” He sat, leaning wearily back against the parapet wondering how Rebecca was doing and wished more than anything that the battle would start. The endless waiting was driving him crazy.

-

Rebecca walked up the steps to the place Aragorn had pointed out, scanning the area around her. There were few men along this section of the wall, though more were quickly filling in the gaps. She found a spot she could shoot over and set down the quiver Aragorn had given her before grabbing and stringing her bow. Checking the bowstring for defects, she looked it over with a practiced eye before deciding it was sound. Turning her attention to the new arrows, she looked them over closely noticing some minor differences in the fletching, but otherwise they appeared serviceable. She decided to leave the quiver at her feet until her own arrows were gone.

Watching the men around her, Rebecca wondered how many of them had fought before and if they were as scared as she was. Remembering back to the time they had fought with the wargs and Aragorn telling her that even he got scared, she decided that all of these men must be as well, no matter how well they hid it. The men were talking quietly as they waited, though Rebecca could not understand what they said as they were speaking in rohirric. She felt so alone. She kept her thoughts off of Thomas and her friends, except for brief prayers asking for their protection. Her thoughts turned to her mom and home for some reason.

Shaking her head, Rebecca tried to focus back on the present. She tried to remember all the things Haldir had taught her, that she could only control the things that she did, not what else happened. She closed her eyes and ran through her list again. Her eyes popped open when someone jostled her. She looked up at a tall man who said something that sounded like an apology. Shrugging, she replied, “I don’t speak your language.”

“You’re a woman!” he said in surprise and in the common tongue. Several men looked around curiously at his words.

“Yes,” she responded warily, glancing around at the men.

“Why are you not in the caves?” he asked, staring at her in disbelief.

Rebecca stared back unflinchingly, “Because I can use this very well,” she replied, holding up her bow.

The man looked her up and down, slowly shaking his head and muttering in rohirric. “Well, I guess we can use all the help we can get against those foul beasts. My name is Renward and that’s Lyfgast,” he pointed to the man standing on Rebecca’s left.

“I’m Rebecca,” she said with a slight bow to each man.

“It’s always good to know who you’re fighting alongside,” Lyfgast said with a grim smile.

Rebecca nodded.

“Who taught you to shoot?” Renward asked idly, as he leaned against the parapet staring into the darkness.

“An elf named Haldir.”

Both men turned back to her sharply at that. “An elf?” Lyfgast exclaimed.

“Yes,” Rebecca looked back and forth between the men in confusion wondering at their response.

“How do you know elves?” Renward asked.

Rebecca thought furiously, trying to figure out if she should say something about Rivendell, ‘her home’. “Well, I’m here with an elf, aren’t I?” The men looked at her blankly and she realized that not all of the men knew of Legolas. “Do you know of Lord Aragorn?” They shook their heads and she wondered how they couldn’t know about him. “Didn’t you ride with us from Edoras?” she asked, puzzled.

“No,” Renward responded, pointing into the darkness. “My home is in the Westfold. I’m sure it’s burned to the ground,” he said bitterly.

“I’m sorry. Is your home there too?” Rebecca asked, glancing at Lyfgast.

He nodded, his jaw clenching in anger. “At least my family is safe,” he whispered. “I have a wife and three children up in the caves,” he smiled briefly at Rebecca.

“Renward, do you have a family too?”

“A wife and a son; my mother also lives with us.”

“What about you, Lady Rebecca?” Lyfgast asked.

“My parents are dead.” Both men stared at her pityingly. “I’m the ward of Lord Aragorn,” she turned to look for him. “There he is with Lord Éomer and King Théoden,” she pointed to him standing below in the courtyard. Aragorn was gesturing out to the Deeping Wall while Théoden was nodding.

“Who is he?” Renward asked, “I mean, who is he that the king listens to him.”

Rebecca hesitated and then shrugged. “He’s the heir to the throne of Gondor.” She watched Aragorn for another minute, and then turned back, looking out into the darkness with a sigh.

“Heir to the throne of Gondor,” Lyfgast muttered, leaning on the wall next to her.

Renward braced his hands against the wall on Rebecca’s right, saying nothing. -

“We have three quarters of the men along the Deeping Wall, my lord,” Éomer said to Théoden. “The rest are here in the Hornburg.”

“When the men pull back from the Dike, we will put most of them out along the wall,” Aragorn continued. “The wall appears to be the most vulnerable,” he gestured to it.

Théoden nodded, “It is, though we are fortunate that Erkenbrand had kept it in good repair. I will remain here in the Hornburg. Éomer, I want you on the wall. Aragorn, where will you be?”

“I will be on the wall with Éomer, my lord.”

“Good,” Théoden gazed around the Hornburg and out to the Deeping Wall. “We must not fail,” he said, locking eyes with first Éomer and then Aragorn.

“We will not, Théoden King,” Éomer stated, a fierce gleam in his eye.

“Your people are strong, Théoden. They will not let you down.” Aragorn bowed slightly to the king before striding swiftly off toward the Deeping Wall.

“I’ll join you in a minute, Aragorn,” Éomer called after him.

Aragorn jogged lightly down the steps that joined the Hornburg to the Deeping Wall scanning the placement of the men and the area behind the wall as he went. He frowned slightly as he saw the stream that moved through the Deep and the culvert that ran under the wall, though he knew it was well protected. He continued along the wall, moving a few men and encouraging the young ones, until he reached Legolas. He paused, giving the elf a look that showed his friend his true weariness and concern before his confident, kingly mask slipped back into place.

Legolas met his gaze steadily as he spoke, “You have done all that you can do [mellon nín.] It is out of your hands now,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Aragorn admitted, “and yet it seems I should do more.”

“Like what?”

Aragorn shrugged, “If I knew that, I would do it, [mellon nín],” he said with a wry smile before continuing down the wall, encouraging the men and boys along the way.

-

Screams and shouts suddenly broke into the heavy brooding silence that had settled over the fortress. The sounds of fierce fighting could be heard by those sitting and standing along the walls.

“They have reached the Dike,” Lyfgast murmured.

Rebecca grabbed an arrow, nocking it swiftly in readiness. She bit her lip nervously as she tried to see, wondering how she could shoot anything in the darkness. She glanced up to see that clouds now covered the moon and what light there was came from burning torches scattered around the Hornburg. The men around her were also preparing their bows and she noticed absently that none of them were as fine as hers.

The sounds of the battle were drawing closer. Rebecca could hear the screams of terror and pain, some of which stopped abruptly. There were battle cries in what she recognized as rohirric and in some other language that she assumed came from the hillmen. But over it all were the growls and roars of the uruks and orcs. She took a deep breath and gripped her bow tightly, her eyes widening in fear.

“Our men have reached the causeway!” Rebecca heard someone down the wall yell. Soon men were pouring in through the gate beneath her and she watched as Éomer directed them to either the Deeping Wall or up on the walls of the Hornburg. The wounded were helped into the Keep.

“Shut the gates!” The huge wooden gates were slowly closed and Rebecca could now dimly see the shadowy mass of man-shaped figures in the fields beyond the stream and causeway as she crouched down peering over the wall. She guessed the distance to be eighty to ninety yards, too far for her to accurately shoot.

-

Thomas watched the enemy approach with narrowed eyes. He heard the screams of the wounded and dying and thought briefly of Boromir. He drummed his fingers nervously against the edge of the parapet as he squatted down waiting for something to happen now that the men had retreated within the fortress. He glanced down at the sword he held, hoping it would hold its edge during the night.

Shaking his head in disbelief, Thomas listened as Gimli and Legolas jested about the number of kills they would make during the battle. He didn’t know how they could be so casual about killing and facing death, though he supposed it came with long experience. He sighed, glancing up when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You will do well, [mellon nín,”] Legolas said. “You are well trained and experienced.”

“I just wish it would start,” Thomas said in frustration. “The waiting is…”

Suddenly, arrows filled the air around them. Most of them passed over the wall and fell harmlessly into the Deep, but Thomas could hear the screams of the men who had been hit. He flinched at the sound. He looked to Legolas to see if he was firing back, but he was evidently waiting for some signal.

The arrows kept coming, but still none were returned from the fortress. A loud voice from down near the Hornburg rang out and the twang of hundreds of bowstrings filled the air as arrows were finally released. Now cries and screams of pain and rage came from the enemy as they had nowhere to hide. They rushed forward in their anger, heedless of the danger they faced from the Rohirrim on the walls. The exchange of arrows continued furiously and while Saruman lost a greater number of his force, the loss for Rohan was dearer as they had fewer men to spare.

Thomas waited impatiently with Gimli for the ladders they knew were coming that would bring the battle to them.

-

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, Rebecca watched as the enemy moved closer. Lyfgast and Renward had been firing, but she hadn’t shot yet as the distance was still too great and she didn’t want to waste a single arrow. It was so hard to block out the screams of the wounded and the sounds of the uruks and orcs and she grimly remembered the warnings that Haldir had given her. As they moved within range, Rebecca raised her bow quickly and loosed her first arrow, cursing under her breath when it fell well short and far left of where she was aiming. She grabbed another arrow, slowing down to focus on what she was doing before she released it. This one flew true, hitting something – man or orc, she couldn’t tell – dropping it to the ground. Paling at the sight of what she had done, she slowly took out another arrow and repeated the process. Rebecca shook her head to clear it as another being fell and then pushed her feelings to the back of her mind and let her training take over.

Rebecca knew she missed with some of her arrows, but as the enemy drew closer to the wall, it became easier to hit them. As she bent down to grab the quiver Aragorn had given her, she heard the whistle of arrows close overhead. A strangled, gurgling noise caught her attention and she looked up to see Renward clutching at an arrow that had pierced his throat.

“Renward!” she screamed, trying to grab him as he fell over, but his weight knocked her down and he landed sprawled across her, his hands still pulling futilely at the arrow. He choked, spewing blood on Rebecca’s tunic. Rebecca looked at it in horror, pushing herself out from underneath Renward as he died. She sat there, panting hard and staring at him for a moment before she tried to wipe his blood off her tunic, but it just smeared, staining her hands. Rebecca looked at her hands, back at Renward and felt nauseas. She quickly crawled to the edge of the wall overlooking the courtyard and got sick. She lay there for a moment listening to the screams while she gathered her courage. Pushing herself to her knees, she wiped her hands off as best she could on her leggings, trying not to think about the fact that it was blood she was wiping off.

Glancing around, her eyes grief-stricken, yet determined, Rebecca spotted her bow and she grabbed it before creeping back to the wall. She crouched down, peering over the edge and saw the enemy advancing up the causeway with a battering ram. She readied an arrow and then stood quickly and shot before ducking down again.

-

“Ladders!”

“Good,” Gimli growled to Thomas, “I need to catch up with the elf.”

Thomas just nodded, tightening his grip on his sword.

All along the Deeping Wall, ladders were being shoved against it, and orcs began to swarm up them. Some of the ladders were heaved back down, but many of their foes reached the top and fierce hand-to-hand fighting broke out atop the wall.

Gimli took the first orc off the ladder nearest them and Thomas the second. Finally able to do something, Thomas eagerly thrust his sword into the black belly of the creature before him. Pulling it out, he locked blades with another orc before sliding his sword up and away, neatly slitting its throat. Thomas moved sideways as he felt something behind him and he turned in time to block a sword aimed at his head by one of the larger uruks that were now streaming up the ladders. It roared at him menacingly, but Thomas just watched it warily as he looked for an opening. The creature lunged to his right and Thomas easily deflected it, slicing the uruk across the sword arm before moving back out of range. The uruk stomped forward and Thomas saw the opening he was looking for as he took advantage of the wounded animal. He moved to its right, quickly knocking the sword from its wounded arm and then plunging his blade into the creature’s heart. It collapsed in a heap as Thomas turned to face his next foe.

Thomas soon found himself standing back to back with one of the Rohirrim and fighting became easier for a time. He saw and heard Legolas and Gimli occasionally and was relieved to know they were alive, but he had little time to spare for thoughts of others. All of his energy was being spent to save himself. Everything around him was becoming a blur of black and red, mixed with the screams and howls of the wounded, the dying and those trying to intimidate the men of Rohan.

Thomas fought on. -

Aragorn and Éomer fought side by side near the steps that joined the Deeping Wall to the Hornburg. Aragorn was graceful and measured as he fought, never wasting any energy as he killed anything that he faced. Andúril glistened in the light rain that had begun to fall as he danced along the top of the wall.

Éomer fought with reckless abandon, yelling at the foes he encountered. His sword never stopped moving as he darted from orc to hillman to uruk as the night progressed.

“Éomer!” Aragorn yelled, “They are coming up the causeway!”

Éomer slit the throat of the orc he was fighting before glancing over the wall. “They have a battering ram.”

“They cannot take the Hornburg,” Aragorn kicked the body of the uruk he had just killed off the wall and into the Deep.

“No,” Éomer grinned fiercely, “let’s go stop them.”

Aragorn nodded and the two of them rushed up the steps, grabbing a few other men on the way. They pushed open the small postern door on the side of the Hornburg and snuck around on the rocks until they were overlooking the causeway. Crouching down, they watched the uruks approach.

“There are a lot of them,” Aragorn observed.

“Uh huh.”

Aragorn glanced over the edge down to the stream below. “If we can get the battering ram away and over the edge, I do not think they can recover it.”

Éomer shrugged, “They may have another, but I see no other options.”

“Ready?”

Éomer nodded and they sprang off the rock and onto the causeway. Aragorn immediately rushed the uruks at the front, while Éomer and his men split, attacking both sides. The uruks fell to the ground, dead, dropping the front of the battering ram and causing those in the back to stumble. Aragorn, Éomer and the men pushed forward, swords swinging to bring down the rest of the uruks carrying the large tree trunk.

Surging past the battering ram, Aragorn and Éomer held off the stream of uruks and orcs running up the causeway while the other men struggled to roll the log over the edge.

“Éomer!” one of them yelled, “It’s done, pull back, my lord!” The men rushed back up the rock and around towards the door.

Aragorn and Éomer started slowly falling back a step at a time, slaying any of the orcs who were foolish enough to get within reach of their blades. Éomer suddenly stumbled as a not quite dead uruk grabbed his leg and tried to pull him down. Taking his eyes off the advancing orcs, Aragorn quickly stabbed the uruk through the heart while grabbing Éomer by the collar and jerking him to his feet.

Uruks leapt towards Aragorn and Éomer, taking full advantage of their distraction. They pressed them furiously until even Aragorn started to feel overwhelmed by the sheer numbers as the causeway widened near the gate and more uruks were able to attack them at one time. Arrows suddenly started raining down from the wall above. The arrows struck and killed the uruks closest to them, giving them just enough space and time to scramble back up and around the rock and through the small postern door. As they slammed it shut behind them, they leaned against it for a moment, panting.

“Where… did… those arrows come from? I thought all were spent long ago.” Éomer asked in a puzzled tone.

Aragorn looked up on the wall already knowing who he would see. “Rebecca,” he said, nodding towards her.

Stunned, Éomer looked up to see Rebecca peering over the wall with her bow nocked and ready to fire. He shook his head slowly before grabbing Aragorn’s arm. “We need to get back down to the wall.”

-

The next time Rebecca looked over the wall she was shocked to see men fighting the uruks on the causeway and she wondered where they had come from. The men around her had used all their arrows and were now crouched down with swords drawn waiting to see if ladders would be able to reach the much higher walls of the Hornburg; or if the gate would be breached. All along the wall, Rebecca and the men watched as the battle for the battering ram took place. As the man below tripped, Lyfgast exclaimed, “That’s Lord Éomer!”

Rebecca stared down at the men intently, “Aragorn,” she breathed as the uruks started to overwhelm them. Without a second thought she jumped to her feet, drawing back, aiming and releasing the arrow she already had nocked. She continued firing, her whole focus on the uruks around Aragorn and Éomer until they made their escape. Rebecca ducked down again, resting her head on the parapet with a deep sigh.

“Well shot,” Lyfgast murmured, patting her on the back.

She nodded weakly before grabbing the last arrow in her quiver and looking over the wall. After this one arrow she would be free to leave and return to the Keep. Rebecca aimed and released her arrow, watching as one of the hillmen fell over. She slumped to the ground trembling, knowing that this time she had for sure killed a man. She took a deep breath to calm herself and she looked up, letting the rain, which had steadily increased, wash over her face for a moment. Finally she arose and made her way shakily down the stairs and into the Keep.

-

Thomas stood fighting alone, the man of Rohan having fallen some time ago. He had no idea where Gimli or Legolas were, it seemed like it had been hours since he had seen either of them. All he could do was face each orc or uruk that he came across as he fought desperately to stay alive. That’s all he thought about now – killing whatever creature appeared around him and staying alive.

“Orcs! Orcs are in the Deep!” A loud cry was heard over the noise of the battle distracting Thomas for a second. The orc he was facing reached out and slashed Thomas across the face. Only Thomas’s helm and his quick reflexes, which jerked his head back at the last moment, saved his life. He received a long gash that stretched from his left ear to near his chin and a broken helm. He staggered back from the force of the blow, almost falling and dropping his sword. He shook his head to try and clear the dizziness that suddenly enveloped him, but pain instantly shot through his head and he stopped.

Thomas squinted, trying to keep an eye on the orc as he desperately tried to recover his bearings. The orc charged him and he managed to bring up his sword in time to deflect the blow, though the force cause him to stumble and fall. Thomas watched in terror as the orc raised his blade to kill him, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it. As the sword started to descend, the orc suddenly stiffened and fell to the side gasping for breath. Stunned by his sudden reprieve, Thomas saw one of the Rohirrim pulling his sword from the creature’s back before he turned to face another orc.

Getting unsteadily to his feet, both because of his pain and his shock, Thomas moved to help the man as he was beset by another orc. Horrified, he watched as the man was cut down before he could reach him. Frustrated and angry, he attacked the orc from behind and quickly killed it.

Pulling off the broken helm and tossing it aside, Thomas looked warily around for more of the enemy while he tried to take in the fact that he was not dead, but he should be. That a total stranger had saved his life, then had fallen to his own death not a minute later.

“Come on, Thomas.” Gimli came out of nowhere and grabbed his arm. The dwarf ran down the steps into the Deep, joining the others who were fighting the orcs and hillmen that had snuck in through the culvert. Thomas followed him cautiously as the dizziness and pain threatened to overcome him. He was determined, however, not to give in to the pain and he joined the others in attacking the enemy who had infiltrated the Deep. The rain had stopped, the clouds moving off and the moon now shone over the battlefield. Thomas fought fiercely and while surprised when he faced his first hillman, he attacked as he had been taught, finding that the man had no more training or skill than the orcs. He quickly knocked the crude sword from the man’s hand before killing him and moving on without a second glance.

Slowly and steadily they pushed the orcs and hillmen back through the culvert. Before returning to the wall, they pushed large stones in front of the culvert to keep out any more of the enemy and stationed guards there. Thomas finally took a moment to try and wipe away the blood from his painful, throbbing gash, but it kept seeping slowly from the wound and he had no means to stop it.

-

“You’re still alive,” Éomer commented as he joined Aragorn resting on the steps leading down into the Deep during a lull in the battle.

“I appear to be,” Aragorn replied, glancing up as he continued to sharpen his sword.

“They are planning something, Aragorn, I can feel it.” Éomer removed his helm, wiping the sweat from his face with his shoulder before putting it back on.

“Yet dawn is near and hope comes with it,” Aragorn looked to the east, though no sign could yet be seen of the sun.

“Uruks and the hillmen will not be stopped by the sun,” Éomer pointed out.

Aragorn looked at Éomer intently before replying, “Still I will look for hope with the sunrise.”

Legolas quietly walked up and crouched down beside them, “Truly your father named you well, Estel,” he commented.

“Have you seen Gimli or Thomas?” Aragorn asked, while absentmindedly flexing his battered fingers and wrists.

“They are coming up now,” Legolas nodded down the steps. Aragorn looked to see the two of them slowly trudging towards them.

Gimli stopped a couple of steps below Aragorn, placing one foot on the step above as he leaned heavily on his axe. Thomas sat down on the step below the dwarf, staring back down into the Deep before dropping his head into his hand with a weary sigh.

As Legolas and Gimli started bantering back and forth about their kills, Aragorn went to check on Thomas who had lost his helm and appeared to have a gash on his face, though it was hard to tell with all the blood that covered him.

“Are you hurt, Thomas?” Aragorn asked as he bent over trying to get a look at his face.

“Yes, sir, I am.” Thomas didn’t look up, though he shivered slightly.

Aragorn crouched down carefully on the step. “Let me see,” he tilted Thomas’s chin, stopping instantly when he hissed in pain as Aragorn touched the open wound. “Forgive me,” he murmured before turning Thomas’s head carefully to inspect it. “It is still bleeding.” Aragorn tore off a piece of his tunic and gently wiped away the blood, pressing on it lightly to stop the flow. “It is a good thing you were wearing a helm, Thomas.”

“I know, sir” Thomas’s eyes glistened with unshed tears and he lowered his head to avoid Aragorn’s steady gaze.

“You are doing well, Thomas Morgan, you are still alive,” Aragorn said quietly. He laid his hand briefly on the uninjured side of Thomas’s head.

Thomas just nodded once in acknowledgement and Aragorn returned to join Éomer at the top of the wall.

-

Entering the great entrance hall of the Keep, Rebecca paused briefly, relieved to be away from the chaos of the battle. She started as she realized that some of the screams and moans she could hear came from inside the Keep. Looking around she saw bodies through an open doorway to her left and she hesitantly moved in that direction. The floor in the room was littered with men and the assault on her senses was overwhelming. The moans, screams, sight and smell of blood, and just seeing the sheer agony of the wounded and dying all confined in this small space was something too terrible to comprehend. Rebecca stopped in the doorway, trying to absorb it all.

“Get out of the way,” someone growled as he none too gently elbowed her aside and carried in a wounded man and gently laid him on the floor before rushing back out.

Rebecca finally noticed there was a man at the far end of the room working on the injured men and she gingerly stepped over the bodies and made her way to him.

The man asked her something in a harsh voice, not looking up from where he was applying a bandage.

“I don’t understand you, my lord,” she replied.

The man sat up, looking her over carefully. “You are the girl who rides with Gandalf and Lord Aragorn.”

Rebecca nodded.

“You have been fighting.”

“Yes, my lord,” she shuddered slightly as she looked down at her clothes covered with Renward’s blood. “But I’m out of arrows and Aragorn told me to come into the Keep.”

“Good, I need help.”

“I can see that. Why are there no more healers?”

“They are all on the walls. Surviving is the important thing. I am Théoden King’s personal healer and Lord Éomer allowed me stay and do what I can for the injured. I can use you to fetch things and maybe I can show you some basics skills.” He sighed as he looked around at the number of wounded.

“I-I have training as a healer.”

He looked at her in shock before saying dubiously, “You are young.”

Rebecca nodded in agreement, “I am, but the elves trained me anyway, sensing I had a gift.” She shrugged. “It was only the most basic of trainings and I have not used it much.”

“Still, it will be useful. My name is Sigebréoht.”

“Rebecca. I have healing supplies with my pack in our room.”

“Get it,” he ordered tersely, turning back to the injured man.

Hurrying from the room, Rebecca quickly ran to where their packs had been stored, grabbing her healing kit and returning to Sigebréoht. As she ran she realized that she didn’t even notice the weight of the armor anymore.

“Where do I start?”

Sigebréoht quickly looked through her kit and then set it aside. “We will save this for later when we have more time. For now all we can do is try and stop the bleeding.” He paused and gazed at her intently, searching her face. “Rebecca, many, if not most, of these men will die. We have to make decisions on who we think has a chance to live… and who will not.”

Rebecca’s sunken, dark-circled eyes widened and she glanced around the room at all the men. “How do I… how can you tell if…”

“You will learn,” Sigebréoht said shortly. “Come.” He moved to the next man who was writhing in pain from deep gashes to both arms and another across his chest. Blood seeped steadily from all three wounds. Sigebréoht briefly examined the man’s arms before checking the chest. He glanced up at Rebecca and shook his head.

“Why?” she whispered, gazing down at the wounded man. “It doesn’t look that bad.”

Sigebréoht motioned her closer. “Look, the blade struck too deep.” He pulled back the shirt and Rebecca could clearly see the damage to the chest. She drew in a sharp breath and nodded in understanding. Sigebréoht moved on to the next man, indicating that Rebecca should examine him and make the decision.

Swallowing hard, she checked the wounds on his legs, thinking back to things Lord Thalion had told her about leg wounds. She noted that though the wounds were still bleeding, neither was life-threatening. However, the man was unconscious, so she carefully removed his helm to check his head. Rebecca found a large knot on the side of his head, but there were no signs of blood. “He will live, my lord, if we can stop the bleeding.” Nodding his approval, Sigebréoht handed her a stack of bandaging material.

“Do we clean it first?”

“There is no time. Tie on a bandage to stop the bleeding and move to the next man.”

Rebecca swiftly and efficiently applied the bandages as Lord Thalion had taught her. She glanced up to meet Sigebréoht’s approving eyes.

“You will do, Rebecca. Start over there.”

Nodding, Rebecca slowly got to her feet, wondering how she could make such life and death decisions. If she made a mistake then men would die and she would be responsible for it. She finally realized that if she didn’t help they would die anyway and she would just have to do the best she could and rely on the training she had received. Sighing deeply and wearily, she crouched down next to her first patient.

-

A huge explosion rocked the Deeping Wall, tearing open a huge gap near the culvert. Thomas and Gimli tumbled down the steps, landing in a heap at the bottom. Holding his head, Thomas got unsteadily to his feet pulling Gimli up with him. Men that had been thrown from the wall lay moaning around them. Éomer came charging down the far steps leading a large group of men to fight the orcs pouring through the breach in the wall.

Gimli and Thomas joined Éomer, fighting fiercely with axe and sword. Ignoring his pain, Thomas fought without restraint, trying to avenge the man who had saved his life. His eyes were dark and angry as he faced the enemy.

The Rohirrim were heavily outnumbered and were slowly being pushed further back into the Deep near the caves. The men fought harder as they were pressed closer and closer to their families. Going backwards up a rock-strewn hill was difficult at best, and some men were lost just from tripping over the ground and not getting back to their feet in time to avoid the orcs.

“21!” Gimli shouted.

“You are still counting?” Éomer asked incredulously.

“Of course, no elf prince is going to beat me! 22!” Gimli growled, swinging his axe at another orc.

Éomer laughed, while Thomas just shook his head slightly, grimly killing another of the hillmen.

-

Legolas pulled Aragorn through the door into the Hornburg following the last of the surviving men from the Deeping Wall. The gate slammed shut behind them, keeping out the enraged uruks and orcs who had almost overtaken them.

“That was close, [mellon nín,”] Aragorn commented as they strode swiftly across the courtyard to Théoden.

Legolas nodded before saying, “Dawn approaches.”

Aragorn glanced up swiftly, his eyes finding the faintest tint of pink on the mountains to the east. “So it does,” he murmured.

“Where is Éomer?” Théoden demanded as they approached.

“I know not, my lord. I last saw him leading men into the Deep after the explosion, trying to hold back the enemy,” Aragorn answered.

“They were being pushed back up towards the caves. He was still alive a short time ago,” Legolas continued. “Gimli and Thomas were with him,” he added, glancing at Aragorn, who nodded slightly.

Théoden sighed deeply as he ran his hand across his face. “I have failed my people,” he said, despair evident in both his voice and face.

“This battle is not over, Théoden King. We are not defeated.” Aragorn glanced up at the walls were men were preparing for the next attack. “Your men are still fighting for Rohan… for you.” He fixed his gaze intently on the king.

“Ladders!” someone screamed.

“They come again,” Théoden muttered. “Will you ride out with me before the end, Lord Aragorn?”

“We shall ride out with the coming of the dawn.” Aragorn turned and hurried to the wall, taking the steps two at a time, Legolas on his heels.

Aragorn and Legolas waded into the battles taking place along the wall, trying desperately to keep the Hornburg from being overrun. Aragorn moved up and down the length of the wall, fighting in places where the battle was fiercest at the moment and then moving on, encouraging the men as he passed.

Time after time the uruks and hillmen scaled the high wall and again and again the Rohirrim threw them back. A heavy toll was starting to be taken as more and more of the Rohirrim fell to injury and death. Looking over the wall, Aragorn saw the approaching battering ram and he frowned slightly. Glancing to the east he saw the sun would be up in less than a half hour and his heart was lightened. Calling to Legolas, he ran back down to prepare their horses to ride out.

-

Rebecca had long since lost count of the number of men she had tended during the endless night. She just crawled from one injured man to the next, quickly making a decision and then either bandaging wounds or moving on. At first, it had been so difficult to leave men to die, but now she just moved on without thought or feeling. She was too exhausted to feel. Her world had been reduced to trying to save those that she could; trying desperately to reach them in time.

“What was that?” Rebecca looked up at the sound of an explosion, glancing over at Sigebréoht.

He shook his head, “Some weapon of Saruman’s,” he said with a frown. “We will be seeing more wounded men,” he paused briefly. “Though I suppose it will depend on where the explosion took place,” he turned back to the man he was bandaging.

Nodding, Rebecca did the same, knowing there was nothing she could do out there, but these men here needed her help. Realizing how thirsty she was, she wondered how long it had been since she had had a drink and where she had put her waterskin. She yawned, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes as she moved to the next man.

The next sound of which Rebecca was aware was the sounds of heavy, booted feet running and hoofbeats of horses in the hall. She looked to Sigebréoht who was across from the door. “It appears some of the men are riding out,” he said, giving her a small, sad smile.

Rebecca looked down for a moment, wondering where Thomas, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were, if they were even still alive. It seemed impossible to believe that all of them could still be alive. She had seen too much death this night to have any such hope. Looking back at Sigebréoht, she asked, “Have we lost?”

Sigebréoht shrugged, “I know not, Lady Rebecca.” He glanced back out the door, “Though we may get some more help now,” he commented as he returned to his work. Rebecca followed suit.

Not many minutes later a handful of men came in and after talking briefly with Sigebréoht, set to work on the injured. Crossing to Rebecca, Sigebréoht crouched down beside her, handing her the healing kit. “We have enough help now that we can slow down and take proper care of the wounds. There is water…”

“I’m so thirsty,” she interrupted.

He peered at her closely, “Do you not carry a waterskin? When did you last drink?”

“I think maybe it’s with my pack, but I’m not sure and I don’t know when I last drank anything. Maybe this afternoon sometime,” she said tiredly, scrubbing at her eyes.

Sighing, Sigebréoht handed Rebecca his waterskin, “Drink all of this; I do not want to add you to those I need to care for. After you drink, clean the wounds and stitch them.” He patted her shoulder and slowly walked away, muttering in rohirric.

Rebecca closed her eyes as she drained the last of the water. She started as she almost fell over and she realized she had nearly fallen asleep. Quickly looking around to see if Sigebréoht had noticed, she was relieved to see he was looking the other way. Rebecca was embarrassed that she could have fallen asleep when all of these men still needed her help. She pushed herself to her feet and carefully walked to the water barrel, trying not to stumble. Drawing a small bucket and returning to the injured men, she went back to work.

Concentrating on stitching the injured man’s shoulder, Rebecca ignored the man who silently crouched beside her. As she finished the last stitch and cut the thread with her small knife, he said quietly,

“Good morning, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca sat back on her heels and gazed at Legolas, looking him over carefully. “You’re alive at least,” she said. She reached out to touch his cheek to make sure he was real and not just a trick of her tired mind, but pulled it back when she saw how it was stained with blood.

Legolas clasped her hand gently. “I am really here and Aragorn is in the other room.”

“Thomas? Gimli?”

“There were fighting further up in the Deep.”

She nodded, bowing her head for a moment. “Are-are we going to die, Legolas?” Rebecca looked at him questioningly from dark-rimmed, exhausted eyes.

“I know not,” he admitted, rubbing her hand soothingly. “Dawn is near and Aragorn intends to ride out with the king and his men.”

“And you are going,” she stated, staring at him.

“Yes. Aragorn and I wanted to know if you made it off the wall safely before we rode out. I came as I do not need to saddle Arod.”

“Oh, sure, I’m safe here, Legolas. I need to get back to work now,” Rebecca whispered. She pulled her hand away, rubbing her eyes briefly. “Good luck.” She started to turn away.

Legolas grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him. “Do not give up, Rebecca,” he admonished her gently. “I know you are weary and things look grim, but you must cling to hope. Do not give in to despair at this late hour. Aragorn senses something, though I know not what. I trust him and his gift of foresight.”

Rebecca stared past him, unsettled by the intensity of his gaze. Finally, she met his eyes and saw only care and concern there. “I will try, Legolas.”

Getting gracefully to his feet, Legolas squeezed her shoulder gently, [“Navaer, híril nín.”]

Rebecca smiled weakly, [“Navaer, hîr nín.”] She watched him walk swiftly from the room before returning to the injured man.

-

Now Gimli was talking about the beauty of the caves while he killed the orcs that had pressed the Rohirrim back into the semi-darkness. Only the scattered torches left by the women and children as they fled deeper into the caves illuminated the darkness. But the torches reflected off the natural crystals that covered the walls and high roof, casting an eerie glow to the spacious cavern.

Thomas stood with Gimli, beyond exhausted, somehow still on his feet and somehow still able to kill the orcs that came near. He knew he was fortunate that the uruks and hillmen had either all been killed or had turned back to the fortress. Killing one of those was beyond his strength and capabilities at this point. The smaller, almost mindless orcs were all he could manage.

“Gimli!” Thomas suddenly shouted as he tried to deflect a sword aimed at the dwarf’s head. He was only partially successful and the sword opened a gash above Gimli’s right eye. Thomas quickly killed the orc and jumped in front of Gimli to try and protect him. “Are you badly hurt?”

“No, but I can’t see, the blood is dripping into my eye,” he growled in frustration.

Fueled by a sudden spurt of adrenaline, Thomas killed the orcs around him, desperately trying to think of a way to help. “Tear off a piece of my tunic, Gimli,” he said in a strangled voice. He felt the dwarf tugging on the back of his tunic and assumed he was cutting off a strip to use as a bandage. “What else can I do?” he asked as the orcs started pressing in around them trying to take advantage of Gimli’s injury.

“I’m fine now, lad,” Gimli said as he darted out from behind Thomas and started killing orcs again with a dirty looking bandage tied around his head. “40!”

Thomas smiled in relief, if Gimli hadn’t lost track of his kills, he would be fine.

The sounds of horns could be faintly heard echoing through the cave. “The horn of Helm Hammerhand!” the men of Rohan cheered and resumed fighting vigorously while the orcs paused uncertainly. Gimli and Thomas exchanged puzzled looks as they continued their bloody work.

-

Looking around at the men on horseback, Aragorn wondered if they were really doing the wisest thing. The king had chosen this course of action and while he was not under his command, he still felt he needed to accompany Théoden. Legolas rode up on Arod, leaning over and speaking quietly, “Rebecca is helping with the wounded, Aragorn.”

“Good,” he nodded, pulling his horse around to join Théoden. “Théoden King, I believe your men are ready.” Aragorn drew his sword and Legolas his knife.

Théoden looked around at his riders. “Men of Rohan, remember the women and children, the families you are fighting for. Remember our lands that have been plundered and burned. Do not let evil prevail in this fight. Make this day a day worthy of song, worthy of remembrance, a day that will not be forgotten in the tales of all free peoples. Men of Rohan, we go forth to win the victory!”

The king gestured to the men at the door and they swung them open as the great horns of the Hornburg sounded. The men and horses surged out the door mowing down all in their path and slashing any creature standing in their way. Galloping across the courtyard and through the broken gate, the sun finally rose above the mountains, bathing the battlefield in glorious light.

Sweeping the enemy in front of them down the causeway, the Rohirrim came to a halt as they reached the grass. Saruman’s army was swirling in confusion as a large forest had appeared during the night, blocking off any escape back over the Dike. Turning to the west, they sought to escape up the ridge when a great host of men on foot appeared led by a white rider.

“Gandalf!” Aragorn and Legolas cried.

“Erkenbrand!” the men of Rohan yelled.

Trapped between the two forces of Rohan, the uruks and orcs were either slaughtered or driven into the trees and never seen again. As they were finishing off the last few, a cry sounded from the Deep. Éomer and his men pushed the last of the orcs from the caves and were chasing them back down towards the wall. The orcs were met and quickly dispatched by the Rohirrim outside the walls.

Gandalf, Aragorn, and Théoden met in the middle of the field as the men were starting to take care of the wounded, while Legolas went in search of Gimli and Thomas.

“Your arrival was timely, Gandalf,” Théoden stated dryly.

“So it appears, Théoden King. Though it looks as if the victory was costly,” Gandalf glanced at Aragorn.

“We lost many men from the Deeping Wall, especially when it was breached.” Aragorn turned in his saddle to look up at the wall, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Yet we have destroyed the might of Saruman,” Gandalf reminded him.

“I know, Gandalf, I know,” Aragorn nodded.

“What do you plan to do now?” Théoden asked.

“Ride to Isengard as soon as possible. I need to speak with Saruman.”

“I will accompany you; he has attacked my lands and killed my people. He must answer for this,” Théoden said with a scowl.

“Gandalf, we cannot leave until late this afternoon. There are wounded to care for and people need to eat and rest,” Aragorn said.

“Who is wounded?” he asked sharply.

Théoden and Aragorn looked at the wizard in surprise before Aragorn answered, “Well, there are many men wounded, but I think you probably mean among our companions.” Gandalf nodded impatiently. “Assuming Thomas is still alive, he will need a lot of stitches on his face.” Gandalf frowned. “I have not seen Gimli for a long time so I don't know about him. Rebecca is helping with the wounded right now." Aragorn smiled inwardly at the look of relief that crossed Gandalf's face, knowing that Rebecca had wormed her way into his heart, much as the hobbits had done.

"You are right; they will need some rest before we depart." Gandalf looked at the king, "I imagine you could use some rest as well."

Théoden nodded, "I do and I will also be taking twenty of my men with me and they will need rest as well." He turned and rode away, calling out instructions to his men.

Aragorn and Gandalf sat for a moment in quiet contemplation before urging their horses towards the causeway.

"Rebecca may have saved Éomer's and my life last night, Gandalf," Aragorn said, glancing sidelong at the wizard.

Gandalf pulled Shadowfax to an abrupt halt, "What? How?"

Aragorn quickly explained what had happened on the causeway. "We may have escaped on our own, Gandalf, but she definitely made it easier." Aragorn shook his head. "I am glad she was there," he admitted.

"Hmm," Gandalf pondered Aragorn's words, "As I told you before, we may never know their full purpose. It may have been that," he shrugged and they moved on into the courtyard.

Gimli, Legolas and Thomas were near the entrance to the Keep. Thomas was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, his hands wrapped around his pulled knees, staring vacantly into space. His wound had stopped bleeding, but it was hard to tell with the dirt and blood that covered him.

Aragorn slid off Hasufel and crossed swiftly to Thomas, dropping to his knees beside him. "Thomas?" he shook his shoulder gently, afraid he had gone into shock.

Thomas gazed at him, "Yes, Aragorn?" he asked, rubbing his blood-shot, dark-rimmed eyes.

Leaning back on his heels, Aragorn looked him over carefully. "Besides your face, are you hurt anywhere else?"

Thomas held up his hands which started shaking with exhaustion and he quickly lowered them. Aragorn gently picked them up one at a time and examined the numerous cuts and gouges. "Several of these wounds need to be stitched, Thomas."

"I know. The longer I'm here, Aragorn, the better I get at telling which sword cuts need stitches," he laughed hollowly.

Aragorn frowned, before nodding sadly, "I am going to stitch these and then you are going to get some rest. We are riding out tonight."

Thomas shrugged. At this point he didn't really care about anything... except... Rebecca. He reached out and snagged Aragorn's sleeve as he turned to talk with Gimli. "Aragorn, where's Rebecca? Is she all right?"

Aragorn nodded, "She is in the Keep helping the injured men. I am sure she is just as exhausted as the rest of us."

"You don't act tired," Thomas said, though Aragorn's eyes had the same dark circles as Thomas's.

"I am, and so are the others," Aragorn gestured to Gimli, Gandalf, and Legolas.

"I am not tired," Legolas protested.

"The elf is not tired," Aragorn amended. "However the rest of us are, but we have been doing this for a very long time, Thomas, and we know ways to deal with it. We are all going to get some rest as soon as possible. Now, I want to get your stitches done." Aragorn helped him to his feet, pausing when he saw the slight dizziness standing caused. Thomas leaned heavily on Aragorn as they went to the room that had been set aside for them and he sat down carefully.

"Sit over there, Gimli," Aragorn directed, "I will stitch your wound next."

Aragorn turned back to Thomas to find he had fallen asleep leaning back against the wall. He glanced up at Legolas as the elf handed him a basin of heated water, "Thank you." He gently cleansed Thomas's face, wrists and hands before stitching each wound. He took extra time on the gash on Thomas's cheek, knowing it would leave a scar, but wanting it to be as small as possible. He quickly bandaged him and laid him on a pallet before turning to Gimli.

"Were you too busy counting your kills to see the orc that did this?" Aragorn asked as he cleaned the cut.

"No," Gimli said shortly, shooting Aragorn a nasty glare, "though I did win by one. The beast came out of nowhere. Thomas partially deflected the blow and then held off the others long enough so that I could clear my eyes."

Aragorn paused, turning to stare at Thomas. He shook his head slightly, wondering how both he and Rebecca had managed to save someone else during the battle when both of them had little or no experience in fighting. He resumed his stitching of Gimli, lost in thought.

Legolas looked at Ar
ewers: Many thanks to everyone who is reading this story and especially to those who review. I appreciate the encouragement.

Elvish Translations:

Navaer, híril nín - Farewell, my lady
Navaer, híl nín - Farewell, my lord
Mellon nín - my friend


Chapter 19 - Aftermath

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Words in [...] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Chapter 19 – Aftermath



Laying Rebecca carefully down on the cot near Thomas, Aragorn tenderly washed the dried blood from her face and hands before covering her with a blanket. Stepping back, he gazed sorrowfully down at both of his young wards as he took in their blood-stained clothes and their wounded, exhausted bodies. He frowned slightly, wondering if they had, in fact, now fulfilled their purpose in Middle Earth, and if so, could he perhaps leave them somewhere safe. Shaking his head, he realized there was no way he would ever be sure that their purpose was complete and no safe place to leave them in any case. Finally washing his own hands and face, he lay down next to Gimli and Thomas and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

0-0-0-0-0


“Wake up,” Legolas’s slightly musical voice touched the edges of Rebecca’s and Thomas’s consciousness and started dragging them back to reality. A gentle shake of their shoulders completed the process. Rebecca cracked her eyes open first.

“What do you want, Legolas?” she growled, rubbing her hand across her eyes.

“I am sorry to awaken you, Lady Rebecca. Aragorn asked me to see that the two of you are ready to go; we leave in an hour. You need to get cleaned up and eat.”

Rebecca grimaced as she realized she was still in her blood-stained clothes, though she noticed her hands and face had been washed. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“About six hours.”

“Rebecca?” Thomas quickly sat up, but dizziness hit and he groaned, pressing a hand to his throbbing head. Leaning back against the wall next to her cot, he stared at her in dismay. “What happened to you?” he whispered, reaching out and gently stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“I was in a battle, same as you,” Rebecca retorted. “But you were hurt,” she said as she looked over his heavily bandaged head and lightly wrapped wrists and hands with a critical eye. She slowly and carefully sat up on the edge of the cot, trying to stretch the stiffness from her painfully sore back. “Are you dizzy?” she asked, peering into his eyes.

“A little,” he admitted. “But it’s better than last night. Or, I guess it was this morning, or…” Thomas looked at Legolas questioningly as the elf laid a hand on his arm.

“There is not much time, you need to get cleaned up and dressed. There is water over there for you, Rebecca. Thomas can change in the hall.”

Both nodded, though Thomas stopped immediately and Rebecca looked at him with a frown. “Thomas needs something for his pain and dizziness.”

“I will inform Aragorn,” Legolas replied as he carefully helped Thomas to his feet, making sure he had regained his equilibrium before releasing him.

Rebecca looked down at her blood-stained clothing and shuddered, “It’s ruined and the elves made these especially for me.”

“Elven-made material is easily cleaned, Lady Rebecca, I cleaned mine a short time ago. When you have changed, I will clean yours and Thomas’s while you eat.” Legolas smiled at Rebecca’s look of thanks as he helped Thomas out the door.

Fumbling with the ties of her tunic, Rebecca finally managed to unlace it. Taking a deep breath, she slowly arose, grimacing at the pain in her back. As she removed the tunic she wondered if the stiffness and pain were caused from all of the crawling around she had done during the night as she tended the wounded. It was a struggle taking off the heavy hauberk; pulling it up and over her head was almost impossible because of the pain and it took her many minutes to accomplish. She took off her shirt, pausing to look at the small rips and tears on the back of it, some of which were lightly tinged with dried blood. It was her own blood she realized with surprise, not Renward’s or one of the numerous wounded men she had tended. It had to have been caused by the rings in the hauberk and could only have happened when Renward fell on her and she landed so hard on her back. She closed her eyes to try and drive that image from her mind. Wishing she had a mirror so she could see her back, Rebecca slowly removed her leggings and started to wash. The water was cold, but she was so glad to rid herself of the last drops of blood and to feel clean once again that she didn’t care. She donned her spare set of clothes, again struggling with the hauberk while she debated about what to do with her shirt. It was torn and she wasn’t sure she wanted Legolas to see the holes and know that she was hurt. Still, she didn’t have any other clothes and the shirt wasn’t so badly torn that she couldn’t wear it under the hauberk or her tunic. Finally she decided he would question her about it either way so she put it with her other dirty clothes before opening the door and cautiously poking her head out.

“Come, Lady Rebecca, Thomas is dressed and waiting for you,” Legolas said with amusement in his voice. “Leave your weapons and packs, we will return for them.” Thomas stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, staring at the floor with hooded eyes. Taking Rebecca’s clothes, Legolas led them down the hall, stopping outside a small room and motioning for them to step inside, “Wait here, Gimli is supposed to bring you something to eat. I will find Aragorn and then clean these before returning.”

Sitting on a bench at the table, Rebecca leaned wearily against Thomas and he pulled her closer, resting his right cheek on the top of her head. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Thomas. I thought all of you had died,” she whispered.

It was a long time before Thomas replied, “I almost did Rebecca. I mean, I was fighting for my life the whole night, but this one time was different…” Rebecca felt him shaking and she sat up, turning carefully to see his face. He was staring at the wall opposite them, his eyes unfocused. She took his fingers, avoiding the bandages on his hands and wrists. Thomas glanced at her briefly, took a deep breath and continued. “I-I got distracted,” he confessed, “and an orc surprised me and did this,” he gestured to his face. “I saw him at the last moment and-and I tried to move back, but I wasn’t quick enough. My helm saved my life, Rebecca. But still… I fell and…” Rebecca’s eyes widened in horror. “and his sword was coming right at me…” Thomas stared at their hands for a moment, lightly caressing her bow calloused fingers as he paused. His voice was barely audible as he continued, “One of the Rohan men killed the orc, Rebecca. And then… and then he was attacked and I-I couldn’t get to him in time to help him. I was too slow. He-he died, Rebecca. He saved my life, but I couldn’t save his.” Thomas’s eyes glistened with unshed tears and guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Thomas,” Rebecca said, leaning against him once again, not really sure what to say. “I’m sorry the man died, but I’m so glad he saved you.”

Thomas went on, as if she hadn’t spoken, “All I can see, when I close my eyes, is him dying in front of me and not being able to stop it,” he dropped his head into his hand.

“I understand,” Rebecca whispered.

Thomas’s head jerked up. “No you don’t,” he said angrily. “How could you? You weren’t there. You didn’t see him fall,” his voice rising steadily in his pain and frustration.

Rebecca shoved herself back away from him, flinching slightly, staring at him in shock. “No, of course I couldn’t understand, Thomas,” she said sarcastically, “because I was safe up here and no died here.” She glared at him with eyes full of hurt and anger before turning away.

Thomas blanched as he looked at Rebecca sitting rigidly on the bench turned away from him. Caught up in his own pain and memories, he had forgotten about hers. Reaching for her, he gently touched her shoulder, “I’m sor…”

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, jerking her shoulder free.

“Rebecca, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking… about what you’ve been through, even though I knew you were in the battle and I saw the blood on your clothing earlier. I just… I just… will you please look at me?” a note of pleading entered his voice.

Rebecca slowed turned to face him and Thomas was not surprised to see tears pooled in her eyes. “Will you tell me?” he asked softly, “Was it in here helping the wounded?”

Hesitantly, Rebecca tried to explain, “It was horrible here too, Thomas. I-I had to decide who I thought had a chance to live and who to just let die.” She closed her eyes and tears leaked from the corners and trickled down her cheeks.

“Oh, Rebecca,” Thomas moved closer and tentatively placed his arm around her waist, drawing her closer when she made no objection.

“But-but it was worse on the wall when… Renward…”

“Who’s Renward?”

“One of the men who lives… lived in the Westfold, he and a man named Lyfgast stood next to me. We talked before the battle, they both have families,” Rebecca fiddled absently with the tie on her tunic and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to Lyfgast. Anyway, Renward… there was an arrow and… I-I tried to catch him, but he was too heavy and we fell.” She choked back a sob. “It was mostly his blood on my tunic, Thomas… at least at first.” Rebecca turned her face into Thomas’s chest and wept. He held her as tears rolled down his cheeks as well. They cried only briefly and then just held each other, neither one speaking, as they both marveled at the miracle that had allowed them to survive such a horrible battle when so many others had died.

“I have food,” Gimli announced as he entered the room. Rebecca and Thomas reluctantly pulled apart, quickly wiping away any last trace of tears as the dwarf set two plates of food and two mugs of something in front of them.

“Thank you, Gimli,” Rebecca said.

“Eat, the both of you,” he ordered as they just stared at the bread, meat and cheese on the plates. “You haven’t eaten for more than a day and we have a long ride ahead of us.”

Obediently, Rebecca and Thomas slowly started eating; eagerly gobbling it down once they tasted it. “What is this?” Rebecca sniffed the contents of the mug.

“Ale.”

“Ale?” Thomas asked, glancing at Rebecca.

“Aye, it’s not as good as dwarf-brewed, but it’s not half bad.”

Thomas took a small sip and smiled faintly at the dwarf. “It’s good, Gimli, different than what I’ve had at home, but good.”

“You drank beer at home?” Rebecca asked as she pushed her mug away after tasting it, grabbing her waterskin instead.

“I did work on a horse ranch and the men would have beer after work, Rebecca,” he said somewhat defensively, but Rebecca gave him a half-smile and he relaxed. He glanced back at Gimli who was watching them with a look of bewilderment. “At home you’re not supposed to drink beer or ale until you’re 18 and I’m not 18 yet.”

“You can’t drink ale until you’re 18?” Gimli looked at them in disbelief. “What do you drink then?”

“Water, milk, juice, soda…”

“Tea and coffee,” Rebecca added.

Thomas nodded, “Lots of other stuff too.”

Gimli just shook his head, “Why do you have to wait until you’re 18?”

“You become an adult at 18 and you drink and do other ‘adult’ things then,” Thomas shrugged.

Gimli grunted, “Our young ones start on ale at a young age, but we don’t have all those other things to drink.”

“Do not drink too much ale, Thomas,” Aragorn cautioned as he strode into the room carrying a bowl of steaming water. “Legolas told me your head is already in pain.”

“He’s dizzy too, Aragorn,” Rebecca spoke up.

“It’s not that bad,” Thomas protested.

After setting the bowl on the table, Aragorn crouched down next to the bench, looking into Thomas’s eyes and feeling his forehead. “No sign of fever,” he murmured with relief. “Now, Thomas, are you dizzy?” he stared intently at the young man.

Lowering his head, Thomas finally admitted, “A little bit, Aragorn, but only when I stand or move too fast.”

Aragorn’s lips twitched in amusement, “Sounds like more than a little, Thomas. And you do have a headache,” he stated.

“Yes.”

Aragorn stood and made him some of his pain-killing herbal tea using the hot water he had brought. “Drink this, it is the strongest I can give you without putting you to sleep again. I want you to ride next to Legolas,” Aragorn glanced up at the elf who had returned, “and if you are still in pain or have any difficulty, you will ride with him.” He waved off Thomas’s protests, “Rebecca is riding with me tonight.”

Thomas swallowed the herbal tea without complaint as Aragorn turned to Rebecca. “How do you fare?”

“Well, I… ”

“Tell me,” he ordered.

“My back hurts… at first I thought it was just because I was tired, but…” Rebecca glanced away from Aragorn’s intense grey eyes.

“Do you know what caused it?”

“I-I think so,” pictures of Renward falling on her flashed through her mind again. “I fell when one of the men on the wall… died and I tried to… catch him.”

Aragorn’s eyes widened and he glanced at the others to see that Gimli was staring at Rebecca, while Legolas was nodding as if it confirmed something he already knew or suspected. Thomas just looked down and Aragorn knew that Rebecca had already told him this story.

“I… see.” He tried to imagine the damage a fully armored man could cause if he fell on Rebecca and knocked her to the hard stones of the wall. “Well, your back is probably just bruised, but I need to check it before we leave to make sure you have not damaged your ribs or kidneys.” Aragorn glanced around the room and decided it would give them enough privacy. “Thomas, you wait outside with Gimli.” He waited until they left before continuing, “Rebecca, remove your tunic and hauberk, I can lift your shirt in the back and examine you, if that is all right.”

Rebecca nodded, “I trust you, Aragorn,” she said quietly, “and I can hold my tunic as well.” She slipped off her tunic and paused before attempting to remove the hauberk. Struggling with it, she found Aragorn’s gentle hands there to smoothly slip it over her head. “Thank you,” she whispered. Grabbing her tunic, she pressed it to her chest and turned her back to Aragorn, leaning against the wall.

Aragorn slipped up the back of her shirt, drawing in a sharp breath at the extent of the bruising that was already visible and the small round cuts scattered here and there across her back. He glanced at Legolas to see his sorrow mirrored in the elf’s eyes. The worst damage appeared to be across her upper back where her quiver had lain, it had evidently forced the chain mail into her skin. Holding her shirt up with his left hand, Aragorn gently pressed on different areas of her back, especially around her ribs and kidneys, with his right. In some places, Rebecca gasped or hissed in pain.

“Forgive me,” he said. “You are breathing well and I cannot feel any cracked ribs and your kidneys appear to be all right, you did not seem to be in any discomfort when I touched them. The worst is here,” Aragorn lightly touched her upper back and she nodded. He let her shirt drop and she turned around. “The cuts need to be cleaned but should heal on their own. I can make a healing salve that will soothe your back, especially the bruises. It will also greatly reduce your pain and speed the healing process, if that is what you want.” Aragorn waited patiently for her decision, knowing that she was a healer herself, even if a novice one, and that she knew what that would entail.

Rebecca stared at the ground, fidgeting uncomfortably, knowing that if Aragorn applied the healing salve he would also have to bandage her. But the pain she was in was so great that she knew she really had no choice. Perhaps if they were staying here for a few days she could deal with the pain, but not if they were going to be riding out in a few minutes.

“I am a healer, Rebecca,” he said gently, “and have treated many women in my long life.”

“All right,” she whispered.

“Sit down while I make the salve. Legolas, would you go and get me some more bandages and then take Thomas and get the horses ready to depart? Leave Gimli to guard the door,” Legolas nodded and silently left the room. Aragorn watched Rebecca from the corner of his eye as he started making the salve and he sighed inwardly at the distress he saw in her eyes. He wondered again at the wisdom of having a young girl in the midst of all of these men. It made situations like this so hard for Rebecca and he wished there were some way he could make it easier for her.

Tapping her foot nervously, Rebecca sat on the bench waiting for Legolas to return. She could hear Aragorn mixing and crushing the herbs, adding water and making the salve, though she refused to look at him and she was glad he didn’t try and talk with her. She sighed as she saw Legolas enter the room and hand Aragorn the bandages before quickly leaving and she wondered if life here in Middle Earth could get any worse than the past twenty-four hours.

Aragorn’s deep, gentle voice spoke behind her, “Rebecca I think we can do this so you are not too embarrassed. I will clean the wounds and then apply the salve and when it is time for the bandages, I will stand behind you and hand the roll to you to wrap around your front. Would that be better?” Rebecca nodded, biting her lip. “Then stand up and take off your shirt, we will do this quickly.”

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca removed her shirt, clutching it to her chest while Aragorn quickly cleaned the cuts and applied the cool healing salve to her back. “Now the bandages,” he murmured. She set her shirt on the table and Aragorn passed her the roll of bandages and she wrapped it around her and passed it back on the other side. They continued for several minutes until she was tightly wrapped. Aragorn neatly tied off the bandage. “You can put your shirt back on.” Rebecca quickly complied.

“How does it feel?” Aragorn asked.

Rebecca sighed, “It feels better, Aragorn. Thank you.”

He touched her shoulder briefly, “Good, but you still need to drink this,” he handed her the tea which she quickly downed. Aragorn helped her put the hauberk and tunic back on and they cleaned up the herbs before exiting the room. Gimli held out her weapons and Rebecca belted on her sword and dagger, but held her bow and quiver.

“How did my arrows get here?” she looked at Gimli in surprise as she ran her fingers over the fletching.

“The elf went out and retrieved them while we slept. Evidently elven arrows are easy to find,” he replied.

Rebecca shuddered at the thought of pulling arrows from dead bodies. Slowly she followed Aragorn and Gimli into the courtyard, blinking in the late afternoon sun. She stopped and stared at the ruined gate and at the wall on which she had stood with Renward and Lyfgast. Shaking her head, she hurried after Aragorn and Gimli.

“Good afternoon, young lady.”

“Gandalf!” Rebecca exclaimed, looking up to meet the wizard’s searching gaze.

“I hear you were injured.”

“A little, but Aragorn took care of me,” Rebecca glanced down and away.

“I also heard that you took care of him and Éomer last night.”

Rebecca stared at him in surprise, “How-how did you know about that?”

“Aragorn told me.”

“He or Éomer must have seen me, I guess. I never saw them after that until the battle was over. Actually, I haven’t seen Éomer since then. Is he all right?”

“He is fine,” Gandalf nodded in the direction of the horses and Rebecca could see him there talking with Aragorn and the king.

“That’s good… there’s been so much death here.” Rebecca glanced up at the wizard, “Where did you go last night?”

“Oh, here and there, I had some people I needed to speak with.”

Rebecca shook her head, “You never change, do you Gandalf?”

“Are you saying I am set in my ways, young lady?” a tone of sternness in his voice, but amusement in his eyes.

Seeing his expression, Rebecca nodded, “Yes that is exactly what I am saying.” She tried to smile, but she had neither the heart nor the energy for it.

Gandalf patted her shoulder gently as they reached the others and Rebecca made her way to where Thomas was standing near Gimli and Legolas.

“Are you all right?” Thomas asked, looking at her with concern.

“I feel better,” she replied. “How’s your head?”

Thomas frowned, “It still hurts,” he whispered, “but not as bad as it did. I’m sure I can ride by myself.”

“I can hear you,” Legolas said, his gaze fixed firmly on Thomas. “There is no shame, Thomas, in being injured and needing help. Almost all warriors are wounded at some point and have to rely on those around them until they are well. Do not let your pride cause you to bring further injury upon yourself.” Legolas’s voice was stern in a way Rebecca and Thomas had never heard it before, and Thomas dropped his head wearily in acceptance.

“All right, Legolas, I’ll ride with you,” he sighed in frustration. Riding with Legolas would make him feel like a child, even if he were injured. All of the other men riding out were strong and uninjured and were obviously better fighters than he was. Just like that man who had saved him during the battle. Thomas was tired of always being the youngest and the weakest… it had cost that man his life. He knew if he had just been a little more experienced or quicker, he could have saved him.

Legolas nodded and Rebecca watched him walk over and speak with Aragorn and Éomer.

“He’s right, lad.” Rebecca jumped at the sound of Gimli’s gruff voice beside her. “You don’t have anything to prove to us and no one will see riding with the elf as a weakness. Not with your injuries and especially not after last night.”

“Thanks, Gimli. I guess it just makes me feel like a kid to ride double…”

“Do you think I’m a child?” Gimli interrupted with a fierce gleam in his eye.

Thomas’s eyes widened in shock, “No, no of course not,” he quickly said.

“How about Rebecca?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Well, if we ride double and we aren’t children, then I doubt that anyone would think that of you.”

“I know you’re right, Gimli, but I still don’t like it. I hate being injured and having to be taken care of like this,” he paused. “What about you? Who will you ride with?”

“Master Gimli may ride with me,” Éomer said, and the three of them looked up to see the tall horse-lord approaching, followed closely by Aragorn and Legolas.

“It would be an honor to ride with you once more, Éomer.”

“Then that is settled.” Éomer looked Thomas over with concern, laying a heavy hand on his shoulder briefly before turning to Rebecca.

“Lady Rebecca!” Éomer took her hand and clasped it briefly as he looked her up and down. “Aragorn tells me that you were injured.”

Rebecca nodded, “I’ll be fine, Éomer, it isn’t serious.” She ignored the looks Aragorn and Legolas shot her, though Thomas and Gimli saw them and glanced at each other in concern.

Éomer smiled broadly, “Good. I was impressed by your skill with a bow and grateful for your help when Aragorn and I were on the causeway.”

Embarrassed by his attention and not wanting to talk about and relive her experiences on the wall, Rebecca nodded in acknowledgement of his words, but did not otherwise respond, instead staring at the ground.

Confused by her reaction, Éomer glanced at Aragorn who shook his head and frowned. Thomas, Legolas and Gimli were also looking between Rebecca and the two men wondering what had happened on the causeway.

It was King Théoden who broke the awkward silence by calling for them to mount up. As they moved to their horses, Éomer took Rebecca’s hand again and pressed it to his lips briefly. “Forgive me, Lady Rebecca, for making you uncomfortable. It was not my intention.”

Sighing, Rebecca finally met his eyes, “I know Éomer. I just… I just can’t talk about it yet.”

“That I can understand,” he said softly. Glancing at Aragorn, who had arrived with Hasufel, he released her hand and moved to his own horse, Firefoot. Aragorn watched him go with narrowed eyes before looking at Rebecca.

“How does your back feel?” he asked as he took her bow and quiver and attached it to the saddle.

“It’s a little better, the pain isn’t so intense. I’m sure a long horse ride will help it a lot,” she said dryly.

Aragorn gave her a half-smile, “I would leave you here if I could, Rebecca.”

Her eyes widened in fear, “Please don’t,” she whispered, laying her hand on his arm.

“I will not, but both you and Thomas would do better by staying here and resting until our return. Now, do you think you can mount by yourself or do you want me to pick you up and set you in the saddle?”

“I can do it, Aragorn,” she said in irritation, “I’m not a complete invalid.”

Biting back a grin, he motioned for her to proceed. Putting her foot in the stirrup, she reached up for the pommel of the saddle and gasped as pain rippled across her back. She dropped her arms and leaned wearily against the horse. “I guess I need help, Aragorn,” she whispered. Without saying a word, Aragorn placed his hands around her waist and lifted her into the saddle before mounting swiftly behind her.

-----

Thomas looked at Arod in appreciation as he approached. Even if he didn’t like the idea of riding double with Legolas, he did relish the thought of riding his horse. He let the stallion sniff his hand before he scratched and patted its neck.

“Are you ready?” Legolas asked.

Thomas nodded and waited for Legolas to mount so he could climb up behind him.

Legolas just looked down at him expectantly for a moment. “You will ride in front of me,” he finally stated.

“What? Why? I’m not a child,” he protested. “You don’t need to hold me.”

Legolas’s eyes turned to ice. “Thomas, you are injured, I will not have this discussion with you again. Get on the horse.”

Startled, Thomas obeyed the stern elven warrior without another word and was quickly astride Arod with Legolas behind him. He sat rigidly upright as Legolas urged the horse to follow Aragorn and the others out the broken gate and down the causeway. Thomas looked around at the trees, wondering how it was possible for an entire forest to appear out of nowhere. As much as possible he ignored the piles of uruks and orcs that they rode around, thankful that the bodies weren’t being burned. When Arod was urged into a slow canter, Thomas closed his eyes. Dizziness hit him as the ground sped by underneath them and his body sagged back towards Legolas.

“Are you well, [mellon nín?]” Legolas asked his voice full of concern.

“I’m dizzy,” Thomas admitted.

Legolas slipped his arm around Thomas’s chest and pulled him closer, “Rest, Thomas, your body needs it to heal. I will not let you fall.”

Thomas didn’t respond, but he kept his eyes closed and soon fell into a restless, uneasy sleep.

-----

Aragorn heaved a sigh of relief as he finally exited the forest following Théoden and Gandalf. It had taken them several hours to ride through the dark, dreary woods and the light of the setting sun was a relief. He glanced around to see identical expressions on the faces of those he rode with, except for Legolas who looked back at the woods longingly. Rebecca stirred against him and cried out softly in her sleep. Aragorn whispered to her soothingly in elvish and she quieted once again. He adjusted his cloak, which he had placed between them to cushion her back, so that it would pillow her head as well.

Free of the gloomy forest, the small company kicked their horses into a canter as they headed north towards Isengard. Aragorn looked to the east, his thoughts drawn, as they often were, to Frodo and Sam. He hoped they were safe and that the events of the last day would draw Sauron’s eye to Rohan and away from his own borders. Slipping into Mordor was an incredibly difficult and dangerous task and keeping Sauron occupied elsewhere could only help the Ringbearer. He knew their only true hope lay with Frodo and Sam. Aragorn turned his gaze back to the north with a soft sigh.

They rode late into the night, pausing only briefly to rest the horses. Around midnight they stopped to sleep for the few hours left of the night. Aragorn hesitated as he sat on Hasufel. He did not want to wake Rebecca, she needed as much sleep as she could get. Frowning slightly, he watched as Legolas easily slipped off Arod holding Thomas, and not for the first time in his long life did Aragorn wish he had the innate grace of an elf. Deciding to wait until Legolas was free so that he could hand Rebecca down to him, he watched patiently as Legolas directed Gimli to lay out Thomas’s bedroll. Seeing Éomer approach caused Aragorn to stiffen slightly in the saddle and his eyes to narrow with annoyance.

“I will take her,” he said meeting Aragorn’s steely gaze.

Aragorn hesitated only briefly, knowing it was best for Rebecca to be off the horse and lying on the ground. “Be mindful of her back,” he said, as he gently settled Rebecca into Éomer’s arms.

As Éomer moved away, Aragorn dismounted, handing the reins to one of Théoden’s guards before grabbing their packs and following the horse-lord. He placed Rebecca’s bedroll on the ground a short distance away from Thomas’s and then placed his on top for extra padding. Éomer placed her there, laying her gently on her side and covering her with a blanket. She stirred momentarily and then slipped back into sleep. “Thank you,” Aragorn said as Éomer looked down at her briefly and then glanced at him with an unreadable expression before walking away.

Aragorn moved over to check on Thomas and found him sleeping deeply. He touched his forehead lightly and was relieved that there was still no sign of fever. Infection from filthy orc weapons was a common problem and a frequent cause of death among warriors. Aragorn glanced at Legolas as he stood, “Did he sleep the whole time?”

“Much of it, though he was restless until the last few hours.”

“He is deeply asleep now. I believe he will be much improved in the morning.”

Legolas switched to elvish, [“You will not be able to keep him off of Baldor then,”] he shook his head. [“He is quite stubborn.”]

[“His stubbornness also gives him strength, helping him overcome his inexperience; in battle and just surviving here in Middle Earth.”]

Legolas nodded, [“Yes, but it hinders him from seeking aid when he needs it.”]

[“He will learn as I did, Legolas. Thomas is still very young. I think we all forget how young he is… how young both of them are,”] Aragorn glanced over at Rebecca.

[“What happened on the causeway last night?”]

["Éomer and I were trying to stop a battering ram and Rebecca rescued us by shooting uruks so that we could make our escape.”]

[“Are you sure it was her?”] Legolas looked at Rebecca in disbelief.

[“Quite sure, I saw her when we returned to the Hornburg. Everyone else was out of arrows by then, but she would have had to wait until the orcs were closer before she could shoot.”] Aragorn shrugged, [“You saw her reaction, mellon nín, it was her or she would have denied it when Éomer brought it up today.”]

[“So they both saved someone last night… it hardly seems possible.”]

[“And yet it is. Now, while I am sure you are still not tired, I certainly am. Good-night, Legolas.”] Aragorn wrapped his cloak tightly around himself and laid down between Thomas and Rebecca, noting that Legolas lay down on the far side of Rebecca next to Gimli.

The sound of weeping awoke Aragorn. Recognizing that it was Rebecca, he pushed himself up on his elbow and gazed down at her. He saw with surprise that she was still asleep even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“She began stirring a short time ago, [mellon nín,”] Legolas whispered.

Aragorn nodded as he carefully felt her forehead, but there was no sign of a fever.

“No…no… Renward… don’t…. blood….Renward!” Rebecca began mumbling and moving restlessly.

“Who is Renward?” Legolas asked.

“I know not. It is obviously rohirric, someone from the battle, I assume,” Aragorn replied.

“Blood…so much…Boromir… mom… mom?...” Rebecca started moaning.

Aragorn swiftly picked her up and cradled her in his arms. She quieted some as he softly spoke to her, but the weeping continued unabated. Gandalf had risen at the noise, looking at Rebecca with compassion as he joined them.

“Can you not send her into a healing sleep, Aragorn?”

“I could, Gandalf.”

“But?”

“We have to ride in a few hours and I would have to wake her. It is not wise to send someone to that kind of sleep and then bring them out so quickly.”

“Can she not sleep while she rides with one of us?” Legolas asked. “It is another five or six hours until we reach Isengard.”

“She could…” Aragorn paused, “yet she has slept so long all ready today that I hesitate.” He glanced down at Rebecca who was still quietly asking for her mom as she wept and his heart tore at the sound. Aragorn placed his hand over her eyes and forehead. Closing his eyes in concentration, he reached his mind out and gently soothed her spirit, easing her into a deep, calming sleep. He carefully placed her back on the bedroll and Legolas pulled the blanket over her. With a last glance at Gandalf and Legolas, Aragorn wrapped his cloak about himself once more and lay back down for the last few hours of the night.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas awoke while it was still full dark. He lay quietly for a moment and then slipped from his bedroll as noiselessly as possible. Though he knew that both Aragorn and Legolas heard him get up, he hoped they would go back to sleep once they realized what had disturbed their rest. Walking carefully through the sleeping men he nodded to a sentry as he passed. A short distance beyond the perimeter of the camp, Thomas sat down just below the crest of a small hill, out of sight of the sentries. He sat with his arms wrapped tightly around his pulled up knees with his cloak wrapped around him and the hood pulled up over his head.

Staring into the darkness with a heavy heart, Thomas tried to figure out what he could have done differently. A man was dead and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t gotten distracted the man would still be alive. Thomas wondered if he had a wife and children, but he quickly tried to push that thought away as it reminded him too much of his own family.

But thoughts of his family were not easily pushed away and Thomas found himself thinking of his father. He wondered if his father had been killed because some other young soldier had been careless or if his father had caused the death of others for the same reason.

Thomas groaned and buried his head in his hands, consumed by guilt and then anger that he was even in this position where he could cause another’s death. He knew this war, these battles were important for the future of Middle Earth. Sauron had to be destroyed. But he didn’t even belong here and if he was going to cause other people to die maybe he should just stay somewhere out of the way until the war was over.

Shaking his head, Thomas knew he could never do that. It was a cowardly thing to do and he cared too much for Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf to stay behind. There was no way he could watch them ride off into danger while he stayed in a safe place like a scared little kid. Then there was Rebecca. She would not be left behind again and loving her as he did, Thomas planned to remain close to her, to protect her if he could. No, he would go on and he vowed to do a better job in any future battles – to not get distracted and to try and do his best to avenge the man who had died.

Sighing, Thomas looked up and wiped away the tears that had silently fallen. The sun was just starting to lighten the sky in the east and he realized he had been sitting for more than an hour. Starting to arise he felt a firm hand on his shoulder pushing him back down.

“Stay, I need to change your bandages and check your stitches,” Aragorn’s quiet commanding voice broke the stillness of the morning. He moved around in front of Thomas and crouched down next to him. Aragorn regarded him steadily for a moment before he opened his pack of healing supplies. “Are you dizzy or in much pain?” Thomas shook his head. “What troubles you this morning, Thomas?”

“Nothing troubles me, I was just thinking.”

“Nothing?” Aragorn looked at him in disbelief as he began to unwrap the bandages from Thomas’s head.

Thomas shrugged.

“How did you get this wound?”

Shocked by the question, Thomas tried to pull his head from Aragorn’s grip.

“Stay still.” Aragorn looked at him with a slight frown, “Thomas, how did you get this?” he persisted, setting aside the bandages he had removed.

“An orc did it.”

“So I gathered,” Aragorn said dryly. He tilted Thomas’s head to inspect the stitches more closely. “But how did it happen?”

Thomas let out a frustrated sigh and began to explain, never once meeting Aragorn’s eyes. Aragorn continued to check his wounds as Thomas talked and he re-bandaged his hands, but not his face.

“I was battling an orc… and-and I heard someone yell about the orcs in the Deep. I-I got distracted, Aragorn,” he paused.

“Go on.”

“Well, that’s when the orc did this,” Thomas shivered.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What happened next? When the orc slashed you, you probably fell, did you not?” Aragorn gazed at Thomas shrewdly from where he now sat next to him.

“Yes,” he whispered, hanging his head. “I-I would have died too, but-but a man killed the orc. I got up as fast as I could and the man was attacked, Aragorn, but I wasn’t fast enough to help him.” Thomas looked at Aragorn with anguished, tear-filled eyes. “I should be dead, Aragorn, not him. It’s my fault he died… if I hadn’t been distracted he’d still be alive.”

“Hmm, possibly.” Aragorn stared across the plains for a moment lost in thought. Finally he glanced at Thomas, but he had his hood back up and he could not see his eyes. “Did I ever tell you about my cousin, Halbarad?” Thomas shook his head. “I know in Lothlórien I told you how I was raised and about my elven brothers, Elladan and Elrohir.”

“Yes,” Thomas whispered.

“I am as close to them as if we were true brothers, for all that they are 3,000 years older than me. They were always around as I grew up and they taught me much of what I know. When I was twenty and my [adar] told me my true name and heritage, I left Rivendell soon after to join the Rangers.

Thomas had pulled his hood down and was staring at Aragorn curiously for this seemed to have nothing to do with what they had been discussing.

“One of the best things about being with the Rangers was discovering that I had blood kin, an uncle and a cousin, Halbarad.”

“You had an uncle and a cousin you didn’t know about?”

Aragorn shook his head, “My [naneth] and [adar] told me nothing about my family, even though Halhigil was her older brother.” Aragorn sighed, “They were doing their very best to protect me from Sauron, Thomas, and to give me the best childhood they could. It was very difficult for my [naneth].”

“Is-is she still alive?”

“No, she died several years ago,” Aragorn glanced away briefly.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas laid his hand on Aragorn’s arm and he nodded once before returning to his story.

“My cousin is now the only kin I have left since my mother passed. He was only a couple of years older than me and we became friends very quickly. For several reasons, our kinship and our close age made it easy to start with. But for me it was also that he treated me normally.” Aragorn absentmindedly twisted the ring on his index finger that signified his lineage. He glanced at Thomas, “I was only a couple of years older than you and all of these older men looked to me because of my name and who I was supposed to be.” He smiled wryly, “It was a little intimidating. Halbarad just allowed me to be myself and we became as close as brothers.”

“I had only been with the Rangers about a year when Caladel, the leader of our band of five, planned an ambush of a known orc den. We knew that ten to fifteen orcs were holed up inside and we were in place several hours before dark. The battle started and I had killed a couple of orcs when I found my attention drawn to movement inside the cave. I was so focused on it that I did not see an orc coming from behind me. Halbarad shoved me aside and though he eventually killed the orc, he was slashed badly across the leg. The sword was poisoned and he almost died.”

Thomas stared at Aragorn in disbelief, “That happened to you? What did you do?”

Aragorn snorted. “Everything I could to save his life. I could not let him die after he saved my life and was wounded when it was my fault. Though I was the youngest, I was the best trained healer in our band and I did not leave his side for three days until I was convinced he would recover. Still, the guilt I carried was incredible.”

“I understand,” Thomas said quietly, looking at the sun that was now peeking over the distant mountains.

Aragorn laid a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and waited until he looked at him. “But Halbarad would not let me hold on to that guilt, Thomas. He told me it was his choice to risk his life for mine and he would willingly do it again. He also reminded me that if he had not been hurt then, he might have been hurt later in the battle.”

“But if you hadn’t been distracted… if I hadn’t been distracted, it wouldn’t have happened,” Thomas protested.

“Thomas, by that time in my life I had been training with a sword and as a warrior for more than ten years. If I, who had been trained by not only my brothers, but also by Glorfindel, the mightiest elven warrior on Middle Earth, can be distracted in a battle, so can you. Things happen in battles that we cannot control, Thomas.” He paused and looked intently at the young man, “Would you have tried to save this man’s life if he had needed help?”

Thomas looked startled and then thoughtful, “Yes, of course I would. I couldn’t just stand there and watch someone die and not try and help them.”

“I imagine he felt the same. Let go of the guilt, Thomas, do not let his choice… his sacrifice turn you bitter and angry. You cannot change what happened, be thankful that you are alive and enjoy the gift he gave you.”

Nodding, Thomas gazed at Aragorn searchingly for a long moment, “But it’s not easy, is it?”

“No, it is not, but it is worth the effort that it takes.”

“Did-did you have dreams… well, not dreams really, but… Aragorn, when I close my eyes, I see him dying again and again,” he whispered.

“No, not from that time, but from other battles I have had those kind of visions. It will diminish eventually Thomas, but it will take time,” Aragorn gazed at him with such a look of compassion and understanding that Thomas had to look away.

“Well, at least I know I’m normal,” he said, glancing sidelong at Aragorn. “Thank you, I will try.”

Aragorn nodded as he arose, “I need to bandage your face so we can return to camp.” He quickly did so and they returned to find the others starting to pack up and saddle horses for the ride to Isengard.

0-0-0-0-0

They had been riding for about four hours when Aragorn decided it was time to wake Rebecca. She had not stirred since he had sent her to sleep. In an effort to make her more comfortable she was riding with both her legs on one side of the horse while he carefully cradled her shoulders and head with his left arm. Shifting the reins to his left hand, Aragorn covered her eyes and forehead with his right. Concentrating for a moment, he smiled and then called softly, “Rebecca, awake now.”

Her eyes slowly opened and she clutched at him instinctively at the movement of the cantering horse. “What? Aragorn?” She gave him such a look of confusion that he almost laughed.

“Be at peace, Rebecca. We are on our way to Isengard.”

“But why am I…” she struggled to sit up, “sitting… or lying like this?”

Aragorn helped her sit fully up, being mindful of her back. “Because you needed the rest.”

“And I slept this long?” she glanced up at the sun.

“It is not quite how it appears. You were having a very difficult time last night Rebecca,” his voice became soft and gentle. “Crying in your sleep and mumbling about people… you will have to tell me who Renward is.” She looked away. “But then you started asking for your mom over and over and nothing Legolas, Gandalf or I could do seemed to sooth you. Finally, I pushed you into a healing sleep.”

“Oh.” Rebecca digested this information for a few moments, looking down at her hands and trying to decide if she should be embarrassed or not. She realized, though, that she had been in much more embarrassing situations with these men and there was really nothing to be ashamed of in any case. “How can you do that?” she glanced up at him.

“It is part of my healing gift because of my lineage, Rebecca. All of my ancestors had it to some degree, though I suspect mine may be greater because of the training given me by my [adar], Lord Elrond.”

“It must be useful.”

“It is, though I was sorry to have to use it last night. It was not what you truly needed, Rebecca, but it was the only comfort we could give you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled faintly up at him before looking back out across the plains. “Is everyone else all right?” she tried to see over her shoulder, but the awkward way in which she was sitting on the horse made it difficult.

“They are fine. Even Thomas is feeling better and is riding Baldor this morning. How is your back?”

Rebecca moved her shoulders up and down, frowning at the pain. “Sore.” Her eyes widened, “But I’m sure I’ll be fine, Aragorn,” she said quickly.

“Yes, you will. However, your back will be sore for several days. I can give you something for the pain, but you will need to remove the bandage soon, tonight or in the morning.” Rebecca nodded. They rode in silence for a time before Aragorn asked, “Who is Renward?”

Rebecca shot him an irritated glare, “Don’t you ever forget anything?” Her hand that was not firmly clamped to Aragorn’s arm began to fiddle with the ties on her tunic. Her voice was dispassionate when she finally answered. “He was a man I met on the wall and we talked before the battle. An arrow hit him in the throat and he was the one I tried to catch, but we fell. I had his blood all over me,” she shuddered.

“I am so sorry, Rebecca.” He paused, looking down at her uncertainly, “Did that happen before or after you shot the uruks on the causeway?”

“Before.”

Aragorn shook his head slightly, even more amazed at her courage. “After that happened, you got up and continued fighting?”

“Yes,” Rebecca turned and looked him in the eye. “I was needed, Aragorn. So many men were wounded and dying…” her voice was barely a whisper. “I had to help.”

“You have incredible courage, Rebecca. Lady Galadriel was right to have you trained as you were; you saved many men with your healing skills alone.”

“I hope I never have to fight like that again, Aragorn, but I will if I have too.”

“I know you will and I fear that we shall have to before this ends,” Aragorn looked at her with sorrow.

She just nodded grimly and turned her face to the north, towards Isengard.

0-0-0-0-0

The black tower of Orthanc could be seen looming above the earth several miles before they arrived at Isengard. Rebecca, who was now sitting more comfortably astride, glanced over at Thomas with a grimace which he returned. As they approached, Aragorn suddenly thrust the reins into her hands, “Take these and duck down,” he ordered. Startled, she complied, cringing as he pulled Andúril from its sheath with his left hand, passing it over her head and transferring it to his right. “You may sit up now,” he said as he took the reins back.

“Do I need to draw my sword?” she asked, glancing back at him.

“Not yet, just be prepared to. Mine is just harder to get to,” he said, not taking his eyes off Isengard. The beautiful forest he remembered surrounding Isengard was gone, replaced by jagged stumps and the filth of orcs. The towering walls and been breached and completely destroyed in places and they reined to a halt at the nearest gate.

“Is this your doing, Gandalf?” Théoden asked.

“No, I had not the time nor the power for this, Théoden King,” Gandalf said with a trace of amusement in his voice. “But, come we shall meet the ones who did.” He led them cautiously through the partially destroyed gate.

Inside Isengard the destruction was even more apparent. There were huge piles of broken stones, scattered pieces of wood, bodies of dead orcs, and pools of filthy water. Movement on top of one of the piles of stone brought swords out among all the guards, while smiles of delight graced the faces of those that remained of the Fellowship.

“Pippin! Merry!” Rebecca cried, struggling to get off Hasufel to greet them. Aragorn tightened his grip around her waist. “Wait, Rebecca, it may not be safe,” Aragorn’s eyes searched the ground looking through the debris. She stopped struggling with an annoyed sigh while Merry and Pippin looked at her with surprise clearly written on their faces.

Pippin recovered first, “Rebecca how did you get here? Why aren’t you in Lothlórien? You’re wearing chain mail! Did Aragorn let you fight?” The last was said with a fierce scowl directed at Aragorn and muffled chuckles came from Éomer and the guards while Gimli, Legolas and Thomas grinned. Aragorn just stared at Pippin as he struggled to hold back a smile.

“Pippin!” Merry scolded, pulling on Pippin’s sleeve even as he smiled at Rebecca. “It is good to see you again, Rebecca, and everyone else of course,” he said looking at the rest of his companions.

“Gandalf, are these the ones who have caused this damage?” Théoden asked dubiously, looking Merry and Pippin up and down

“We’re hobbits, my lord king,” Merry bowed. “Treebeard told us to watch for you. Meriadoc Brandybuck at your service and this is my cousin, Peregrin Took.” Pippin also bowed. “And, no, we did not cause this damage,” Merry looked around, “the ents did.”

“Ents! Then they still exist and are not just legends… as do holbytlan… or hobbits as you name yourself.”

Merry nodded, “Yes, my lord, though some people call us halflings. We’re from the Shire which is far north of here…” Gandalf cleared his throat.

Théoden smiled down at him, “I would that we had more time to talk Master Merry, I would like to hear more of you and your people. However, I fear that other things will take my time this day.”

“Merry, where is Treebeard?” Gandalf asked.

“Oh, he is on the northern side of Orthanc and he is expecting you and the king. Pip and I picked out some food for you and your men earlier this morning. Though we kept some back if our friends would like to stay here and eat,” Merry looked up at Gandalf with a grin.

“I imagine you did,” Gandalf said dryly before looking at Aragorn. “I must speak with Treebeard, but I can summon you before we talk with Saruman.”

Aragorn nodded, “Then I will stay, I would like to hear how these two brave, young hobbits managed to escape the orcs. We may not have another chance.”

As Gandalf and the Rohirrim rode off, the others dismounted and Rebecca finally got to greet Merry and Pippin properly. She dropped to her knees to hug Pippin and stopped, giving him a puzzled look. “Wait a minute, you’re taller.”

He grinned, “We both are, the ents gave us what they usually drink and this is what happened. I don’t mind.” He hugged her, followed quickly by Merry. She gasped softly at the pain their embrace caused, but tried to hide it from the hobbits. Merry’s sharp eyes saw her, however, and he asked, “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing to worry about Merry, I’m feeling much better.”

Merry and Pippin glanced up at Aragorn who shrugged and nodded.

“And what happened to you, Thomas?” Pippin demanded.

“An orc,” Thomas replied, glancing away, missing the concerned looks that passed swiftly between the hobbits and the rest of the Fellowship.

“I heard you hobbits talk about food,” Gimli said. “Can we talk and eat at the same time? I’m hungry, not that were likely to get anything good to eat here,” he said darkly.

“Come on,” Pippin said, tugging on Rebecca’s hand. “We actually have very good food, Gimli! We found the storerooms where food was kept for the men Saruman had in his service. There is also pipeweed from the Shire,” he glanced up at Aragorn as he said the last.

Aragorn’s face brightened at the thought of being able to smoke again, but then darkened as he considered how pipeweed could have made its way here from the Shire. There was no regular trade between the Shire and most other places outside of the village of Bree, so it should not be here in Isengard. Yet it was not something he could deal with now, it had to be set aside to be dealt with at a later time.

The hobbits led them into what had once been a guardroom and the five of them sat down as Merry and Pippin bustled around pulling out cheese, dried meats, fruit and even ale and wine. Finally all was in readiness and the hobbits joined them at the table for their second lunch of the day. For a moment it was quiet as they dug in, but eventually questions started flowing back and forth between the friends.

“Rebecca, did Aragorn let you fight?” Pippin asked, again scowling at Aragorn who just looked at him impassively.

“I fought, Pip, but I was needed a-and I wanted to… though that was before I knew what it was like,” she looked at him sadly. “It was horrible, but,” she swallowed hard, “I’ll do it again if I need to.”

“She saved lives,” Legolas said. “And then when she ran out of arrows she helped with the wounded and I know that many lives were saved there as well,” he gave Rebecca a small smile, but she shuddered in remembrance of the blood and the dying.

“Arrows?” Merry looked between Legolas and Rebecca, “What do you mean arrows?”

“Oh, Haldir taught me archery while we were in Lothlórien,” Rebecca shrugged. “Lady Galadriel asked him to teach me right after we got there, but she didn’t want any of you to know for some reason.” She glanced at Aragorn with a sly smile, “Actually, I think she believed someone might not approve,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Aragorn smiled at her, somewhat relieved to see her sense of humor, even if just a tiny bit, coming out.

“I’m just glad you’re all right,” Merry said before turning to Thomas who was staring at the floor. “You don’t look very well, Thomas.”

Thomas glanced at him briefly, “Oh, I’m feeling better Merry. My head is just a little sore is all.”

“Do you want something for the pain, Thomas?” Aragorn asked.

“No, I’m fine,” Thomas sat up and looked at his friends who were watching him with concern. “Really, the pain is not that bad,” he said shifting uncomfortably under their regard.

“Thomas saved my life!” Gimli announced to the hobbits and Thomas looked at him gratefully for a moment.

“What? How?” Both hobbits spoke at once.

Gimli told them what had happened in the cave during the battle and Thomas once again found himself the center of attention and the hobbit’s praise.

“I’m no hero, it’s what anyone would do,” he protested, pausing as he realized what he had said. He looked at Aragorn who gazed at him with an eyebrow raised and a faint smile.

“I’m still grateful lad,” Gimli replied as the conversation moved on leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts.

“We still have not heard of your time with the orcs,” Legolas said, looking at Merry and Pippin.

The hobbits glanced at each and then Pippin spoke quietly, absentmindedly rubbing his fingers along the rim of his mug as he spoke. “It’s hard to talk about really, because the days blurred together. But there were endless times of running. They would make us run until we fell and… and then one would pick me up and throw me over its shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes.” He glanced around the table at the others and then kept his eyes on Aragorn as he continued. “I felt so alone, Aragorn. Merry was separated from me a lot of the time,” he swallowed hard and then stopped altogether.

Merry placed a hand on Pippin’s shoulder and continued. “We were separated, but mostly it was because I was unconscious for a lot of the time. I hit my head on something and was only partially awake during those three days. Pippin was very brave, he cut the ropes on his hands when he had the chance and then left them looped so the hands still looked tied. That’s how we eventually escaped.” Merry embraced his cousin from the side and whispered something into his ear that no one could hear. Pippin smiled and straightened up on the bench, giving Merry a grateful glance.

“Pippin, I have something to return to you that I believe you thought lost forever.” Aragorn held up Pippin’s Lothlórien leaf-shaped brooch pin.

“You found it,” Pippin’s eyes became enormous.

“It gave us much hope.”

Pippin reached to take it and Aragorn noticed his wrist for the first time as his growth spurt left his sleeve a couple of inches too short. The ropes the orcs had bound him with had cut deeply into his flesh in places and rubbed it raw in others. While it was healing well, it still looked painfully sore. As Pippin took the pin, Aragorn grabbed his forearm and turned the wrist around carefully to inspect it before looking up to meet the hobbit’s eyes questioningly. Pippin shrugged, “The uruks seemed to be quite serious about us staying with them.”

“Oh, Pippin,” Rebecca winced as she looked at the wound from where she sat next to Aragorn.

“Let me see your left hand.” Pippin gave it to him and Aragorn found it to be much the same. He turned to Merry to find the hobbit already had his arms extended for Aragorn to inspect. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” After exchanging brief glances, both nodded reluctantly.

“They whipped us across our legs,” Merry said and he and Pippin came around the table to show Aragorn the back of their legs. The damage on their legs was less severe and while it would leave scars, it also was healing well. Aragorn brushed the hair back on Merry’s forehead as he caught sight of something and discovered a gash, but it too was closed up and healing.

“Who took care of these injuries?” Aragorn asked.

“No one,” Merry replied. “Oh, I did what I could of course, which wasn’t much as we had no supplies. I think it was the ent draught we drank that has us healing so well.”

“I suppose if it made you grow, it could heal your bodies as well,” Aragorn looked at them sadly and patted them gently on the shoulder.

“It looks like you had to be royalty not to be injured on this trip,” Pippin quipped, glancing at the Prince of Mirkwood and up at the heir to the throne of Gondor. He laughed and after a moment the others joined him.

Merry pulled out the pipeweed and he, Aragorn, Gimli, and Pippin eagerly filled their pipes. Legolas looked at them with a frown, “Must you do that in here?”

Pippin shook his head, “We can go back outside, we found a decent spot near here.” He led them to what had evidently been a roof-top guard post. They sat or lay sprawled across the hard rock. Legolas kept well away and down wind from those with pipes. They sat quietly for a time as old friends do, just enjoying being together; being in a place of relative peace and safety for the moment.

“Merry, how did the ents do this?” Gimli waved his hand around to indicate all the damage done to Isengard.

Merry looked down for a moment and then gazed around him with narrowed eyes. “An angry ent is a frightening thing to watch, Gimli, and these were very angry ents. Pip and I stayed with Treebeard and so we knew we were safe. They tore through these walls and this fortress like it was… paper. Of course, they killed every orc they saw, all the men seemed to have disappeared.”

“They dammed up the river and flooded the place, that’s why there’s water everywhere,” Pippin interrupted.

“That is why the Isen River was empty last night,” Legolas commented, glancing at Aragorn and Gimli.

“Orthanc is the only thing that they haven’t been able to touch,” Pippin continued. “I don’t know why. It looks like rock, but Saruman has done something to it.”

“It is not of Saruman’s doing,” Aragorn looked towards the black tower. “The men of Númenor built it thousands of years ago during the Second Age.”

“Anyway, Saruman is still in there,” Merry said with a shrug. “Maybe Gandalf can get him to come out.”

“Um… Aragorn?” Rebecca hesitated for a second, but her curiosity got the best of her. “What age is it now and where or what is Númenor?”

Aragorn chuckled and Rebecca said, “Well, I don’t know.”

“When this is over, I shall have to find you a good teacher. To answer your questions, this is the Third Age…”

“Almost the Fourth,” Legolas interrupted. “When Aragorn takes the throne,” he gave his friend a piercing glance, “that will be the start of the Fourth Age of Middle Earth.”

“So… it’s not like so many years long, some event or something starts an age.”

“Yes. Now your other question is much more involved and as I see one of the guards approaching I will be very brief. Númenor was a great island nation of men that was destroyed in the Second Age. Some of the people escaped the destruction there and sailed to these lands where they founded the nation of Gondor, I am descended from those people.” Aragorn stood, drawing the attention of the guard and indicating that they would join him in a moment.

-----

They rode carefully through the debris following the guard towards Orthanc. Rebecca finally got to ride with Thomas again, while Pippin rode with Aragorn, Gimli with Legolas and Merry with the guard. The guard led them to the north side of the tower where they found Gandalf, Théoden and Éomer waiting for them. Treebeard was also standing there, towering over the group. Rebecca watched her companions with amusement as they got their first glimpse of an ent and she wished she could also see Thomas’s expression.

“That’s an ent?” Thomas whispered in her ear.

Rebecca nodded, glancing back at him, “His name is Treebeard.”

“How…how is that even…possible?” he asked as they dismounted.

Rebecca stared at him, “After everything you’ve seen here, you can still ask a question like that?”

Thomas smiled faintly, “I guess that’s true, but still…” he shrugged.

The two of them walked with the hobbits as they headed to the tower. Pippin slipped his hand into Rebecca’s and she smiled down at him, “I missed you a lot,” she whispered. He grinned, “I’m sure you did, being surrounded by all of these old men is not easy.” Rebecca giggled and Gandalf turned and glared at the two of them, while Aragorn glanced back with a frown, though there was just the slightest hint of relief in his eyes.

Gandalf turned to the group as they reached the bottom of the steps that led up to the entrance of the tower and he looked at them sternly, “Remember that much of Saruman’s power lies in his tongue, do not be deceived. Rebecca and Thomas, I want you and the hobbits to stay here. Do not speak under any circumstance, whether he asks you a question or if you are upset by his words. Do you understand?” He gazed long and searchingly at Rebecca and Thomas as all four nodded and sat near the steps on a large stone to watch and see what would happen.

“Éomer shall accompany me, my guards will also wait there,” Théoden directed, motioning them to the side of the steps.

The small group mounted the broad black steps leading up to the door of Orthanc. Gandalf rapped sharply on the door several times with his staff calling, “Come forth, Saruman.” Several minutes passed with no response and he knocked again. This time a window about ten feet above the door opened and an old white-haired man peered down at them.

“Théoden King, long have I desired to meet with you to discuss the evils that have plagued our lands,” Saruman’s voice was soft, yet there was an undercurrent of power and an almost hypnotic quality to it. “We have much in common you and I. Our lands are too close together for us to be at odds with one another. We must have peace you and I.”

Théoden stared blankly up at the wizard for a moment and then seemed to shake himself awake. He glanced briefly at Gandalf who stood leaning on his staff, watching him intently, before he glared back up at Saruman. "Much in common?" his harsh voice broke the spell that had been cast by the wizard. "We have nothing in common," he spat out bitterly. "You have killed my people all across the Westfold; your uruks and orcs burning and hacking them to death. No, we shall have no peace, Saruman."

"You are a fool," Saruman hissed, his voice angry, but then he seemed to rein himself in. "It was a misunderstanding and we can overcome that. Cannot two wise people such as ourselves work together for the good of all of our people?"

Éomer laughed, "Our people? What people do you have? Orcs and uruks, if any survive, are not people!"

"Be silent, Éomer son of Éomund. It is not for you to speak in your lord's stead." Éomer grinned at Aragorn but fell silent.

"But it is true, nonetheless, Saruman," Théoden said. "You have no people, only evil creatures and those you hire. No, I will not treat with you and there shall be no peace between us."

Thomas could see the wizard glaring at Théoden with anger and he wondered why Gandalf had not said anything yet. He thought the point of all of this was to get Saruman out of the tower, so that they could go back to Helm's Deep and then move on to wherever they were going next. Yet, Gandalf was just watching and listening as the conversation was taking place between the wizard and the king, though Thomas knew Gandalf always had his own plans. He glanced at Rebecca as she took his hand and he shrugged slightly.

The small movement served to draw Saruman's attention and he turned his gaze on Rebecca and Thomas. "So these are the ones who have come, Mithrandir," he laughed low before his voice turned smooth and enticing. "Will you not come up young ones? There is much I would show you and that you could learn from me."

Rebecca ducked her head under his regard and shook herself to try and get his voice from her mind as she felt herself drawn to go to him. She was only partially successful and opened her mouth to respond when she remembered Gandalf's words of warning. Raising her head, she looked at Gandalf begging silently for help and found him looking at her steadily with his kind, blue eyes. She took a deep breath and kept her gaze fixed on him, now able to set aside the words of Saruman.

Thomas shifted nervously on the rock and gripped Rebecca's hand tightly as he stared up at the wizard, wondering what he was talking about; what he could possibly show them or teach them. He was very concerned that Saruman even seemed to know who they were. Struggling not to ask the questions that he had inside of him, he finally lowered his gaze to Aragorn and gave him a questioning look. Aragorn shook his head minutely with a frown and Thomas stared down at the ground instead.

"Foolish children," Saruman hissed. "Know that your purpose here will fail." Both of them jerked their heads up and stared at him. "What help and comfort you were meant to bring will only result in anguish and death and loss," he sneered. Rebecca and Thomas looked at each other in horror and Rebecca felt Pippin take her hand and squeeze it tightly.

"Be silent, Saruman," Gandalf commanded. "You have no authority or power over these two." He gazed up at the wizard for a moment before continuing. "Will you leave this tower and be free, Saruman?"

"Free? You will kill me if I leave this place," Saruman said with a bitter laugh and he moved away from the window.

"Stay, Saruman," Gandalf ordered, "we are not yet finished." The wizard turned back reluctantly. "You truly would be free to go, though you would have to leave your staff and the keys to Orthanc behind."

Saruman shook his head, "You just want Orthanc for yourself, Mithrandir! I will not leave."

"Then you leave me no choice," Gandalf sighed. "Saruman, your staff is broken." With a piercing wail, Saruman dropped his staff as it suddenly shattered into tiny pieces that landed scattered around his feet. "You may leave," Gandalf dismissed him. As Saruman left the window, something fell from above, struck a glancing blow off the rail and then headed down towards the men on the stairs. It bounced down the stairs and as it rolled toward a pool of water, Pippin ran and picked it up.

Aragorn turned to look at Thomas and Rebecca as soon as Saruman had disappeared from view, though he ducked back quickly as the object fell from above. Seeing their scared, bewildered expressions he grabbed Legolas's arm and hurried towards them, even as he noticed Gandalf approaching Pippin and wresting a round object from him and hiding it in his cloak. He knelt down in front of them and placed a hand on their knees, while Legolas slipped around behind them and put a hand on their shoulders. "Look at me," Aragorn said softly and he waited until first Rebecca's and then Thomas's frightened eyes met his. "Be at peace, he has no power over you," his voice was calm and reassuring and they both breathed a little easier, but it did nothing to answer their questions.

Grabbing his hand, Rebecca asked in a voice filled with confusion and stress, "What did he mean, Aragorn?"

"How did he know who we are? We don't even look that different anymore, Aragorn," Thomas asked at the same time, as he fingered his hair that was almost shoulder length now.

"I cannot answer either of those questions, but I know he does not have power to control you. You saw him come at Gandalf's command and his staff broken. He lies, he deceives, and his whole purpose is to get you to start doubting and questioning yourself. Did you hear when he spoke with Théoden and how he tried to twist things around?" They both nodded. "That is what he tried to do with you as well."

Thomas looked at him for a long moment before he asked the question that was burning in his heart, "If-if he knows who we are, do you think he might know how we could get home?" he whispered. Rebecca looked hopefully at Aragorn who pursed his lips in thought for a moment. "I know not, Thomas."

"He does not, Thomas." All of them looked up at the sound of Gandalf's voice as he gazed down at Rebecca and Thomas with compassion. "As I told you earlier, much of his power comes from his voice and he used that against you. You cannot worry about things that are out of your control. You can only do the best
d her to where Aragorn was caring for Hasufel. He glanced at Éomer briefly before turning to Rebecca.

"Your bedroll is there," he said, pointing to it. "Will you also take that blanket to Merry and Pippin? They forgot it in their excitement when I returned their swords to them." Rebecca nodded, gathered the blankets and left without a word, though she had a puzzled expression on her face.

Aragorn watched her for a moment before looking at Éomer.

"I will not hurt her, Aragorn," he said quietly.

"No, not intentionally, but she loves another."

"I cannot help my feelings towards her," Éomer said in frustration. "Have I acted improperly or been other than kind towards her?"

Aragorn shook his head and sighed, "No, Éomer you have not. But there are other... factors that you are not aware of."

"So I gathered from what Saruman said. Will you not tell me?"

"I cannot, at least not now. Rebecca is my ward, Éomer and I would not see her hurt. I know she sees you as a friend, just be careful with her heart."

"Always," he whispered before turning and striding off.

-----

A scream shattered the stillness of the night and people leapt from their bedrolls to discover the source. Aragorn and Legolas found Pippin staring blankly into the night sky, the palantir lying beside him. Gandalf roughly pushed them aside and spoke to Pippin while everyone stood around and watched in horror.

"Pippin! Pippin, come back!"

Pippin blinked and breathed in deeply. He stared at Gandalf, his eyes full of tears and remorse. "Forgive me, Gandalf. I-I had to hold it, I had to see..."

"Hush child, I forgive you. But tell me what you saw."

"I saw... I saw a tower, evil and black. I-I saw fire and burning and... and the eye, Gandalf," he whispered. "He asked what I was and I told him I was a hobbit." Pippin screwed his eyes shut.

Gandalf patted his arm and helped him to his feet, "Go with Merry now and calm yourself, Pippin." Gandalf looked at the others for a moment, "Rebecca you bring Pippin comfort as well, go along with them." Rebecca nodded and hurried after the hobbits, leaving a surprised Thomas behind wondering why he had not been sent away as usual.

Gandalf spoke quickly, "I fear I must leave you now, Théoden King. The enemy will assume that Saruman has the Ringbearer and will quickly come for him. I will make haste for Minas Tirith. My counsel is for you to muster your men at Dunharrow as quickly as possible." Théoden nodded. "War is coming to Gondor and Sauron must be stopped there or else it will quickly spread to here as well."

A great shadow covered the moon and most of the men ducked down under the evil presence it brought. Looking up, Thomas saw one of the winged creatures such as the one he had seen on the river days ago. It swiftly and silently passed headed towards Isengard.

"We must hasten. Aragorn, I give this to you," Gandalf handed him the now wrapped palantir. "I would counsel you not to use it, except in direst need."

"I will take it into my keeping as it is mine by birthright," Aragorn said with a grim smile. "Though it is not a burden I take lightly."

"I will take Pippin with me to Minas Tirith that he not succumb to temptation again."

The men scattered to gather their things and to prepare their horses. Gandalf whistled for Shadowfax and waited for Pippin to say good-bye. As he said good-bye to Merry, Rebecca slowly approached the wizard. "I will miss you," she said looking at him tearfully.

"And I you, young lady. Have courage and do not give into your fears in the days ahead."

She gave him a shaky smile, "I'll try not to," she replied before turning to say good-bye to Pippin. Their farewell was brief, and consisted of tears, hugs and forced laughter as both tried to cheer each other up. Then Gandalf and Pippin were gone and Merry and Rebecca were staring after them, holding hands in an effort to comfort one another.

Aragorn and Thomas led their horses to them and they all silently mounted and the company headed once more into the night. Several hours before dawn, they crossed the Isen River and one of the rear guards come galloping up to Théoden.

"Riders approach from behind, my lord."

Théoden halted the column, "How many?" he demanded.

"Around thirty, my lord."

"Éomer, ride back and make a defensive line."

Éomer wheeled around and did as ordered, placing his men in a defensive shield with himself, Aragorn, and Legolas slightly in front. Théoden, Rebecca, and Thomas, because of his injury, were behind the shield. Merry sat now with Théoden in the event they had to make a sudden retreat.

Soon all could hear the sound of the approaching horses. Éomer waited for them to draw closer before yelling out commandingly, "Halt! Who dares ride in the Riddermark without leave of Théoden King?"

The unknown riders pulled to an abrupt stop and one dismounted, moving cautiously forward. "Is this Rohan?"

"It is. You entered it when you crossed the river. Speak, who are you?" Éomer demanded harshly.

"I am seeking one called Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I am his kinsman, Hal..."

Aragorn leapt from his horse, "Halbarad!"


TBC...

Mellon nín - my friend
Adar - Father
Naneth - mother


Chapter 20 - Darkness

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

In Aragorn’s Safekeeping

Name Change: In Aragorn’s Safekeeping. I have not liked the name I picked for this story for many months now as it really didn’t reflect what was going on in the story and I just realized that I could, in fact, change it. So the next chapter will be under the new name. I have also been editing some of my earlier chapters and will try to replace some of those and I don’t know if that will send out new author alerts, etc. There are just so many errors that I have to fix them! :)

Author Notes: For those of you that may not know, Aragorn was raised in Rivendell by Elrond after his father was killed (I never thought the movie was clear about that). Elrond loved him and treated him as a son and gave him the name, Estel, to hide him from Sauron. Elrond had twin sons that also lived in Rivendell during the time that Aragorn lived there with his mother. Aragorn did not know that Elrond had a daughter (Arwen) until he was twenty years old as she was living in Lothlórien all of those years with her grandparents; neither Elrond nor the twins had ever mentioned it to him! I suppose twenty years isn’t long if you are immortal. All of this information is taken from the appendix in Return of the King.

Words in [...] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Chapter 20 – Darkness

Rebecca watched in shock as Aragorn raced to the man and embraced him firmly, the joy in his voice obvious for all to hear. Since she had known him, never had she seen such an open display of emotion or affection. While Aragorn would often smile or laugh there was still a certain amount of reserve in his bearing that did not match what Rebecca was observing now. She turned to Thomas, “I wonder who that man is?” she whispered, not wanting Théoden to overhear in case this was someone they should know from their ‘home’ in Rivendell.

“It is his cousin, Halbarad,” Thomas explained quietly into her ear. “He is Aragorn’s only living family member… by blood, I mean.”

Rebecca turned further around in the saddle, “The only one?” He nodded. “How sad,” she murmured, thinking of her family. Besides her mom, she had aunts, uncles and numerous cousins. “No wonder he is so glad to see him.”

“Aragorn told me that they are like brothers, they spent years together as rangers after Aragorn left Rivendell as a young man.”

“I wonder who all the other men are.”

“Rangers, I suppose,” Thomas shrugged. “Do you think we should go and greet them too?” he asked, noticing Legolas and Gimli had ridden forward. “I mean shouldn’t we know Halbarad?”

“I guess so,” Rebecca said uncertainly.

Curious to meet Halbarad, Thomas decided to go ahead. Looking at Théoden he bowed slightly, “Excuse us, my lord,” and he nudged Baldor forward. Éomer glanced at them as they passed through the lines of the Rohirrim.

“Who are those men, Lady Rebecca?”

“Halbarad is Aragorn’s cousin and the rest appear to be some of his rangers.”

“Rangers… they will be most useful if they fight anything like Aragorn.”

“I haven’t actually seen them, but I have heard they are fierce fighters.” Thomas said, urging Baldor on, not wanting to continue a discussion with Éomer about the rangers that neither he nor Rebecca knew anything about.

Thomas could feel eyes on them as soon as they moved beyond Éomer and he knew their every movement was being closely observed. He reined to a halt near Arod and slipped from the horse before helping Rebecca dismount. “How’s your back?” he asked as he heard her quickly stifled gasp.

“It’s been better. How’s your head?”

“Sore.”

“We make a good couple then,” she grinned.

Thomas smiled and led her around the horse, pausing uncertainly when he saw that Aragorn’s back was to them and again feeling the scrutiny of the men on horseback.

“Those must be Aragorn’s elven brothers,” Rebecca whispered, seeing two tall elves standing with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli and another man. Thomas nodded and then they both froze as two identical sets of sparkling light grey eyes fell on them. Aragorn turned then and seeing them, beckoned them forward.

Rebecca saw that the elven twins were several inches taller than Aragorn and had long dark hair, some of which was pulled back in intricate braids to keep it out of their faces, though the braids were a different style than Legolas’s. They wore long grey cloaks that matched the ones the men on the horses were wearing including a star brooch that fastened it closed.

Aragorn smiled down at Rebecca as she stopped next to him before he glanced at Thomas who cleared his throat nervously. “We didn’t know if… um we should come since maybe we should know these… people too. I thought Théoden or Éomer might think it strange if we didn’t since we are supposed to be from Rivendell…” Twin eyebrows shot up at that. “…after all…”

“Peace, Thomas,” Aragorn said. “It was well thought of and I would have you meet my family in any case.” Thomas visibly relaxed much to Aragorn’s amusement.

“Estel, what does he mean they are from Rivendell? I believe I would remember seeing them before,” one of the elves said with both curiosity and amusement in his voice.

“Rebecca and Thomas are my wards, Elrohir, and as such the people of Rohan were told they were from Rivendell. It seemed the easiest explanation at the time as they are dressed in elvish clothing and carry elvish weapons.”

As Aragorn was speaking, Rebecca was studying Halbarad. He was a little shorter than Aragorn and his hair had some grey in it, but otherwise they looked very similar. She noticed that while he was standing perfectly still with his hand gripping the pommel of his sword, his bluish grey eyes were constantly moving and searching the area for danger. Rebecca’s attention was drawn back to the conversation when the other elf-lord spoke.

“Wards? Estel, how are they your wards? Where do they come from?” he asked sharply.

Rebecca, who had not quailed at Helm’s Deep, who had overcome her discomfort of both Legolas and Haldir, involuntarily took a step back under the fierce intensity of Elladan’s gaze. While Thomas did not physically move, he reacted by dropping his gaze to the ground.

“Elladan,” Aragorn chided, giving his brother a stern look, “it is enough for you to know that Thomas,” he reached over and clasped his shoulder briefly, “son of Morgan is my ward. And, Rebecca,” he placed his arm around her back to move her forward once again. She hissed in pain, “That hurts, Aragorn,” she whispered, glancing up at him from the corner of her eye. Aragorn quickly removed his arm, “Forgive me, Rebecca. Are you in much pain?”

“No, only if someone touches me.”

Aragorn’s lips twitched in amusement and he looked back at his brothers who were watching the interaction with expressions of confusion. “Rebecca is also my ward. I will tell you the whole story when we have time, but that is not now. Thomas, Rebecca, now that you have met my brothers, I want you to meet my cousin, Halbarad son of Halhigil.”

“Well met, my lord,” Thomas said with a bow, Rebecca echoing his words and actions.

“Lady, Thomas,” Halbarad nodded as he looked them over. “I am no lord, the only lords here are Aragorn and Prince Legolas,” he said glancing at the twins before resuming his watch.

Legolas laughed quietly while Rebecca and Thomas just looked at him in confusion, glancing at Aragorn to see laughter in his eyes as well.

Shaking his head, Aragorn called to one of his rangers, “Hinluin, will you bring Roheryn up for me?”

“Yes, my lord,” the man rode to the back of the column.

“Lady Rebecca, I would ask your forgiveness for I obviously frightened you,” Elladan said, bowing slightly.

“Elladan often frightens young maidens,” Elrohir smiled at Rebecca.

Rebecca looked from one twin to the other wondering how she would ever be able to tell them apart since they were, in fact, identical in every way that she could see. Though from the slight smile on Elrohir’s face she thought maybe they would act a little differently.

“Of course, Lord Elladan,” she replied, briefly meeting his stern grey eyes before glancing away again.

“Rebecca, Halbarad brought my horse with the rangers. Do you think you can handle Hasufel by yourself?” Aragorn asked.

“I think so… yes, of course.”

“I want you to stay close to Legolas, Thomas or myself, we have a long way yet to ride.”

Halbarad spoke up quietly, “I will also be nearby, my lord.”

Aragorn nodded, “You will find, Thomas and Rebecca, that Halbarad rarely leaves my side. It was difficult for him to let me leave on this journey without him. Thomas, go and help Rebecca adjust the stirrups on Hasufel so that we may depart.”

“All right, Aragorn… my lord,” he finished, thinking it best to call him that now in front of his rangers, especially as his own cousin did.

“It is still Aragorn, Thomas, though, I have not been able to persuade my cousin otherwise for many years.” Halbarad snorted.

Thomas nodded and he and Rebecca hurried off to prepare Hasufel for her to ride, followed more slowly by Legolas and Gimli. As they left, Aragorn looked at his brothers and Halbarad and spoke quietly so that only they could hear him. “They are totally alone here and I care for them deeply.” He paused as Hinluin handed him the reins to Roheryn and he waited until the man passed out of earshot before continuing. “I would ask that you,” Aragorn gave Elladan a very pointed look, “treat them at least with respect if not the kindness they deserve.”

Halbarad nodded, “Of course, my lord and I shall pass the word on to the men.” He moved off to get his horse.

Elladan stared at Aragorn for a long moment and then nodded once. “I will trust you on this, Estel, and treat them as you ask for your sake. However, I will tell you that I sense something about them that is not ‘right’ and it makes me uneasy.”

Aragorn smiled slightly as he gazed at his oldest brother. “Be at peace about them, Elladan. Both Gandalf and our grandparents know their true stories and are not concerned. We spent over a month in Lothlórien with [Daeradar] and [Daernaneth]; truly you need not worry about Rebecca and Thomas.”

Visibly relieved, Elladan smiled at his brother for the first time, “If they are not concerned than I shall trust in their wisdom.”

Laughing quietly, Elrohir, put his arm around Aragorn’s shoulder, “I, for one, am looking forward to seeing you in this type of fatherly role, Estel.” In a mercurial shift of mood he sobered quickly as he looked down at his brother. “It grieves me that ones so young are without kin and it was right for you to take them into your keeping. Though, I, like Elladan have concerns, I will trust your judgment.”

Nodding to his brothers, Aragorn moved to mount Roheryn, “When you hear the full story you will understand,” he said quietly as he mounted. Aragorn glanced at Halbarad as his brothers went to retrieve their horses. “It will be good to have you riding at my side again, cousin.”

“It has been strange to ride alone.”

“What is that?” Aragorn pointed to a long pole attached along the side of Halbarad’s horse.

“Arwen sent it to you; she said you would know what it is.”

“Oh.” Aragorn looked at it for a moment and then met Halbarad’s eyes. “Yes, I do. Would you keep it for me for now?”

“Of course, I’ve carried if for you for hundreds of miles attached to the side of my saddle interfering with my stirrups and my saddlebags. Why would I mind?”

Aragorn chuckled, “Thank you, I knew you would not.” He looked at Rebecca as she approached noticing that while she looked a little uneasy, she sat well balanced in the saddle and gripped the reins well. “How does it feel?” he inquired.

“Scary,” she said with a yawn. “It’s a long way down.”

“You will do well.”

“Easy for you to say,” she said, giving him an irritated glare. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Never?” Halbarad looked at her with concern.

Rebecca shook her head, “Not by myself.”

“She usually rides with me or Aragorn,” Thomas said.

“Yes, but I have let you handle Hasufel many times as we rode. You will do fine,” Aragorn looked at her steadily until she nodded.

“I’m sure I will, but I’m blaming you if I fall off.”

Quiet chuckles and grins broke out among the men and Rebecca bit her lip nervously as she glanced at Aragorn, but he just smiled faintly. She reminded herself that she would need to be more cautious with what she said in front of his men.

Urging their horses forward they headed to where Théoden, Éomer and their men had been patiently waiting.

“Théoden King, Lord Éomer, these are my brothers the lords Elladan and Elrohir and my cousin Halbarad,” Aragorn said.

“Welcome to Rohan, my lords,” Théoden nodded to the three.

“Thank you Théoden King,” Elladan replied with a bow, followed by Elrohir and Halbarad.

Elrohir looked at Merry with a smile. “Master Merry, it is good to see you once again. It appears that many tales must be told since last we met.”

“Just a few, Lord Elrohir,” Merry smiled wanly, “I’ve about had my fill of adventure for a good long while.”

As they continued to talk, Éomer sidled his horse over next to Rebecca. “You are riding alone?” he asked quietly, his voice full of concern.

“Yes Éomer. The rangers brought Aragorn his horse and he thought I should ride Hasufel,” she patted the horse’s neck.

“But you have no experience,” he protested.

“I’ll be fine,” she yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, “if I can stay awake that is.” Rebecca smiled at Éomer. “Really, I’ll be all right.”

“I fear for your safety, Lady Rebecca.”

“Everyone else does too,” she gestured around them.

“Yes, of course they do,” Éomer said. “Well, I shall be nearby if you need help.”

Rebecca giggled. “I have already been told to stay close to,” she held up her hand and ticked them off on her fingers one by one, “Aragorn, Legolas, Thomas, or Halbarad… I guess I can add you to the list…” she wiggled her thumb, “… I have one finger left.” She smiled again.

Éomer grinned and shook his head, “I see you are well taken care of then, Lady Rebecca. But I will be here nonetheless.” He bowed slightly and rode off to take his place beside his king as they prepared to complete their interrupted ride to Helm’s Deep.

0-0-0-0-0

As they rode up the causeway into the courtyard of Helm’s Deep at mid-morning, Rebecca was totally and utterly exhausted. Glancing around her she saw that she was not alone, that Thomas and all of the Rohirrim looked to be in the same state she was in, while Merry and Gimli were both asleep leaning against Théoden and Legolas, respectively. Only the rangers seemed alert as they gazed around the fortress curiously.

Reining to a halt, Rebecca carefully dismounted, wincing as she landed and wishing once again that Hasufel was not such a tall horse. She leaned against him for a moment to catch her breath and then looked up uncertainly at her packs, bedroll and quiver which Aragorn had always taken care of. Looking around she saw that he was talking with Théoden and Éomer. Well, if she could reach the things and if he hadn’t tied them too tightly she would just do it herself. Wrapping Hasufel’s reins around her arm, Rebecca stood on her tiptoes and worked to unfasten the leather ties holding her bedroll in place. Reaching and stretching caused her pain, but she ignored it except for a few small gasps. Finally freeing the bedroll she stepped back and looked at it with a frown and a sigh wondering if it was worth the pain or if she should just ask someone for help.

“Are you well, lady? Do you need help?”

Startled, Rebecca looked up into the guarded, yet not unkind, eyes of Halbarad. In the light of day she could more clearly see his resemblance to Aragorn and also the subtle differences. “Oh, I guess I could use some help,” she said. “I can’t quite reach…” Even as she spoke, Halbarad began removing both Aragorn’s and her things from the horse and setting them on the ground. As he started to place her quiver and bow down she said, “I’ll take that.” He looked at her intently as he handed it to her and then silently continued unpacking the horse. “Thanks,” she said as he finished.

He nodded and then asked, “Is that your bow?”

“Yes,” she said, caressing the bow with her hand, “it was given to me in Lothlórien.”

“Can you use it?” His piecing gaze suddenly reminded her just how closely he was related to Aragorn.

“It wouldn’t do much good to just carry it, would it?” She hurried on at his frown, “Yes, Halbarad, I can use it.”

“And she uses it very well, cousin.” Rebecca turned around and gave Aragorn a smile before dropping her gaze on seeing Elladan and Elrohir standing behind him. Aragorn took Hasufel’s reins from her and gave them to a passing ranger who led the horse away. “I told you that you would do well riding, Rebecca.”

“It was an interesting experience, Aragorn,” she replied, glancing at Thomas, Legolas and Gimli as they approached. “I almost fell off once, but only because I was almost asleep.”

Aragorn smiled faintly, “That is why I am sending you and Thomas off to get some rest. We will be riding out again late this afternoon.”

“Is there a reason that we keep riding at night, Aragorn?” she asked.

“Time is pressing us, Rebecca. I have some things I must see to with Halbarad and I want you two to go and eat and then rest. Thomas, I have asked my brothers to remove those stitches in your arm and to check your other wounds.” Thomas glanced quickly at the elves, but they just gazed back at him impassively. “They are better healers than I am, Thomas.” Thomas nodded. Aragorn turned to Rebecca who looked at him with wide frightened eyes. Ignoring her unspoken pleas, he said, “Make sure you remove that bandage before you rest.” He smiled inwardly at her sigh of relief.

Trailing after the others, Rebecca and Thomas walked hand in hand into the Keep quietly discussing how much better the place looked after only two days. There were many women and children around who seemed to be helping with the wounded who lined the hallways. They ate a quick meal standing or leaning against the walls outside the room where they had slept before. None of them particularly felt like sitting down after a long night on horseback. Thomas and Rebecca listened as the three elves talked of things they had no knowledge of; their homes in Mirkwood and Imladris, or events from years past, or people that they knew. Rebecca noticed that Elrohir was indeed more light-hearted than his brother, but she could also see that Elladan did have a softer side as well. It just hadn’t been directed at them.

Finishing her food, Rebecca bent down to gather her things frowning at the pain it caused and wondering how long it would take before it would heal. Straightening, she found the twins studying her intently, but she quickly looked at Thomas. “I’m going to bed now. Good-night or good-morning... or good sleep,” she smiled. Thomas took her hand and drew her into a gentle embrace, kissing her longingly, “I wish we could have some time alone,” he murmured.

Elrohir’s eyebrows shot up, “You are not brother and sister as I had assumed,” he said.

Legolas and Gimli laughed as Thomas and Rebecca broke apart looking guilty and both of them turned crimson. “No, Elrohir, they are definitely not brother and sister,” Legolas said. “Go and rest Lady Rebecca.” Rebecca nodded and entered the room, still blushing.

After stripping off his tunic, hauberk, and shirt, Thomas sank to the floor with a weary sigh leaning his head back against the wall as he waited for the twins to finish tending to Gimli. “Legolas,” he asked, opening one eye and looking up at his friend, “where are we going next? Back to Edoras?”

Legolas crouched down beside him, “I know not, mellon nín, I believe that is one of the things Aragorn is trying to decide.”

Thomas touched his bandaged face gingerly. “Do you think I should get another helm? I’m not sure I could wear one right now, but… well I’ll probably need one wherever we go.”

“I will find one as you rest.”

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“I slept the other night,” Legolas smiled.

“Must be nice,” Thomas yawned.

“It just is. I will leave you with Lords Elladan and Elrohir and return after you have rested.”

Thomas turned weary, wary eyes on Elladan and Elrohir as Legolas strode away, but saw only compassion in their faces.

“I will remove his stitches, Elladan, if you will check his face and hands.”

Nodding, Elladan picked up Thomas’s right hand while Elrohir moved to his left side and took off the bandage on his upper arm.

“This was a severe wound, Thomas,” Elrohir remarked as he pulled out a small knife and cleaned it thoroughly. Before he started cutting the stitches the elf placed his hand on the wound and closed his eyes briefly. Thomas felt a warm tingling sensation and as Elrohir started cutting and pulling the stitches there was no pain.

“What did you do?” Thomas whispered.

“It is a healing gift that some elves possess,” Elrohir explained. “Mine is slightly different than my brother’s or my [adar’s].”

Thomas stared at him. “Lady Galadriel healed Rebecca’s wrist like that,” he remembered.

“[Daernaneth’s] gift is… unique, Thomas,” Elrohir shared a look with his brother that Thomas couldn’t read. He finished removing the stitches and lightly wrapped it. “Keep this on for another few days to protect it.”

Thomas sighed quietly as he looked at his hands and wrists with the numerous cuts and stitches. He flexed his right hand gingerly hoping he would be able to wield a sword when the time came.

“Is something amiss, Thomas?” Elladan inquired, looking at him with concern in his unfathomable star-flecked grey eyes.

“No… not really. But I’m worried about gripping my sword with my hand like this. I was having a hard time just holding the reins with the way my hands were bandaged,” he admitted, glancing away.

Elladan nodded as he resumed checking the stitches on Thomas’s face. “I will make sure it is done to your satisfaction. Your face is healing properly; Estel has done well.” He placed his hands lightly over the wound and spoke quietly under his breath and again Thomas felt warmth flood through him. Elladan took his hands and repeated the procedure. “That will hasten the closing of the wounds and lessen the scarring.” He quickly re-bandaged Thomas’s face before turning to his hands. After several attempts Elladan found a way to cover all of the cuts and still give Thomas the flexibility he required.

“You must make sure,” Elladan grabbed his forearm and hauled him to his feet. Thomas pulled his sword and tested his grip and decided that the new bandaging would work well even though his hands were still sore and tender. “Thank you, Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir, this feels much better,” he said giving the elves a grateful smile as he sheathed his sword.

“You are most welcome, Thomas,” Elrohir replied gazing at the young man with his head tilted questioningly. “What is causing Rebecca’s back pain?”

Thomas just looked at Elrohir for a moment and then shook his head, “I don’t know why I should be surprised anymore when an elf knows something like that.” He leaned wearily against the wall. He thought for a moment, but could think of no reason not to tell them. “Her back was very badly bruised during the battle the other night.”

“She fought in the battle?” Elladan asked looking at Thomas in disbelief.

“Yes, Lord Elladan, she did and when she ran out of arrows, she came in here and helped with the wounded,” Thomas replied, struggling not to yawn.

“Rebecca’s very good with a bow,” Gimli spoke up from where he had been dozing on the floor.

“Thomas! Why are you not sleeping?” Aragorn’s unaccountably harsh voice caught all of them off guard and the four of them turned to see an ashen faced Aragorn approaching with Halbarad hovering at his elbow and Legolas trailing behind.

“I was... um… talking to your brothers about Rebecca. I’ll go right now,” Thomas nodded to Aragorn and tried to move away.

Aragorn grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “Knowing my brothers, they were probably seeking information that I told them I would give them later,” he said, glaring at his brothers. “How do you feel?”

“Good, Aragorn and Lord Elladan adjusted my bandages so that my hand can grip things better,” he paused uncertainly, glancing between Aragorn and Halbarad. “Are you all right, Aragorn? You look a little...” his voice trailed off and he finally shrugged.

“Yes, Estel what has happened?” Elrohir asked in a voice full of concern.

“I used the palantir and it was more… difficult than I had anticipated.”

“The palantir! But Gandalf said that it shouldn’t…” Thomas stopped in confusion and at the look on Aragorn’s face.

“I know what Gandalf said, Thomas, but the palantir is mine by birthright and I judged that it should be used,” Aragorn said sternly. “I give heed to his counsel, but there are times when a man has to follow his own heart and counsel.” Thomas nodded though he still looked confused.

“What did you see Aragorn?” Legolas asked.

Aragorn took a long weary breath and rubbed his hand across his eyes. “Sauron. I showed him the re-forged sword and revealed to him that the heir of Isildur yet lives. I was able to wrench the power of the palantir to my will and that will frighten him more than all else. Yet I want to keep his eyes off of his borders, we must do all we can to open a path for Frodo and Sam.”

“It may cause him to strike out against Gondor,” Elladan said moving around behind Aragorn and laying his hands on his brother’s shoulders and singing softly under his breath.

“Thank you Elladan. Yes it may,” he conceded. “But if he strikes before he is fully ready his plans may go astray and that may help us.” Aragorn straightened up slightly, already starting to feel refreshed from Elladan’s ministrations.

“[Adar] sent me with this word for you, Estel,” Elrohir said. “Remember the words of Malbeth the Seer that he spoke in the days of Arvedui, last king at Fornost:

Over the land there lies a long shadow,
westward reaching winds of darkness.
The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kings
doom approaches. The Dead awaken;
for the hour is come for the oathbreakers:
at the Stone of Erech they shall stand again
and hear there a horn in the hills ringing.
Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them
from the grew twilight, the forgotten people?
The heir of him to whom the oath they swore.
From the North shall he come, need shall drive him:
He shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.***

Aragorn looked at his brother long and hard and then nodded, “I have been considering that. It is good to hear his counsel on taking such a perilous road.”

“Do I want to know what the Paths of the Dead are?” Thomas asked looking from Aragorn to Elrohir.

“Probably not, Thomas,” Aragorn gave him a very small smile. A smile Thomas remembered later as it was the last smile he saw from Aragorn for a very long time. “It is, as the name suggests, a haunted place where it is said the ghosts of men dwell who gave an oath to Isildur to fight against Sauron in the Last Alliance. They broke their word and Isildur cursed them never to rest until they fulfilled their oath. As his heir I have the right to call them to me, but…” he sighed and stared at the floor for a moment before looking back up at Thomas and the others, “… having the right and actually going to such an evil place are two different things. Yet I fear we have no other choice, we must have the help if we are going to prevail in this war.” He nodded abruptly, his decision made. “That is our path then, though it will not be an easy one.”

“When has your path ever been easy, Estel?” Elladan asked, patting him on the shoulder as he stepped away.

“Get some rest now, Thomas,” Aragorn pushed him towards Gimli, “and take the dwarf with you.” He watched Thomas help Gimli into the room they were all sharing before turning to his brothers. “I know we are pressed for time, but I do want to tell you about Rebecca and Thomas before we leave,” he said as he headed back down the corridor aiming for the small room where he had tended to Thomas and Rebecca.

“We did discover they are not related,” Elrohir said with a mischievous grin.

“Oh?”

“A kiss they shared was a little too intimate for a brother and a sister, Estel,” he said dryly.

Aragorn shook his head as he chuckled quietly, “I imagine so, though I am surprised they kissed in front of you at all. They are usually much more discreet.”

As they sat around the table, Aragorn looked at Halbarad and his brothers and took a deep breath. “No one in Rohan knows the truth about Rebecca and Thomas; Gandalf did not think it wise. Many of the Lothlórien elves know as well as everyone in the Fellowship, they were there when we found them.” Aragorn rubbed his hand across his face and through his hair, realizing this was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. “I know this will sound strange,” he and Legolas exchanged glances, “but I want you to just listen and then ask Legolas and I questions when I am finished. All right?”

Halbarad and the twins nodded though their expressions showed confusion and concern.

With a last look at Legolas, Aragorn plunged into the story of how they had found Rebecca and Thomas. He gave his brothers and cousin detailed descriptions about their clothing, hair, injuries, and their total lack of knowledge of anything to do with Middle Earth. He described what they had told the Fellowship of their world and how he and the others had realized they came from another place entirely. How in Lothlórien he had decided to make them his wards since they truly had no one else. Aragorn finished by quickly telling them all of the things that had happened since then, including Rebecca saving him and Éomer during the battle and Thomas saving Gimli.

Stunned silence hung in the room as Aragorn finished. Legolas gave him a small smile as he closely watched his brothers and Halbarad try and process all that he had told them.

“Why?” Halbarad finally asked.

“Why are they here?”

Halbarad nodded.

“I know not and neither do Gandalf or Galadriel. They do believe the Valar have some purpose in sending them.”

“Rebecca did save your life, Aragorn,” Legolas pointed out.

“Yes and Éomer’s and Thomas saved Gimli’s,” Aragorn acknowledged. “That could be their sole purpose. Or it may be that Rebecca is here because she was needed to save one of the wounded men of Rohan. Or perhaps it could be as simple as the fact that one or both of them can, at times, make any one of us smile or laugh, even in the midst of this horror. Though they can also be quite vexing as well,” He and Legolas smiled briefly. “Gandalf, Legolas, and I have had this discussion many times and we have no answers. I do not pretend to understand the ways of the Valar and the things they choose to do.”

“I understand now why they do not feel ‘right’ to me,” Elladan said as he gazed thoughtfully at his brother. “There was no sign of how they got to our world?”

Aragorn shook his head.

“Will they be able to go back home?” Elrohir asked with a look of concern.

“There is no answer to that question, Elrohir,” Legolas replied, “We do not know how they got here. It is another question that Aragorn, Gandalf and I have pondered.”

“So they may be your wards for some time,” Elladan said.

Aragorn shrugged, “Yes, though it will depend on how the war ends,” he said wryly. He paused to wait for more questions, but none were forthcoming. “I cannot believe none of you have any more questions about them.”

Elladan reached out and grasped Aragorn’s hand that was lying on the table. “Estel, [muindor nín], I have known you for eighty-six years and never have I known you to lie. I am absolutely intrigued by these two young people and their purpose here. Any questions and thoughts I have right now are directed at finding out more about them and their world.”

Aragorn stared at his serious older brother for a moment and then glanced at Elrohir who said quietly, “I agree with Elladan, Estel. My heart aches for the pain these two young ones must feel so far from their homes and families.”

“It has been difficult for them,” Legolas said. “They are fortunate they have had each other.”

Aragorn turned his eyes to Halbarad, who he knew as a man would have the hardest time accepting this story. Halbarad just returned his gaze steadily and shrugged his shoulders. “I believe you, my lord. If anyone else had told such a tale, I wouldn’t have. But it being you, Legolas, Gandalf, and such, I believe it.”

“Just remember then that sometimes they say things that sound a little different or they act a little different than what you would expect from young ones from our world,” Aragorn glanced at Legolas who nodded with a smile. “Now then, I do not think we will be able to wait for Théoden and his men, we will need to leave sooner.”

“When?” Halbarad asked.

Aragorn hesitated, thinking of the horses and the men that needed rest as opposed to their very real need to quickly move on. “Four hours. That should get us to Dunharrow not too long after nightfall and we can leave before dawn. We have to make it through and to Erech before midnight tomorrow.”

“I’ll tell the men,” Halbarad said as he stood and stretched.

“After you tell them I want you to get some sleep, Halbarad.” Aragorn stopped his protests by saying, “I am going to rest as soon as I talk to Théoden and Merry.”

Halbarad nodded stiffly and left the room grumbling under his breath.

“You are leaving Merry behind?” Legolas asked.

“Yes, there is no choice,” Aragorn replied as he stood. “I believe that Théoden will be willing to take him to Edoras and keep him safe.” He paused, “Will you find some more arrows for Rebecca?” Aragorn frowned slightly, “I fear she will need them.”

“I will find some.”

Aragorn nodded his thanks and left the room in search of Théoden and Merry. He found them sitting in the Great Hall of the Keep talking quietly and they looked up at his approach. “Théoden King,” he inclined his head, “Merry,” he placed his hand affectionately on the hobbit’s curly hair for a moment. “May I have a word with you?”

“Sit,” Théoden gestured to the bench next to Merry and Aragorn slowly sat down, thinking once again how best to put into words what he had come to say. Aragorn nodded at Éomer as he joined them with a grin, plunking down a mug of ale and a plate of food and started wolfing it down.

“Théoden, I wanted to let you know that my plans have changed and that I will be leading my rangers on a different path to Minas Tirith.” Aragorn watched Théoden’s eyes narrow slightly and saw Éomer pause in his eating to stare intently at him. “I fear that because you must muster your men from all of your lands, it would delay my arrival in time to warn of the dangers I see coming up the Anduin.”

“How will you go then?” Théoden asked sharply. “You have too few men to ride directly to Minas Tirith, it would not be safe.”

Aragorn hesitated briefly. “There is another way that I may take, Théoden King. One that is mine by birthright and though it presents its own dangers it will take us to Pelargir by the quickest route. We shall go to Dunharrow and then through the Paths of the Dead.” He placed his hand comfortingly on Merry’s shoulder at his sharp indrawn breath before looking up to meet the unbelieving eyes of Théoden and Éomer.

“You will throw your life away on such a foolish venture?” Théoden asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I do not believe it to be foolish, Théoden. You know who I am and the dead swore an oath to my forefather, Isildur. They cannot rest until they have fulfilled that oath, they will answer to me and let us pass.” Aragorn looked stern and resolute.

“Will you take all of your company with you?” Éomer asked.

“Yes, though I did want to ask if Merry could ride with you to Edoras and be kept in a place of safety.” Merry made a noise of protest and Aragorn looked down at him in sorrow. “I am sorry, Merry, but we will ride hard and fast across southern Gondor and you cannot ride one of our horses. Besides, I heard that you have sworn allegiance to Théoden King, did you not?” Merry nodded miserably. “Then it is best you stay with him.” Aragorn looked at Théoden questioningly and the king nodded his assent.

“I had hoped to draw swords with you again my brother,” Éomer said, his face a blank mask. “You and I could have beaten back the foes of Mordor and now my heart quails at the thought of riding into this battle without you at my side.”

“Éomer, we shall meet on that battlefield and crush the enemy between us. As I said the other night, do not give into despair. The enemy shall not prevail in this fight. This is my destiny, as yours is to lead your men to attack from the western side of the city, I must fight from the river. We shall see each other again, Éomer,” Aragorn stood and clapped him bracingly on the back.

Éomer looked up at him searchingly for a moment and then gave him a small grin, “May it be so then and if you do not show up, know that I will hunt you down.” He stood and clasped Aragorn’s hand and forearm in a warrior’s handshake. “Be well, Aragorn.”

“And you, Éomer.” Aragorn turned to Théoden, “Excuse me, my lord, but I shall go and rest now.” The king nodded in dismissal clearly displeased by the whole idea. Aragorn crouched down by the hobbit, “Merry, the others are sleeping already, but I know they will say good-bye to you before we leave.”

Merry sniffed and kept his head bowed, “All right, Aragorn,” he said in a very low voice. “And I do understand. I just hate to be left behind as if I were a discarded shoe.”

“I know, Merry,” Aragorn rubbed his back soothingly. “You know that I do not feel that way about you and I only leave you because I care for you and would not see you hurt.”

Merry nodded and looked at Aragorn with a weak smile, “Go and rest, Aragorn. I know you won’t get much later; you need to take it while you can.”

“I shall take your advice, master hobbit, and, if my eyes do not deceive me, I believe you should rest as well,” Aragorn said as he once again laid his hand on the hobbit’s head before silently leaving the hall.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca groaned, this feeling was becoming all too familiar. Someone wanted her to wake up and she knew she had just gone to sleep. Only the voice was different this time, though it was just as insistent.

“Come, Rebecca, it is time to leave and you must wake up.”

“Go away, Aragorn.”

“Do you want us to leave without you?”

“No, no, I’m up, I’m up.” She sat up grimacing at the pain her quick movement had caused. “That wasn’t a nice thing to do, Aragorn,” she complained, reaching around to rub her back.

“While I am sorry for the pain it caused, it was effective.” He smiled inwardly at her scowl. “However before you put your hauberk and tunic on, I am going to have my brothers tend to your back,” he moved toward the door.

“Please, Aragorn,” She grabbed his hand to pull him back. “I’m fine really. They don’t need to see me. They… they scare me, Aragorn,” she whispered.

Aragorn crouched down in front of her, “Rebecca you are not fine. You are still in tremendous pain. We will be riding hard for the next five or six days at least.” Rebecca’s eyes widened as she wondered where they were going. “This is something they can heal so that there is no pain, just like Lady Galadriel did with your wrist.” His eyes softened, “You will not have to remove your shirt.” Rebecca sighed deeply in relief. “Now as to your fear all I can do is remind you that they are my brothers. Also, I have told them and Halbarad the truth about you and Thomas.” Aragorn moved to the door again, “I will return shortly.”

Rebecca stared at the door for a moment and then slowly stood. She packed her few things before sitting again and pulling her boots on. She thought about Aragorn’s words, not about the healing because if they could remove the pain that would be wonderful. But about Elladan and Elrohir being Aragorn’s brothers. Every elf she had met had been kind and trustworthy, though many of them had also been intimidating at first, especially Haldir. However, none had scared her like Elladan had and she wondered why. The more she thought about it she realized it might be because Aragorn had talked about him in such glowing terms that she had pictured him in her mind a certain way and the way he acted when they met was definitely not how she pictured him. Rebecca was so caught up in her thoughts that she did not hear the door open.

“Rebecca?” Aragorn’s amused voice startled her.

“What!” she looked up in alarm seeing him and his brothers standing there. “Do you never knock?” she asked irritably trying desperately to hide her embarrassment.

“I did, I thought you were trying to avoid us,” Aragorn took her hand and pulled her gently to her feet. “We do not have much time.”

“What do I have to do?” she asked looking at Aragorn uncertainly. He shook his head and motioned to his brothers as he stepped back and leaned against the wall.

“Take my hand, Lady Rebecca.” She looked up into the surprisingly kind grey eyes of one of the elf-lords and glanced at the other to see the same expression there. Rebecca took the long slender hand marveling at its softness.

“Are you Lord Elladan or Lord Elrohir?” she whispered.

“Elrohir,” he whispered back with a grin.

“Lady Rebecca,” Elladan said, “I am going to move my hands over your back and either speak or sing depending on what I sense.”

Rebecca nodded and she felt Elladan’s hands moving lightly over her back much as Aragorn’s hands had done two days before. Suddenly he began singing softly as his hands continued to move and Elrohir joined him. It was beautiful music, though not the soothing uplifting music that Brethil and her friends had played for her in Lothlórien. It was a strong commanding song that imparted strength and healing to her back and body. An intense heat spread across her back and she started to stagger, but was held up by Elrohir’s firm grip. The singing slowly changed and became lighter and more refreshing. As the heat slowly faded away Rebecca realized that all of her pain was gone. She moved her shoulders up and down and grinned at Elladan and then at Elrohir. “[Hannon le].”

“You are most welcome,” Elladan said with a soft smile. “I would not see you in pain if I could relieve it.”

Aragorn pushed off the wall, “Rebecca finish dressing and meet us in the courtyard. Thomas has food for you.”

Rebecca was reaching for her hauberk as they departed.

0-0-0-0-0

Riding to Dunharrow was more of the same mind-numbing riding across the plains that the last few days had been. Long stretches of cantering was followed by short periods of walking the horses to rest them. The small company of riders did not stop anywhere along the way to rest themselves.

Rebecca carried her strung bow in her left hand at Legolas’s urging though she wasn’t sure why as there was no why she could use it from a moving horse. If they stopped maybe she could shoot from atop Hasufel; though it would be difficult surrounded as she was by all of these men… elves… males. Rebecca let her mind drift back to their departure from Helm’s Deep. It had been hard to tell Merry good-bye again and many tears had been shed. But it was the good-bye with Éomer that had her puzzled. He had always been friendly and kind to her and today was no exception. Yet there was something… something in his eyes maybe that confused her as he kissed her hand and wished her farewell. She shook her head and sighed softly as they cantered on, setting those thoughts aside for now to think about at another time.

They rode up the steep path to Dunharrow just after dark and Éowyn met them as they dismounted. “Lord Aragorn, why have you come to Dunharrow? The muster is to be held at Edoras.”

“The site of the muster has been changed and it will be here in two days, Lady Éowyn. However, I and my men shall not be here, my road leads me another way. We shall rest here this night and leave before dawn by way of the Paths of the Dead.”

“The Paths of the Dead?” Éowyn exclaimed, looking at him in horror. “But no one who goes that way is ever seen again.”

“Some may venture that way and I am in haste. Our path takes us there,” Aragorn said looking down at her sternly.

Rebecca looked up when Éowyn said Paths of the Dead so loudly. She had not heard anyone mention where they were going past Dunharrow and she had assumed it was straight to Minas Tirith. She turned to Halbarad who was helping her again as Thomas was having a difficult time controlling Baldor who had become extremely agitated, as had several of the horses, as they approached the mountains.

“Halbarad, where are we going? What are the Paths of the Dead?” she whispered. “It doesn’t sound like a place I want to go.”

Halbarad stopped unsaddling Hasufel and looked down at her. “No one does.”

“Then why are we?”

“Lord Aragorn is in a hurry.”

“So… it’s just a shortcut.” At his puzzled look she explained, “A quicker way to get to Minas Tirith.”

“No lady, not just a… shortcut,” he paused, frowning.

“And, what else?” she asked after a moment.

“We need more men.”

“So are there more rangers on the other side of this path? Villages to get more men or what?” Rebecca was getting frustrated by his lack of details.

Halbarad shook his head, “The dead themselves will be Lord Aragorn’s army. At least we hope,” he muttered.

“You mean ghosts? And what do you mean you hope? You don’t know for sure?”

“No, there is only an old prophecy to guide us.”

“But dead people, Halbarad, and ghosts,” Rebecca shuddered. “Why do we risk it?” She glanced around, but Aragorn was still talking with Éowyn.

“I told you why, lady.”

“Yes, I know,” she said impatiently, “but what happens if… if it doesn’t work. We just go through right? And come out on the other side?” Her voice was sounding more and more nervous.

He shook his head as he slowly answered, “No, either the dead come with us or we don’t come out.”

All the color drained from Rebecca’s face and she grabbed Hasufel’s mane to steady herself. “But that’s crazy, Halbarad,” she hissed. “At least at Helm’s Deep we had a chance.”

Halbarad just looked at her quite calmly seemingly unfazed by her outburst. “I will follow my Lord Aragorn… my king wherever he leads. I trust him completely.”

Taken aback by his softly spoken words and determined voice, Rebecca dropped her gaze to the ground and took several deep breaths to compose herself. Raising her eyes to meet his again she found he was staring off into the distance. “I’m sorry, Halbarad,” she whispered. His keen eyes snapped back to hers. “I do trust Aragorn… I trust him with my life too and if this is the way he says we need to go…” she shrugged helplessly. “But I’m scared.”

“All of us will be scared, lady.”

“And yet we will go on anyway… just like we’ve been doing,” she sighed. “You would think I’d be used to it by now.”

Halbarad gave her an unreadable look, “I’m not and I’m much older.”

“How old are you?” Rebecca looked at him curiously.

“Ninety-one and you?”

“Ninety-one! Oh, sorry, I always forget your guys are… Dúnadain and look so much younger than you are. I’m sixteen… though I’ve aged years since I’ve been here.”

He chuckled. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yes, I think so…”

“Good.” Halbarad turned to finish unsaddling Hasufel while Rebecca picked up her packs and left to find Thomas. She found him and the others standing over a small fire watching something cook and talking quietly.

“Something hot to eat! What is it?” she whispered to Thomas as she squeezed in between him and Gimli.

Thomas shrugged, “Some kind of stew Lord Elrohir made.”

“Oh, it’s not for us then, huh?” she lowered her voice even further, mindful of elvish hearing.

“The food is for all to share, Lady Rebecca,” Elrohir said with a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her from across the fire.

Rebecca sighed but smiled as she responded. “Thanks, it’s been awhile since I’ve had something hot to eat.” She leaned wearily against Thomas and he put his arms around her drawing her close. She laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around him with a contented sigh and stared into the flames.

Aragorn and Halbarad joined them as they began to eat and just as they were finishing, Aragorn glanced at Rebecca. “Éowyn has a spare cot in her tent for you to sleep on tonight.”

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest and tell him that she didn’t want to stay with Éowyn that she would rather sleep in the open with her friends, but she shut it when she saw the stern shadowed look on his face. “All right Aragorn. Where is her tent?”

“Gather your things, I’ll take you,” he stood abruptly and Rebecca grabbed her pack and bedroll and with a quiet good-night to everyone followed Aragorn out of the circle of firelight. She struggled to keep up with his long strides as he strode rapidly away without looking back and she wondered what was bothering him as it was not like him to be so unaware of her. Assuming it was concern over the path they were taking made her even more nervous about what the next day would bring.

Reaching a small tent, Aragorn finally looked back and saw Rebecca far behind him and he shook his head in exasperation realizing that he had been so caught up in his thoughts about his earlier discussions with Éowyn that he had not been paying attention to Rebecca. “Forgive me, Rebecca,” he said quietly when she reached him.

“It’s all right, Aragorn,” she paused briefly looking up at him with a concerned expression. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

Startled by the question he placed his hands gently on her shoulders, “No, Rebecca, I am not. I have several other things on my mind this evening though,” his eyes strayed to the tent beside them and then back to her. “Sleep well,” he said kissing her brow gently as he nudged her towards the tent.

“You too, Aragorn,” she said with a furrowed brow as she watched him walk away, bewildered by his actions. Sighing, she turned to the tent and called, “Éowyn?”

Éowyn held the flap open and Rebecca squeezed past her into the dim candlelit tent. She set her pack on the empty cot to the left before turning to look at Éowyn. “Thanks for letting me share your tent,” she tried her best to sound sincere.

Éowyn stared at her and then said, “But you would rather be with your friends, would you not?” Rebecca turned pink as she nodded. “Then why are you here?”

Sitting down on the cot with a weary sigh that turned into a yawn, Rebecca started to remove her boots before she answered. “I didn’t want to argue with Aragorn,” she looked over at Éowyn who was sitting on the cot opposite her. “He seemed… upset about something.” Rebecca saw Éowyn flinch slightly as she said that and wondered why. “But it will be nice to sleep on a cot for one more night.”

“Lord Aragorn’s upset with me.”

“You? Why?” Rebecca couldn’t imagine what Éowyn could possibly have done that would cause Aragorn to be so distracted.

“I pleaded with him to take me with you,” Éowyn stared at the ground, absently pushing her long golden hair behind her ears as she spoke.

“You did what?” Rebecca stared at her in disbelief. “Why would you do that?” she whispered.

Éowyn’s head came up and her eyes were blazing fire as she glared at Rebecca. “I want to fight,” she hissed. “I hate being left behind as if I am useless and weak. I have trained all my life and now when I am needed they ride off without me,” she said, her voice full of pain and bitterness.

Rebecca shook her head and tried to reason with her. “But Éowyn, it’s… it’s horrible. The blood and death and just the sounds are… Éowyn I can’t even describe how awful it was at Helm’s Deep.” Rebecca pulled her feet up on the cot and wrapped her arms around her knees as she talked; the images from the battle flooded her mind once again. “It is not something you want to experience if you can possibly avoid it,” she said gazing at Éowyn with tear-filled eyes which she rapidly blinked away.

Éowyn looked at her for a long moment and then shrugged, “I would still go with you if Lord Aragorn would permit it.”

“Do you want to die, Éowyn? We might never leave this place we go tomorrow.” Rebecca couldn’t bring herself to say Paths of the Dead.

Staring at the ground, Éowyn whispered, “No, Rebecca, not really. I just do not want to be alone if… if my uncle and my brother die in this battle ahead. I do not know if you can understand that…”

“I can,” Rebecca interrupted. “I used to feel that way too. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to Thomas or Aragorn,” she paused when she saw Éowyn nod and a glimmer of understanding started to come to Rebecca. “But,” she continued softly, “I don’t want to die, Éowyn, even if… something horrible happens to those I love.” She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “And it can, Éowyn. Did you see Thomas?” Éowyn shook her head as she gazed intently at Rebecca. “An orc slashed him here,” she dragged a finger along the side of her face, “and it broke his helm and he came very close to dying. One of your men saved him. The man standing next to me was killed, Éowyn. It could just as easily have been me.”

“You get to go with the men and you are younger than I am,” she said bitterly.

“Yes, but my path is different than yours, Éowyn. I’m Aragorn’s ward and my place is with him. I can’t explain it to you any more than that.”

Éowyn shook her head in frustration, “After all you say and as horrible as it sounds, Rebecca, my heart still would ride with you and Lord Aragorn tomorrow.”

Knowing she had no business asking, Rebecca did so anyway, “Do you have feelings for Aragorn?”

First shocked and then embarrassed, Éowyn slowly nodded, “I do, I think I love him.”

“Love? How can you love someone you barely know?” Rebecca asked in surprise, now understanding what was bothering Aragorn.

“What do you know about love?” Éowyn said angrily. “You are too young to understand.”

“I may be young, but I know it takes time to get to know someone.” Rebecca shook her head, fingering the chain of the pendant Thomas had given her in Lothlórien. “Éowyn, it just surprised me, it’s between you and Aragorn.”

Éowyn dropped her head. “I know,” she whispered, “and he does not see me that way so it matters not. Forgive me for responding that way,” she sighed. “I think it would be best if we slept now, you look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted,” Rebecca admitted. She stood and shook out her bedroll and slipped out of her hauberk before lying down to sleep. “Good-night, Éowyn.”

“Good-night.”

0-0-0-0-0

In spite of Rebecca’s wishes to sleep well, Aragorn did not. He joined the others at the fire until Thomas and Halbarad slept and then he slipped away into the night. He sat leaning back against a rock overlooking the valley smoking his pipe and lost in thought.

Éowyn’s declarations of love had not really surprised him; he had seen the looks she had given him in Edoras. The problem, besides the fact that he did not return her affection, was that he could not tell her that he was already betrothed. Only Legolas, Halbarad and his brothers knew of his betrothal to Arwen and he was not going to reveal that to a relative stranger before he told some of his close friends. Aragorn thought longingly of Arwen for a moment, hoping that tomorrow would not be the end of both his life, but also of their brothers. Losing all three of them would surely cause both Arwen and Elrond to fade from grief. Aragorn shook his head knowing that he could not let himself dwell on those thoughts. He knew he was making the only decision that gave them a chance of success, yet so many lives were at stake on something so unknown. It was not like a battle where he knew beforehand that some of his men would die; this was something that could claim all their lives.

Aragorn refilled his pipe as he gazed up at the star of Eärendil overhead, gauging the time from its passage across the night sky. “What took you so long?” he asked Elladan as the elf settled cross-legged onto the grass beside him. “I expected you some time ago.”

“We were waiting for your pipe to go out,” Elrohir said as he stretched out on Aragorn’s other side, leaning back on his elbows. “But I see that we misjudged it.”

Elladan glared at his twin briefly, “We knew you needed some time alone, Estel. Your heart is burdened by more than just the path we take in the morning.”

Aragorn nodded, “Yes, it is,” he admitted, still staring up at the night sky.

Elrohir sat up and laid a gentle hand on Aragorn’s shoulder and looked at him with compassion, “It will ease your burden to share it,” he said softly.

Glancing between his brothers, Aragorn knocked the last of the pipe-weed from his pipe as he pondered his next words and how his brothers would take them. The twins waited with elvish patience for his response. Finally, Aragorn spoke and his voice was low and hesitant for he knew this would hurt his brothers no matter how well-intentioned he meant them. “I want you both to stay here tomorrow and then either return to Rivendell or go to Minas Tirith with Théoden.” His brothers sported identical looks of mixed shock, hurt and anger. “I just, I do not…”

“How can you ask such a thing, Estel?” Elladan asked, his grey eyes almost black in his fury.

“Because I cannot see you…”

Elladan cut him off. “Hurt? You are worried about Elrohir and I being injured?” he scoffed. “He and I have been fighting orcs for thousands of years. You have seen us fight, you have fought alongside us, you need not fear for us.”

Aragorn glanced at Elrohir, but his body was turned away and his head was bowed. “It is not the fighting I am worrying about, Elladan, Elrohir,” he reached over and grabbed Elrohir’s shoulder. “You know that. But these paths we tread…” Elrohir gracefully spun around and looked carefully at Aragorn as he softly continued. “We do not know what will happen. Think what it will do to Arwen and [adar] if all three of us die.” Aragorn saw dawning comprehension in both elves eyes, but it was Elrohir who spoke, his voice soft and slightly musical.

“Do you not think we considered that before we came, Estel?”

“This is different, Elro…”

“Cease, Estel,” Elladan said, holding up his hand. “We knew this path was a possibility, we discussed it with [adar]. I have fought by your side all your life; I am not leaving you now as you approach your rightful place on the throne of Gondor.”

“I know your heart is in the right place, but this is one of those times, [muindor nín], that you have to trust that your very much older brothers know best,” Elrohir smiled gently.

Aragorn bowed his head in acceptance as he muttered, “That prophecy better hold true.”

0-0-0-0-0

“Easy, Baldor, easy,” Thomas spoke soothingly to the horse as he readied it in the pre-dawn darkness. He could only assume that the return of Baldor’s agitation was caused by a combination of the nervousness in the men and the proximity to the haunted mountains. Whatever the cause, Baldor was more restless than at any point since Éomer had given him the horse and now it was a struggle just to saddle it.

“Do you want some help?” A friendly-sounding voice asked and Thomas glanced over to see one of the rangers standing nearby.

“Much as I hate to admit it, I think I’m going to need it.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Here, take the saddle,” Thomas thrust it into the ranger’s hands, “and I’ll hold his head and talk to him. Maybe he’ll hold still for a minute.” The ranger nodded and Thomas took both sides of the bridle and held Baldor’s head steady as he continued to talk quietly to the restless horse. The ranger gently laid the saddle on the horse’s back and tightened the girth strap before stepping back. “Good boy,” Thomas said stroking Baldor’s neck wondering how he was going to be able to ride him. “Thank you,” he said turning to look more closely at the ranger. He had what Thomas was coming to realize was the typical Dúnadain ranger look, tall, dark hair and some shade of grey eyes; sometimes with a hint of blue or green, but more often not. “My name is Thomas,” he bowed slightly.

“Yes, I know. You’re Lord Aragorn’s ward. I’m Hinluin and you don’t need to bow to me,” he grinned. “Though I suppose I should bow to you,” he did so, “since you are the chieftain’s ward.”

“Thomas shook his head, “I wish you wouldn’t, I get tired of the bowing.” He looked closely at Hinluin trying to guess his age, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two, I’m the youngest of the rangers here. How old are you?”

“I’m almost eighteen,” Thomas yanked on Baldor’s reins and patted his neck to settle the horse again. “It’s nice to finally meet someone a little closer to my own age,” he smiled.

“The next youngest ranger here is thirty-nine, though there are some younger ones back home.” Hinluin’s eyes suddenly strayed to two approaching rangers and he straightened slightly and gave Thomas a worried glance. “It’s my brother and one of the captains,” he whispered. Thomas eyed them curiously.

“Lord Thomas,” they both bowed to him politely as he stared at them in shock.

“It’s just Thomas,” he finally said.

“No,” the older looking ranger said, “as Lord Aragorn’s ward you will be treated with all the respect of that rank,” he glanced meaningfully at Hinluin who dropped his gaze to the ground.

Thomas saw the look, “Hinluin helped me saddle my horse and it has been wonderful for me to speak with someone of my own age.”

The rangers nodded; somewhat reluctantly Thomas thought and then introduced themselves. “I’m Captain Caladithil and this is Hinhael, Hinluin’s older brother.”

“Thomas!” Legolas rode up on Arod, “Aragorn is seeking you.”

“I’m coming.” He glanced back at the rangers, “It was nice to meet you Captain Caladithil, Hinhael and I hope to see you again, Hinluin,” he grinned. Thomas pulled gently on Baldor’s reins as he began to walk alongside Legolas. “What does Aragorn want?” he asked, glancing up at the elf.

“I know not,” though Legolas looked troubled.

“Are you worried about where we are going today, Legolas?”

Legolas shook his head, “The ghosts of men hold no fear for me, Thomas. I am concerned, though for my friends,” he smiled gently down at Thomas, “and their fears. Especially those who fear the darkness.”

Thomas stopped dead in his tracks and Baldor almost bowled him over. “Darkness? It’s a cave then, Legolas?” he whispered in horror. “Not only ghosts, but the blackness of caves?” Thomas buried his head in his hands, “Of course it is… why didn’t I realize it?” he moaned.

Legolas slipped off Arod and laid an arm around Thomas’s shoulder. “Would it have made a difference, Thomas, except to lengthen your agony?” Thomas shook his head. “Then you must face it now as you did in Moria.” Thomas nodded miserably. Legolas left him for a moment and ran his hands over Baldor speaking softly in elvish and the horse settled immediately. “Can you continue?”

Thomas took a deep breath and looked Legolas in the eye saying, “Yes, I shouldn’t keep Aragorn waiting any longer.”

At his approach, Aragorn looked Thomas over in concern, but Legolas shook his head slightly and he made no comment. “Thomas, I want you to ride near Legolas today in case that horse of yours acts up. We cannot afford to lose any of our horses; we will need them all when we reach the other side.”

“All right, Aragorn,” Thomas said quietly. “Where will Rebecca be?”

“I have asked her to stay near Halbarad, but as usual, he will be riding close to me.”

Thomas nodded, “Then she will be well protected. When are we leaving?”

“In a couple of minutes, are you ready?”

“Yes.” Thomas turned back to Baldor while Aragorn looked at Legolas in confusion.

[“He will be fine, mellon nín. Do not dwell on him this day; fear does strange things to even the bravest of men.”]

["I should have realized, I had forgotten about Moria."]

["You knew?"] Legolas looked at him in surprise.

["I do have eyes and ears, mellon nín... even if mine are not elvish ones."] Aragorn patted his shoulder as he moved to mount Roheryn.

0-0-0-0-0

The grey company passed quietly along the steep, rocky trails that led to the door into the mountain. Everyone was bundled tightly into their cloaks against the light misty rain that surrounded them adding to the eerie atmosphere and further unsettling both people and horses. Several hours after sunrise they reached a dark opening that led directly into the mountain and Aragorn reined Roheryn to a halt. He turned in his saddle and addressed the others, his low voice sounding loud in the unnatural quiet of the canyon.

"We must walk from here, but take care not to lose your horse," his glance falling sternly on the youngest members of his company, Hinluin, Rebecca, and Thomas. "We will have need of them later. May the Valar protect us." He dismounted and he and his brothers kindled fire for several torches while Legolas walked around soothing the restless horses.

Thomas shifted nervously on the balls of his feet as he tightened his grip on the bridle right up under Baldor's mouth. He searched ahead for Rebecca and saw her standing with Halbarad. A slight noise caught his attention and Thomas looked down to see Gimli looking pale and frightened and muttering what Thomas assumed were dwarvish curses under his breath. "Gimli, are you all right?" The dwarf ignored him and Thomas glanced at Legolas as the elf returned, but he just shook his head at Thomas's questioning look.

Gimli did not move when Aragorn led the way into the tunnel and Thomas wanted to wait for him, but Legolas pushed him firmly along. "Lord Elrohir," he nodded to the elf standing alongside the trail as they passed, "will be the rear guard and will not leave Gimli behind." Legolas smiled briefly, "The dwarf would not want us to wait and his pride will be injured if we mention it."

They had passed inside the tunnel without Thomas noticing and all of a sudden he was overwhelmed by the darkness surrounding them and he drew in a sharp breath. The darkness pressed in on him from every side and he could barely see the light from the torch Elladan carried.

"Breath, Thomas," Legolas said quietly and Thomas slowly exhaled and focused his eyes on the horse ahead of him.

Aragorn strode steadily along the path with his sword drawn and Elladan at his side holding a torch to light their way. The further in they walked, the heavier the darkness felt and he started to become aware of faint whispers tickling the edges of his consciousness. He could sense no real evil intent as of yet, more a curiosity of what could bring such a large company into this place where only the dead lingered. He leaned toward Elladan, ["What do you sense?"]

["Unrest...concern..."] he narrowed his eyes in thought, ["many questions... but no real anger, Estel."]

["I sense much the same,"] he nodded, glancing around as they entered a large chamber that had only one exit on the far side which they took without stopping to explore the room.

Walking close to Halbarad, Rebecca kept a firm grip on Hasufel, determined not to lose hold of him and let Aragorn down. She was close enough to Elladan and the torch that the darkness did not bother her; it was much brighter than Moria. She had not seen any ghosts either, though was starting to hear some strange noises that made her shiver. Rebecca looked ahead when Aragorn and Elladan spoke quietly, but otherwise kept her eyes focused on the ground at her feet. She wished Thomas were closer, but she knew how Baldor had been acting and it was probably best if Legolas were with him. Still, they could at least be walking nearby. Rebecca glanced back but she could not see them in the gloom.

"Are you well, lady?" Halbarad asked in a low voice.

"I'm fine. Do you know how long this will take?"

"No one does."

"Oh, right," remembering too late that no one had ever done this before. They fell into silence again.

Thomas could now hear the low murmurings of the voices of the dead and between that and the darkness his hands started to shake. Baldor reacted by dancing nervously sideways and Legolas was there instantly, taking the reins and calming the horse. "He will be fine now, Thomas," Legolas said, pressing the reins back into his hands as other members of the company passed. "And so will you, [mellon nín.]" Legolas leaned down and stared directly into Thomas's eyes.

"I can't do this, Legolas," he pleaded, trying to shrug off Legolas's hand on his shoulder.

"And where will you go?" the elf asked softly.

"albarad and eat something. We will ride on as soon as everyone is out."

Rebecca sobered quickly and moved aside and started rummaging through her pack for some dried meat and bread. Chewing her dinner she watched for Thomas and Legolas to emerge. Her expression grew more and more concerned when they did not appear.

"Lady?" Halbarad looked at her with a question in his eyes.

"Thomas and Legolas should have come out by now. They were only a few men behind us," she explained. "I hope they are all right."

"We would know if they were not."

"True..." Rebecca did not sound convinced.

Finally, Rebecca saw Gimli emerge followed quickly by Legolas who looked back and said something, laughing quietly as Thomas walked out. Elrohir followed Thomas and after glancing around moved to join his brothers, handing his torch to Thomas as he passed.

"Everyone is out, Elrohir?" Aragorn's concerned eyes followed Thomas as the young man walked to Rebecca.

"Yes, Thomas and I were the last."

"Good..." Aragorn hesitated a moment and then nodded. "We need to ride then," he glanced at the stars. "We have about five hours until midnight. Halbarad?" Aragorn looked over at his cousin.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Give the men five minutes and then we ride." Halbarad nodded and walked swiftly away. Aragorn turned to Roheryn and checked his girth strap and bridle before grabbing some dried meat from his pack. He ate one and tucked a piece in a pocket of his leather coat for later. He mounted and saw his men... and Rebecca quickly follow his lead. Aragorn watched her maneuver Hasufel over alongside Halbarad to where he was talking to some of the men and was pleased knowing he could trust his cousin to watch over her for him.

"We must ride swiftly now," Aragorn called and the company headed off across the rolling green, tree-dotted foothills on the southern side of the White Mountains. They could hear the dead following, but it was no more than a faint whisper now that they had left the enclosed tunnels behind.

They rode hard up and down the hills and across the dales of this part of Gondor, crossing streams and passing through small stands of evergreen trees. As midnight approached they reached the strange round black rock of Erech that was said to have been left by the men of Númenor. Aragorn jumped from his horse, tossing the reins to Elladan and strode swiftly to Halbarad. "I need this now, cousin," pointing to the pole strapped to the horse. Halbarad dismounted and the two of them untied it. Aragorn hurried toward the stone and Halbarad started to follow, but looked back at Rebecca uncertainly.

"Go with your king," she said softly. "I've got the horses and Gimli, Legolas, and Thomas are coming," she pointed with her head to where they were approaching.

Halbarad nodded once and hurried after Aragorn staying as close to him as was possible. Standing in front of the stone, Aragorn unfurled the black banner Arwen had made and planted the pole in the ground near his left foot. In the darkness nothing could be seen on the banner by the mortals, but a stirring could be heard among the dead. Aragorn unsheathed Andúril and lifted it high for all to see. "Oath breakers, why have you answered my summons?"

Something swirled and stirred in the mist-like substance that now surrounded the company and one distinct figure stepped forth. "To fulfill our oath, Heir of Isildur, that we may find rest at last."

"Do you speak for all here?" Aragorn demanded.

"I do, my king," the ghostly figure bowed low. "I was their king in life and in death they still answer to me."

"Then I say that to be released from your oath, you must fight for me until these lands are cleansed of my enemies," Aragorn said, his face proud and voice stern. "Only then will I release you so that your spirits may find rest and be released from this world."

"It shall be done as you command, my king," the ghost king bowed again.

"Remove yourselves now beyond those trees so my men can sleep. We leave at dawn for Pelargir."

TBC...

***From Return of the King copyright 1955 by J.R.R. Tolkien, Houghton Mifflin Company , page 764

Translations:

Adar - Father
Daeradar - grandfather
Daernaneth - grandmother
Hannon le - I thank thee
Mellon mín - my friend
Muindor nín - my brother

Reviewer Response:

The greybluebird: Thanks for reviewing! I know my chapters are long, I just can''t seem to get my characters to stop talking! :)


Chapter 21 - Loss

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.
Words in […] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 21 – Loss

The presence of the dead army ensured that the members of the Grey Company did not sleep well in spite of their exhaustion. Most tried, but found themselves tossing and turning restlessly. Aragorn knew, however, that the horses needed as much or more rest then his men and planned to stay until near dawn in hopes the men would get at least some sleep. He kept a wary eye on the dead as he sat with Halbarad, Legolas and his brothers pouring over a map and planning their route for the next few days. None of them had been in this part of Gondor and they could only hope the map was accurate as speed was critical. By pushing men and horses to their limit, Aragorn planned to reach Linhir by noon on the third day. From there they would be in lands he was familiar with from his days serving in Gondor’s armies as Captain Thorongil over forty years before. It was another day and a half from Linhir to Pelargir which they had to reach in time to stop the Corsairs from Umbar that Aragorn had seen in the Palantir. The Corsairs could not be allowed to sail up the Anduin River to reinforce the forces of Sauron attacking Minas Tirith.

“The lands between here and Linhir should be clear; Prince Imrahil will have left his lands well protected before leaving with his Swan Knights for Minas Tirith. Linhir is where we may run into the first sign of the enemy,” Aragorn said thoughtfully with a far-away look in his eye. “The Corsairs will not be content with just helping Sauron attack Minas Tirith, they will want their treasure and Linhir is easily accessible from the coast.”

“But you know the town, Estel?” Elladan asked.

“Some. I was there twice and it is a typical port town set on the river. We will send scouts ahead as we draw near. Until then our ride will be long and hard. Halbarad, I want Caladithil, Hinhael, and Gilost to leave an hour before dawn to check the trail and to keep watch to the north and south. Elrohir, Legolas, will you be the rearguard?” The elves nodded. Aragorn ran his hand through his hair and narrowed his eyes in thought before shrugging. “There really is nothing else,” he said glancing around at the others. “I do not know about the rest of you, but Halbarad and I need to get a couple of hours of sleep before we ride.”

“I will check on the men first, my lord.”

“The men are fine, go and sleep, Halbarad. I cannot have you pushing yourself so hard that you fall from your saddle.” Aragorn stared sternly at his cousin having had this argument many times in the past.

Halbarad glared back briefly before nodding, “I trust your brothers will look after you then,” he said as he walked away.

“We will,” Elrohir called after him, ignoring the dark look Aragorn shot him.

“I do not need you to look after me,” Aragorn said, standing and wrapping his cloak tightly about him.

Elrohir simply smiled.

“Is Rebecca going to be able to do this?” Legolas looked at Aragorn in concern.

“She will have to [mellon nín]. She cannot ride with me or Thomas, our horses cannot handle the weight with the distance we must travel in such haste. Since you have Gimli, she might ride with Elladan or Elrohir should it become necessary.” Aragorn looked at his brothers questioningly and they nodded assent. “Good night, then,” he left to join Rebecca, Thomas, and Gimli who were sleeping near a small fire that had burned down to glowing embers. He noticed Halbarad was lying next to Thomas and Aragorn kicked his boot as he walked by when he saw his cousin’s eyes glinting in the glow from the coals. “Sleep, cousin,” he growled as he continued past Gimli to lie down next to Rebecca. Halbarad snorted as Aragorn rolled over and immediately fell asleep.

0-0-0-0-0

“Can you just teach me how to do this, Halbarad?” Rebecca asked as she waited in the pre-dawn darkness for him to saddle Hasufel.

“Yes, but not now.”

“Why not?”

“We’re in a hurry.” Halbarad tossed the blanket and the saddle on Hasufel’s back and grabbed the girth strap, tightening it as they talked.

“Well, if I could do it myself then it would be faster, wouldn’t it?”

“Not at first.”

“Oh. I’m a quick learner, Halbarad, I’m sure there is something I could do to help you.”

“No lady, not now.” He attached Rebecca’s pack, bedroll, and the two extra quivers of arrows that Legolas had obtained for her to the saddle. She now wore the quiver Haldir had given her.

“All right, Halbarad,” Rebecca said, sighing in frustration. She looked around the camp for Thomas and finally spotted him talking with one of the rangers. She knew it was probably the one called Hinluin that Thomas had mentioned the night before and it made her wish that there was a girl here for her to talk with.

“Lady?”

“Hmm?” Rebecca looked back at Halbarad.

“I will teach you to do this someday.”

“I know, when we have time, right?” Rebecca gave him a half smile.

Halbarad nodded. “Yes,” he paused and looked at her intently for a moment. “This horse is too tall for you and even if I taught you how to saddle it, you would still need help.” He pulled on the girth strap one last time, nodded and walked off.

Rebecca stared after him realizing that he was, of course, correct. She wouldn’t be able to easily get the saddle up on Hasufel’s back; she would just have to accept his help for now. She absently patted and stroked the horse as she thought. After Aragorn became king - and she wouldn’t allow herself to think otherwise - she would learn this for herself. Though she really didn’t know what she would be doing then and if she would even need to ride a horse anymore. Rebecca frowned at the thought of what her future might hold. If this was like one of the books she had read, in what now seemed ages ago, there was a chance she would be going home. Yet Galadriel had hinted that she needed to be prepared to face a life here in Middle Earth, though whether that was some sort of foresight on her part or just trying to get her to face that possibility, Rebecca didn’t really know. She suddenly realized that going home didn’t have quite the pull that it once did. Something had changed in her and she had become… well not comfortable exactly, but this was just her life now and strange as it seemed, thoughts of being elsewhere seldom entered her mind anymore.

“You are deep in thought, young one.”

Startled, Rebecca looked up knowing it to be one of the twins. “Good morning Lord…” she searched his face desperately trying to find a clue to his identity before finally just guessing, “…Elrohir.”

“A good guess,” his eyes twinkled with amusement.

She shrugged, “I had to try.”

“Of what were you thinking?”

“The future… what will happen to me when Aragorn becomes king…” Elrohir smiled. “…things like that. I know I can’t control what happens, but I do still wonder about it.”

“You know Estel will not abandon you, do you not?” Elrohir cocked his head as he looked at her questioningly.

“What! Of course he wouldn’t,” Rebecca scowled at the elf. “I know him better than that. But I meant…” She glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, “… will Thomas and I stay here or go home.” She stared at the ground, biting her lip.

“Do you want to go home, young one?” Elrohir asked softly.

Rebecca shrugged, “I don’t know anymore, Lord Elrohir, this…” she waved her hand around, “… is just my life now,” her brow furrowed in thought. “Shouldn’t I want to go home?” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

“It is well that you have adjusted to your life here, Lady Rebecca; not to have done so would have caused you great harm. Only you can answer that question for I cannot read your heart,” he gave her a gentle smile. Around them men were starting to mount their horses. “I nearly forgot my purpose for seeking you out! Estel wants you to ride near Halbarad this day and I imagine for the next several days as well.” Elrohir gave her a look of concern. “We will be riding long and hard with very few stops, young one. Ride carefully and if the need arises, you may ride with Elladan or myself.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “I’m sure I’ll be fine, Lord Elrohir. I’ve been doing this for days now.”

Elrohir shook his head, “This will tax all of the mortals here, Lady Rebecca, and they have many years of experience. Do not be ashamed to ask for help because of your youth and inexperience.”

Shaking her head, Rebecca looked up at the tall elf, “I’m not ashamed, Lord Elrohir, neither of those are things I can do anything about. I will ask for help if I need it,” she frowned. “But I won’t do it unless it is absolutely necessary and I don’t have to like it.”

Elrohir smiled, but his reply was lost when Aragorn rode up glaring at Elrohir, as he said sternly, “Elrohir, Rebecca, we are waiting for you.”

“Sorry, Aragorn,” Rebecca mumbled as she turned and climbed onto Hasufel without looking at him.

Meeting his brother’s gaze without blinking, Elrohir said quietly, “Forgive me, Estel, yet it was necessary.”

Aragorn nodded once, “I am sure it was.” He glanced back to see that Rebecca had moved to ride alongside Halbarad and he met her eyes briefly before sweeping over the rest of the Company. Thomas and Hinluin were riding behind Rebecca with the rest of the rangers strung out behind them. With a final look at Halbarad, Aragorn nudged Roheryn forward and the Grey Company headed swiftly out across southern Gondor, the army of dead warriors following.

0-0-0

By noon, Thomas decided that the ride to Helm’s Deep had been a picnic compared to what this day had been already and he knew that they were facing another four days of the same. He groaned inwardly at that thought hoping he would be able to keep the pace. Glancing ahead to Rebecca he wondered how she was doing knowing that she had never done anything like this.

At the next break to walk the horses, Thomas nudged Baldor forward, much to the horse’s displeasure, as it shook its head as if in disgust. Thomas patted Baldor’s neck, “Just a bit boy, then you can walk,” he said in a soothing voice. “How are you doing, Rebecca?” he asked as he drew alongside, looking her over carefully.

“I’m all right, how about you?” she looked him over just as carefully. Thomas frowned at her. “Thomas, it is just,” Rebecca glanced at the sun, “past noon on the first day of what sounds like five days of hard riding. I will do this,” she stated firmly, “as long as I can. Hopefully, that will be the whole way,” she shrugged, “but if not, I have promised Lord Elrohir that I will ask for help.” Thomas looked relieved.

“I know you haven’t done this much riding, Rebecca and…”

“And you have?” she threw right back. Rebecca lowered her head briefly and then looked at him with an almost pleading expression. “Thomas, I have to do this on my own now and I don’t want you to worry about me. I promise I will ask for help if I need it.”

Thomas just stared at her blankly, “I’ll always worry about you, Rebecca.”

Sighing in frustration, Rebecca stared down at her hand resting on the pommel of the saddle for a moment as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she turned her gaze back to him with an expression Thomas had never seen before. “I know in one sense that’s true, Thomas, just like I’ll always worry about you… because I love you.” She smiled softly. “But I know from what I’ve overheard that these battles will be different from Helm’s Deep where I was behind a wall fighting and where I had at least some measure of protection.” She frowned slightly, “I know you didn’t have that, but I did and I don’t want you distracted by worrying about me. You have to focus on protecting yourself and-and killing all of the enemy you can, Thomas, just like I have to. I can’t control what happens to you or me anyway, I can only control what I do. It’s what Haldir taught me.” She heard what sounded like a snort coming from Halbarad, but when she glanced at him his face was impassive. “I can’t allow myself to be distracted by worry, Thomas,” Rebecca shook her head, “I’m not good enough.”

Thomas started to lean over to take her hand, but thought better of it now that they were in the presence of the rangers. “I suppose you’re right,” he paused and looked at her closely. “I’ll try not to worry, but I’m not sure it’s a promise I can keep.”

“Oh, I can’t make any promises either, but we have to try, Thomas. I’m just afraid that if I’m worrying about you when I should be shooting that my aim will be off. What if one of my arrows goes astray and it could have made a difference?” she shook her head. “I can’t waste any of these,” Rebecca patted the arrows lying across Hasufel’s withers in front of her. “It’s not like I can go to the hardware store and get more.”

Thomas chuckled, “No, you can’t. But, Rebecca, I will tell you right now that caring for you and worry are two different things and me coming to ask you how you are doing is because I care. I will not stop doing that,” Thomas’s blue eyes darkened in the intensity of his stare.

“That’s true,” she admitted and Thomas nodded in satisfaction.

The order was given to return to a swift canter and the company sped on into the afternoon.

0-0-0

Aragorn glanced at the night sky with a frown as he saw the clouds slowly covering the stars and the waning moon. He knew they needed to travel several more miles to reach Calembel and it would be much more difficult without even the faint light the stars and moon provided. The terrain had changed as they dropped down out of the foothills and they were traveling through some heavily forested areas that were occasionally broken up by cultivated fields and scattered farms. They had passed several small settlements during the day, but had seen no people, most likely they had fled in terror at the approach of the dead army.

The Grey Company had taken one short break in mid-afternoon, mostly to rest and water the horses and for the men to eat. Aragorn could see Rebecca was flagging a bit from the relentless pace he was setting and he had spoken with her briefly, but she had assured him that she would be all right and was determined to ride alone. As hard as it was for him, Aragorn knew he had to, as much as possible, push thoughts of Rebecca and Thomas and their individual needs from his mind. He had to look at the needs of all of his people, the people of Gondor and indeed of all of Middle Earth. It was not that he had every truly placed their needs above those of Middle Earth he thought with an inward sigh or they would not be with him right now, covered with injuries they had collected along their journey. But Aragorn was aware that this ride would tax them tremendously and he could not let their pain stop him from doing what he needed to do.

Aragorn also knew that with the addition of his rangers and his growing responsibilities he would probably have less time to spend with them. He realized that would be hard on both of them, and if he was honest, hard on himself as well. Legolas and Gimli would still have time for them of course, but Aragorn knew that the relationship he had with Rebecca and Thomas was much deeper than what they had with the elf and the dwarf and that he had become a father figure to both of them. While he understood the reasons behind these changes, Aragorn hoped that Rebecca and Thomas would as well. But their youth might make them blind to the realities of the situation and Aragorn realized he would need to steal a few minutes to speak with them.

“Estel,” Elladan’s low voice broke into his thoughts. “Captain Caladithil approaches.”

Squinting, Aragorn could just make out the shadowy outline of an oncoming horse and rider in the darkness ahead and he called the company to a halt.

“My lord, we’re just a couple of miles outside Calembel and there is a bridge across the Ciril River so we won’t have to ford it.”

“Good, that would have been difficult in the dark. Did you ride through the town?”

“Yes, my lord, though I didn’t see or speak with anyone. I found a good place to set up camp about a half mile beyond the town.”

“Well done,” Aragorn said. “Lead us there.”

Caladithil whirled his horse around and the Grey Company galloped on and they were soon setting up camp in a well protected hollow near the river. The dead army which had been closely following all day stayed well away from their camp, but still cast a pall over everyone.

Rebecca staggered and fell to her knees as she slipped off Hasufel. She wearily pushed herself to her feet and glanced around her hoping no one had seen. But of course Halbarad had.

“Are you all right, lady?”

Glancing up at him in surprise at the gentleness in his voice, Rebecca gave him a rueful smile. “I’m sore, Halbarad,” she admitted. “I think if I just get some sleep, I’ll be all right. How far do you think we rode today?”

“More than seventy miles.”

“Seventy! No wonder I’m sore.”

“You should walk a bit to stretch your legs, lady.”

“I will, thanks.” Rebecca walked towards the small fire where she could see Gimli, Legolas and Thomas, but she continued past them to stretch her legs as Halbarad had suggested.

“Where are you going, Lady Rebecca?” Legolas asked glancing up at her.

“Just to stretch my legs.”

“I shall join you if no one else is going,” he glanced meaningfully at Thomas, but he was dozing with his head in his hand.

“Leave him,” Rebecca called softly and turned to walk on. Legolas joined her and they walked in companionable silence, circling the camp. She got a cramp in her leg half way around and Legolas knelt and swiftly massaged it for her. “Thanks,” Rebecca said, smiling as she remembered back to the time he had massaged her feet and how embarrassed she had been.

“What?” Legolas looked down at her with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Oh, nothing, I was just remembering something,” she shrugged as they walked.

“Hmm, I believe your thoughts might be turned to the time I massaged your feet,” he said with his voice holding a hint of amusement.

“Elves!” Rebecca muttered, though she smiled as she said it. “I was remembering how embarrassed I was and now we’re friends.” Legolas smiled. Her brow furrowed in thought. “Legolas, if anything should ever… happen to me, please know that I consider you a true friend and…” Legolas grabbed her elbow and pulled her to a stop.

“Why do you say such things, Rebecca?” he asked, his blue eyes gazing at her with an intensity that used to frighten her. “Do you sense something?”

Shaking her head, Rebecca looked him squarely in the eye, “No, Legolas, I don’t. But you know anything can happen in a battle and with me… I could just disappear one day. I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for me,” Rebecca said with a smile as she suddenly yawned.

“You need to go and rest, but first, [mellon nín,] know that I also value our friendship and if you return to your home, know that you will always have someone here that cares for you as a brother.” Legolas kissed her brow gently before leading her back to the fire and to bed.

0-0-0-0-0

Elladan shook Aragorn awake, “Something is amiss, [muindor nín,]” he said as Aragorn swiftly arose. “The air feels wrong, Sauron is at work here.”

Sniffing the breeze that blew in from the east, Aragorn caught the smell of something unhealthy, but what it was he did not know. He turned to Halbarad who had risen with him. “Rouse the men, we ride in fifteen minutes.” Halbarad nodded and hurried away. Elrohir handed Aragorn some dried meat and stale bread which he ate without thinking. “I know not what that is, Elladan, but it does not bode well for Minas Tirith. I fear Sauron has started his march on the city.” Elladan nodded.

“I fear that as well.”

“I must talk with Rebecca and Thomas for a moment; will you saddle Baldor for Thomas, Elrohir?”

“Yes, of course, Estel.”

Aragorn looked Rebecca and Thomas over carefully as he approached, noticing that while they looked tired, they appeared to be in good spirits, talking and laughing quietly as they packed and ate. “Good morning,” he said as he crouched down beside Rebecca.

“Morning, Aragorn,” Rebecca greeted him with a smile.

“Aragorn,” Thomas nodded.

“How do you fare?” Aragorn gazed at each of them intently.

“I’m very sore,” Rebecca said quietly, absently playing with a tie on her tunic.

“I’m doing all right, though I’m just as tired as everyone else,” Thomas replied.

Aragorn nodded in acknowledgement. “You know the next few days will be much like yesterday.” They nodded. “I wanted to tell you that…” he paused briefly and Rebecca and Thomas exchanged concerned glances at his expression. “I wanted you to know that I may not be able to talk with or be with you as much as in the past. I have my rangers here now and we are heading into battles that I have to plan.” Aragorn could see glimmers of understanding in their eyes. “I am not just responsible now for a small group of us, but with all of these men and soon with all of the people of Gondor.”

Rebecca and Thomas nodded in understanding. “It’s all right, Aragorn, you’re a king and you have to do kingly things,” Thomas said.

“I might become a king someday, but until then my duty does not always permit me to spend time with those I care for deeply.”

“Thanks for telling us, Aragorn,” Rebecca said quietly.

“I just wanted to make sure you understood what was happening. And, Rebecca I want you to know that I have you ride with Halbarad because, except for my brothers, there is no one I trust more. He would lay down his life for you.” Rebecca blinked rapidly as she tried to absorb that statement. “Come along, we need to go.” Aragorn stood and embraced Rebecca and then clasped Thomas’s forearm carefully being mindful of his still healing injuries.

0-0-0-0-0

The second day passed much as the first except that they never saw the sun and they traveled under some strange dark foreboding clouds. To the far east they could see only darkness in the sky and knew it was some evil of Sauron’s making. In mid-morning the Grey Company forded the River Ringlo at Ethring, now in lands firmly in the control of Prince Imrahil. Again this day they only took a rest break late in the afternoon and pressed on late into the night, their journey actually covering much more ground now that they had reached open farmlands stretching down towards the coast.

When they stopped for the night, Thomas handed Baldor’s reins to Hinluin, “Please hold him for just a minute.” He quickly walked to where Rebecca was standing with Halbarad, “Come on, Rebecca,” he said gently, having seen her utter exhaustion and feeling it himself, “Let’s go and find a place to sleep.” Thomas glanced at Halbarad as he wrapped his arm protectively around her waist. “I’ll come back for her things.”

“I’ll bring them.”

Thomas nodded and led Rebecca away from the horses to… where? he thought with dismay, realizing Gimli and Legolas had always chosen the spot where they slept.

“Um, Thomas,” Rebecca asked with a chuckle, “Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess it doesn’t matter, I’m so tired, I could sleep right here with you in my arms,” he grinned down at her.

“That would be nice, though I think Aragorn would be upset,” she said, stretching up to kiss him, which he eagerly returned in spite of his exhaustion.

“Indeed he would be, as would I,” a stern voice spoke from the darkness and one of the elf-lords walked up behind them.

Rebecca and Thomas just stared at him, too tired to even move apart.

After a long silence the elf continued, “Why are you standing here?”

“I was unsure where to set up camp and then,” he cleared his throat and hugged Rebecca closer, “we got distracted.”

“I can see how you would get distracted, Thomas,” the elf-lord said, “however, right now you both need to seek your rest. Gimli and Legolas have started a fire now; I suggest you join them before you are ‘distracted’ further.”

Rebecca blushed and stared at the ground.

“Yes, Lord Elladan,” Thomas said.

The elf looked down at him with a strange unreadable expression. “I am Elrohir, why do you assume I am Elladan?”

Thomas fumbled with his words, “Because… well… you seemed sterner and I thought…” he shrugged and looked at Rebecca.

“I thought you were Lord Elladan too,” she whispered.

“Do not assume, young ones that I do not have a part of me that is as stern and unyielding as Elladan; just as he has compassion, tenderness, and humor that is a part of him. No person is wholly one or the other. Now, go and get your rest,” he said firmly. They bowed slightly and walked away as quickly as their tired bodies would allow.

Thomas helped Rebecca sit near the fire and left to find Hinluin so he could take care of Baldor and retrieve his packs. He met the ranger on the way, however and Hinluin handed him his things.

“Here you go,” Hinluin said cheerfully.

“Where’s Baldor? I need to take care of him.”

“Oh, I did if for you, Lord Thomas,” Hinluin said with a cheeky grin.

“I told you not to call me that,” Thomas scowled. “But thanks, you didn’t have to do that, I said I’d be back.”

“I know, but you have that pretty girl to look after and I really didn’t mind.”

“She is beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Yes, though I don’t understand why Lord Aragorn has her here.”

“I can’t really tell you about that, Hinluin, I’m sorry.”

Hinluin shrugged, “I figured you couldn’t, but maybe you’ll tell me someday.”

“If I am ever allowed to tell, you’ll be the first to know,” Thomas promised.

“Good. Well, I’m going to bed so I’ll see you in the morning,” he sauntered off whistling quietly.

Thomas stared after him with a small smile before returning to the fire and going to bed himself.

0-0-0-0-0

The Grey Company awoke to find that the darkness that covered the land had deepened and that they would be traveling in twilight. Aragorn still hoped to reach Linhir by noon and had sent several additional scouts ahead of the main group of riders.

Rebecca knew she was too exhausted to ride alone, but thought if she rode and slept for part of the day she would be able to ride again in the afternoon. It also sounded like there might be a battle in one of the towns ahead and she wanted to be as well rested as possible for that. After informing Halbarad of her plans and sensing his unspoken approval, she sought out Elrohir. Seeing one of the twins talking with Legolas and Gimli she studied him for a few minutes to try and figure out which brother it was. The elf did smile once or twice which led her to believe it was probably Elrohir, though after their conversation of the night before she knew she couldn’t assume anything. Taking a deep breath she slowly approached, praying she was correct. “Lord Elrohir?” she asked, gazing up at the tall elf-lord.

“I am Elladan, Lady Rebecca.”

“Oh… do you know where he is?”

“He is speaking with Estel, perhaps I can help you?”

“I… um don’t know,” Rebecca bit her lip nervously. “I wanted to see if I could ride with him for awhile. I think if I do, I’ll be able to ride alone again this afternoon.” Rebecca glanced at Legolas and Gimli who nodded in approval.

“You will ride with me,” Elladan said firmly.

“I don’t need to do that. You help Aragorn, I’ve seen you,” Rebecca protested.

“Halbarad can do that,” Elladan said dismissively, “and we will ride directly behind them in any case. Elrohir, however, is rearguard and Legolas is already carrying Gimli. It would not be wise for both of them to be riding double. You will ride with me, Lady Rebecca,” he said sternly, his grey eyes boring into hers.

“Yes, Lord Elladan,” she whispered, dropping her gaze to the ground.

“You have frightened her again, Elladan,” Legolas said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“I’m not scared of him!” Rebecca snapped, glaring at Legolas.

“Are you not?” Legolas asked, looking at her steadily.

“No, I’m not, Legolas.” Rebecca glanced up at Elladan to see he was watching her with an unreadable expression. “I am… tired of always being told what to do… and…” she struggled to put her feelings into words. “And I hate always needing help – from saddling my horse to…” she furrowed her brow thoughtfully, “… well I know there’s been other things and now this. I wanted to do this on my own and I can’t and it makes me frustrated, Legolas,” she shrugged helplessly. “But I’m not afraid of Lord Elladan.”

“Lady Rebecca,” Legolas shook his head, “except when you have been injured, you have needed very little help since you have arrived here. Take the rest your body requires and when you have recovered your strength you shall ride again.” He smiled gently, “You are not even an adult among your own people and I have observed that mortals always seem to resist showing physical weakness and see asking for help as if it were a personal failure. It is not and none here will think that.”

“Aye, lass, take the rest that you need, we’ll need you awake later so you can use that bow of yours,” Gimli growled.

Rebecca smiled down at the dwarf and then looked at Legolas for a long moment and nodded her head slowly before turning to Elladan. “I’m ready whenever you are, my lord.”

The elf-lord nodded and led her in the direction of his horse with his hands clasped behind his back. They had taken several steps before he said quietly, “Forgive me for being so abrupt, Lady Rebecca, my behavior was inexcusable.”

“Yet you ask for my pardon?” Rebecca smiled slyly up at him and his eyes started to twinkle with amusement. “Yes, Lord Elladan, I forgive you.”

“It is well as you might have had a hard time relaxing and sleeping in my presence otherwise,” he said as they prepared to mount his horse.

“As tired as I feel, I believe I could sleep anywhere.”

Elladan laughed softly as he gracefully settled into the saddle behind her and the Grey Company headed for Linhir.

0-0-0

Aragorn saw the scout galloping back from the direction of Linhir and reined to a halt. Behind him he heard Elladan waking Rebecca and then movement which suggested she was transferring to Hasufel. Pushing that aside, Aragorn directed his thoughts back to the oncoming scout.

“My lord,” Gilost called as he brought his horse to a stop alongside Aragorn, “Linhir has been attacked, but the defense of the city is holding.”

“How many are attacking?” Aragorn asked, his face stern and his voice hard.

“Only two ships, my lord.”

“Not many then, less than a hundred fifty men I judge. Are the Corsairs still down at the wharves or have they spread beyond and into the city?”

“They were contained on the wharves when I left an hour ago, my lord. There seemed to be some sort of organized resistance against them.”

“Imrahil’s doing,” Aragorn noted with approval. “Where are Captain Caladithil and Hinhael?”

“Waiting for you and watching on a small hill overlooking the town.”

“All right, well done, Gilost.” Aragorn turned in his saddle and his eyes swept over his company and then beyond them to the army of dead warriors and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he considered how best to use them. It was something he would think about as they rode to Linhir. His eyes settled once more on his men as he called out. “The Corsairs have attacked Linhir.” Among the rangers a stirring broke out as cloaks were opened for easier access to swords and bows were being strung. Aragorn saw Rebecca carefully string her bow, though he knew she had never done it on horseback before and it took her several attempts. Rebecca looked up and caught his eye as she finished and she shrugged slightly. Aragorn nodded once and turned back and nudged Roheryn forward. The Company galloped across the land heedless of any other danger, intent on reaching Linhir in time to help the people there.


Caladithil and Hinhael met them outside the town and informed Aragorn that the situation had changed little except that it appeared the townspeople now seemed to be in danger of being overrun. Aragorn nodded and turned in his saddle, “Elrohir, Legolas,” he called, beckoning them forward. The elves and Gimli quickly joined him and the four of them along with Elladan and Halbarad swiftly made plans.

“What about the dead king?” Elladan asked.

“I believe I will just tell him what to do,” Aragorn said. “I have all of you,” he glanced around, “for advice and planning, I do not think I will need a long dead king as well.”

“We do not know what they are capable of,” Elrohir pointed out.

“That is true,” Aragorn admitted. “However, I believe that against men fear of the ghosts will cause many of our enemies to surrender or flee. It is hard enough for us to handle their presence.” Halbarad and Gimli nodded in agreement while the elves remained expressionless. “We need to speak with whoever is in charge of the town’s defenses.”

“I will go,” offered Elladan.

“I believe a man will have to go, [muindor nín,] elves have not been seen in these lands for too many years.” Elladan bowed his head in acknowledgment and Aragorn glanced at Halbarad who nodded. “We have to let them know we are coming and what our plans are.”

“We cannot let them take back their ships and escape that way, Estel,” Elrohir said. “Perhaps the dead could secure those?”

“Yes, though they must understand those ships have slaves who are not to be harmed.”

“Can they tell the difference, Aragorn?” Gimli looked at him in concern.

“I would think so… slaves will be dressed differently and restrained in some way, Gimli. We will split into two groups with one coming from the north and one heading into the center of town directly toward the wharves. The dead can come from the south and drive them toward us. Hopefully, many will surrender, but if not then we do what we have to, to protect my people.” The others nodded in agreement. “Halbarad go and speak with whoever is in charge while I speak with the dead king.”

“Yes, my lord,” Halbarad hurried off.

Aragorn looked at Elladan, “Will you take Elrohir and Legolas and lead the group from the north?” Elladan nodded. Aragorn’s eyes narrowed and he glanced at Legolas, “Take Thomas in your group, Rebecca will ride with me and Halbarad. Now, the dead king.” Aragorn set his jaw and strode purposefully back to where the dead army was gathered and called forth the king and explained what he wanted the dead warriors to do.

“Can you do this?” Aragorn finally asked.

“Of course, my king,” the dead king bowed low. “However, are you sure you do not want us to just slay all of your enemies for you?”

“No!” Aragorn said sharply and in a harsh voice. “These are men, not orcs and if they will throw down their arms then I will extend mercy to them. Only if they refuse to submit do you have leave to kill them,” he said sternly and with a steely, dangerous glint in his eyes.

The king bowed again, “My lord.”

“We shall leave soon,” Aragorn gave him one last piercing glance, spun on his heel and strode swiftly back to his brothers to wait for Halbarad to return. As they saw him approaching, the company rode forth to meet him as he galloped hard from the town.

“My lord, I talked to a Swan Knight named Faelon who is in charge. He is grateful for our help and is informing his men of our plans.” Halbarad glanced at the dead warriors. “He is concerned about them, but will try and prepare his men.”

Aragorn nodded his thanks and then motioned Elladan to set off with his group, while he looked to the dead king. “You must give us time to get into position before you attack,” he said sternly. The king bowed and Aragorn kicked Roheryn into a gallop and let his group down into the town without another word.

The streets were deserted as they rode swiftly through the town. As scared and as nervous as Rebecca was she still looked around curiously at the small town as it was so much different than Edoras. The houses were made of some type of stone or maybe brick and had wooden roofs. The streets were much smoother and the rocks or paving stones were uniform. It was just neat and more modern looking than Edoras. Rebecca laughed inwardly at the thought of calling a place like this ‘modern’. The sounds of battle ahead caught her attention and she sobered up quickly realizing she needed to focus on that. She tightened her grip on her bow and the arrow she had nocked, though she still didn’t know how she would shoot from a moving horse. Rebecca had her answer when they stopped and dismounted, leaving their horses behind as they continued stealthily towards the docks.

Suddenly, ahead of them Rebecca could see three men. The tall man in the middle was wearing the most elaborate armor she had seen in Middle Earth, while the shorter men flanking him had simpler chain mail and helms, though they both had swan-ship emblems on their tunics which seemed to indicate it was a uniform of some sort. This… Swan Knight’s chain mail was highly polished and glistened brightly even in the overcast, he also had a dark blue cloth over his chest with a white swan-ship on it. He wore a dark blue cloak and a while belt to which his sword and dagger were attached. Rebecca stared at him in frank amazement until Halbarad poked her in the ribs with his elbow and she dropped her gaze to the ground blushing slightly, though no one else seemed to have noticed.

“I am Faelon, my Lord Aragorn,” the Swan Knight bowed, “and I welcome your help.”

“Faelon,” Aragorn inclined his head. “I am glad to assist, but we do not have much time before the dead army will start their attack. Have you informed your men?”

“Yes, they are aware,” Faelon paused. “Though I am sure none of us can be fully prepared for that.”

“No, you will not, yet it will save the town. I have directed my rangers to take prisoners of those who surrender,” Aragorn regarded the Knight sternly. “Does Prince Imrahil do the same?” he asked.

“Yes,” Faelon responded without hesitation. “Prince Imrahil is an honorable man and would never kill one who would throw down his weapons.”

“Good… then he is much as I remember him,” he said as if to himself. “Where shall I place my men?”

“Follow me.”

Faelon and his men led them swiftly through the last few blocks and Rebecca could hear the noise of the battle growing and she bit her lip nervously wondering just what use she would be in a battle like this.

“I would have you stay here, Lord Aragorn,” Faelon directed as they stopped by a building closest to the docks. Aragorn peered carefully around the corner and saw the Corsair ships docked. Directly in front of him was a barricade of crates, barrels, and even a small upturned fishing boat. The men of the town and a smattering of men dressed as the men accompanying the Swan Knight, stood behind this barricade and were frantically trying to push the Corsairs back, but had run out of arrows some time ago by the looks of things and these men were no swordsmen. Even as Aragorn watched a few more Corsairs slipped past the barricade and engaged the townsmen in hand-to-hand combat.

“I have asked your other men to wait behind that building there,” Faelon pointed to the north side of the dock.

Aragorn nodded, though he shifted restlessly as he wanted to rush out and help the townsmen immediately. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he glanced back to meet Halbarad’s understanding eyes. Aragorn’s gaze fell on Rebecca and he saw she was trembling though when she looked up at him she met his gaze steadily. “You will do well, Rebecca,” he said, before shooting a glance at Halbarad.

“Yes, sir,” she nodded and Aragorn noted how she had again slipped back into her old speech pattern in her extreme nervousness.

“Stay near Halbarad.”

“Not you?” Rebecca looked at him in surprise.

“No… I need to be out front leading the men and you will be safer with him.”

“Yes, sir,” she bowed her head and plucked at her bowstring.

0-0-0

A strange eerie whooshing noise heralded the arrival of the dead army coming from the south and the screams of terror from the Corsairs confirmed it as they scrambled recklessly over the barricade in a desperate attempt to escape. The two groups of rangers sprang out from their hiding places to stop the Corsairs from leaving the docks and escaping into the town. Many of the townsmen also reacted to the dead army by falling to their faces and cowering in fear. Some of the Corsairs stabbed them viciously in the back even as they ran by such was their cruelty and hatred for all the men of the west. Immediately, the twang of bowstrings could be heard as the rangers cut down those Corsairs before they had gone a step further.

Thomas followed Legolas and Gimli as they ran onto the docks blocking the only exit to the north. The looks of horror on the faces of the Corsairs rushing towards them was almost comical as the pirates themselves were covered with ugly tattoos and had vicious scars that bore testimony to the life that they lived raiding and plundering towns and villages. The battle was brief as most of the Corsairs quickly surrendered to the rangers, few of them had the courage to face the dead army behind them and most realized that being alive in the hands of men was preferable to being dead. Only four or five continued to struggle for their freedom and they were swiftly and mercilessly slain by Elladan, Elrohir, and several of the rangers. Thomas watched the twins in amazement as they moved with a grace that not even Legolas could match. Their swords were wielded without apparent effort and you could hardly see the blades so quickly did they slice through the air.

Sighing quietly in relief that he had not had to engage any of the enemy, Thomas turned to look for Rebecca when the brief battle was over. “Thomas!” he turned back to meet the fierce gaze of one of the elf-lords. “Yes, my lord?” he had given up trying to tell them apart for now.

“I need you to stay here and help guard the prisoners. They need to be searched carefully. Gilost is in charge.” Thomas nodded and the elves and most of the rangers ran down the docks towards the ships where some skirmishes were still going on, leaving Thomas and seven rangers behind to guard the thirty or so Corsairs. Hinluin and one of the other rangers were carefully searching each prisoner for hidden daggers while Thomas and the five other rangers stood in a large circle around them with bows nocked and pointed or swords drawn watching closely.

Suddenly there was a furious struggle as one of the Corsairs pulled a dagger and lunged at Hinluin. The young ranger was able to sidestep the first swing, but the backswing cut a long slice across his chest. By that time, Thomas and a ranger named Alvist, had reached them and without hesitation Thomas stabbed at the Corsair, sinking his sword into his stomach while Alvist plunged his sword through his heart. The man fell to his knees and then dead to the ground while Thomas and Alvist knelt down beside Hinluin. The angry rangers had pushed the rest of the Corsairs back away from where Hinluin had fallen.

“Damn it,” Thomas swore angrily as he looked at the blood on his friend.

Alvist carefully pulled back the shirt from the wound, “It’s not too bad, but we need to get the bleeding stopped.” He tore off part of his shirt and pressed it firmly to the cut to staunch the flow of blood.

“Am I going to die?” Hinluin whispered his eyes full or fear.

“No, lad, you’re not,” Alvist said stroking his hair comfortingly. “But we do need a healer.”

“Rebecca! I’ll get Rebecca!” Thomas stood and looked down the docks where the fighting appeared to have stopped. “I’ll be right back, Hinluin. Hang on.” Hinluin gave him a puzzled look before closing his eyes.

Thomas ran down the docks scanning the men for any sign of Rebecca, Aragorn, or Halbarad knowing they would be together. He finally spotted the tall figure of Aragorn and ran up to him breathlessly when he didn’t immediately see Rebecca nearby. Shifting from foot to foot Thomas waited for Aragorn to notice him as he stood talking with Faelon, Elladan, and Legolas. After a few moments Thomas interrupted him, “Aragorn, where’s Rebecca? I need her right away.”

Aragorn frowned down at him in disapproval. “What is the matter, Thomas?” he asked sternly.

“Hinluin was wounded by a Corsair prisoner and he needs a healer and-and I need Rebecca. Do you know where she is, Aragorn?” he asked again.

“She is helping with the wounded near the barricades. Halbarad is with her. How badly is Hinluin hurt?”

Thomas took a deep breath. “He has a long, fairly deep cut right here,” he drew a line across his chest. “Alvist said he wouldn’t die, but he needs a healer.”

“I think it would be wiser to move him down here with the other wounded. Legolas will you go and carry him?” The elf nodded. “We also need to move the rest of those prisoners down here and confine them. Elladan, go with them and bring them back and secure them with the others.”

“Aragorn, I’m sorry for interrupting you. I just…” Thomas shrugged.

“Peace, Thomas, you were worried for your friend, go and get him,” Aragorn said motioning him away.

0-0-0

Thomas talked quietly to Hinluin as Legolas carried him to the healers. As Legolas laid him gently on the dock, Thomas saw Rebecca finishing with an injured man and called her over. She ran over and quickly knelt by Hinluin’s side giving him a reassuring smile as she pulled back the cloth covering the wound. “It’s not too serious,” she murmured, “but it does need stitches. Thomas, go to the fire over there and get me some of the hot water,” she ordered.

“Hinluin!” a ranger cried out, dropping to his knees beside him, opposite Rebecca. “What happened to you?”

“One of the prisoners had a dagger.”

The man scowled down at him, “You should have been more careful.”

“We were searching them, Hinhael,” he protested.

Rebecca looked at the man darkly, “I don’t know or really care who you are, but this is not the time to scold him.”

The man flushed, “I’m sorry, Lady Rebecca, I’m his brother and I’m just worried for him.”

Her voice softened, “Still, right now he needs your care and not your anger.”

Hinhael nodded, “Will he be all right?”

“Yes.” Rebecca took the water Thomas handed her and poured some of it into a small cup and made an herbal tea for Hinluin’s pain. She used the rest to clean the wound and then started stitching it.

Thomas watched in fascination while she worked, amazed at her skill. As she bandaged Hinluin she glanced at Thomas and gave him a quick smile before returning to her work. “I’m going to leave you with your brother now, Hinluin, but I know he won’t be scolding you,” she gave Hinhael a pointed look and he nodded. Rebecca gathered her things and stood glancing around for the next patient. Before she could move, however Thomas grabbed her elbow and pulled her a short distance away. “Let go of me, Thomas. I have to help the wounded.”

“I know, I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

“Don’t I look all right?” Rebecca said with annoyance. “I didn’t even loose an arrow; it was all over so quickly. Now let me go.” She shook off his hand and headed back to the wounded, throwing an angry glare at him over her shoulder. Elrohir intercepted her on the way back.

“Lady Rebecca, Estel wants to know if Hinluin can travel.”

“Right now?” Elrohir nodded and Rebecca’s brow furrowed in thought. “I-I think so, Lord Elrohir, though he will need help mounting his horse. His wound will pull and…”

“I can help with that,” Elrohir said.

“Why didn’t you or Lord Elladan heal him?” she exclaimed.

“My gift allows me to take away pain, Lady Rebecca and while Elladan’s gift is stronger and can promote healing and impart strength, it cannot close wounds that need to be stitched. Though both of us do have skill such as yours, your gift was needed today,” he smiled.

“Are we leaving right away?” Rebecca asked, looking beyond him to the other wounded men.

“Yes, the townspeople will take care of their own, we must ride on. Our battle is in Minas Tirith.”

Rebecca led the way back to Hinluin and they helped him to stand with just a little support from his brother. They all followed Elrohir back to where Aragorn was waiting and he gave Hinluin a swift piercing glance up and down before turning to Rebecca. “Well?”

“He can ride, though as I told Lord Elrohir, he will need help mounting his horse.”

Aragorn nodded, “We need to leave. Elrohir, Hinhael, take Hinluin to his horse and meet us at the meadow east of town. Rebecca, wait for me.” Aragorn turned to Faelon and quickly took his leave before swiftly leaving the dock. Rebecca hurried after him and after a moment Aragorn remembered and shortened his stride, allowing her to catch up. Halbarad suddenly appeared out of nowhere and Rebecca jumped in surprise.

“Where did you come from?”

“I’ve been near you all day, lady,” he said with a trace of amusement in his voice.

“I wondered where you went.”

“I told you, Rebecca that Halbarad would be around. In fact, I believe I told you to stay with him.” Aragorn gazed down at her with an unreadable expression.

“I did, Aragorn until the wounded needed help and then… then I sort of lost track of him.”

“I imagine you did, Rebecca, you have a healer’s heart.”

Reaching the horses, they swiftly mounted and headed back through the streets that were now filling with women and children. Outside the main gate, they nudged the horses to a gallop and circled around the town to join the rest of the Grey Company and the dead army to continue the drive to Pelargir.

0-0-0-0-0

Pelargir lay spread out before the Grey Company, smoke rising from different sections around the large town, but mostly centered close to the river where fifty large Corsair warships were either docked or lay at anchor. The largest ship was tied near the center of town and Aragorn could faintly see a steady stream of men going up the gangway carrying things and dragging struggling women. His heart clenched in pain at the suffering of his people, yet he knew that he would see many worse things in the streets below. They had traveled the last twenty-four hours without sleeping and had fought small bands of Haradrim that they had encountered and yet they still must deal with this. During that time he had collected hundreds of men from the small towns along the way and thousands more were coming on foot as fast as they could. Aragorn glanced at Elladan, “The dead should take and secure the ships while we handle the town.” Though it was a statement he still looked at the elf for his thoughts.

Elladan nodded, “Yes, we need the ships and they cannot be allowed to sail.” His face darkened, “They have taken women, Estel.”

“I see them. I am going to divide us into six groups and drive through the town and push the Corsairs towards the wharves.” Elladan nodded as Aragorn called out, “Elrohir, Legolas, Captain Caladithil, Gilost.” The men and elves joined him and he quickly explained what he wanted them to do and he sent them off to divide up the rangers and the Gondorians. Then Aragorn spoke with the dead king and told him to capture and hold each of the ships.

0-0-0

Thomas followed Elladan closely as their group of forty men trotted through the streets of Pelargir. His eyes were sunken and dark rimmed from exhaustion, but fear gave him the adrenaline to keep going. So far they had seen no signs of the Corsairs, but Thomas could hear the sounds of breaking glass and was unsurprised when Elladan called them to a halt. Using hand signals, Elladan motioned to a ranger and the man crept forward and cautiously peeked around the corner of the building before hurrying back to the elf and whispering to him just loud enough for Thomas to overhear. “There are twenty men, my lord and they are breaking into some shops. There doesn’t appear to be anyone else around.” Elladan nodded and the ranger scurried back to his horse. With that they surged into the small square and surrounded the Corsairs, leaping from their horses and quickly engaging them. Thomas found himself facing a much shorter man and though he was quick he was no swordsman. Thomas quite easily disarmed him and held his sword to the Corsair’s throat, “Will you yield?” he barked.

His eyes wide with fear, the Corsair squeaked, “Yes.” Thomas nodded and backed up a step, but did not take his eyes or sword off of him. As a couple of the Gondorians came with rope, Thomas glanced around him to see thirteen bloody bodies and seven prisoners and he sighed wondering why they didn’t surrender in the face of such overwhelming odds.

“Some men prefer death, Thomas rather than accepting mercy at the hands of others,” Elladan spoke from beside him, his face stern and remote.

“What will happen to these men?” Thomas indicated the prisoners.

“The king will decide,” Elladan said with a dark satisfied gleam in his eye. “Come, Thomas.”

They rode on through the streets heading for the docks and searching out the enemy.

0-0-0

The part of town they rode through was littered with the bodies of men and even some children and Rebecca’s heart cried out for them even as she wondered where the women were. She had never seen Aragorn look so angry, fierce, and… sorrowful as he did now as they picked their way gingerly through the streets. Hearing screams in the distance spurred them into a trot and Aragorn led them carefully and quickly down a twisting street to a scene of utter horror. In a square surrounded by houses was a large band of Corsairs. Bodies of men lay dead and dying around the square while women were being dragged screaming from the houses. Across the square from their group, two women were being raped. Children were being casually killed as they ran crying after their mothers. Rebecca’s face paled as she stared in shock before a fierce and righteous anger swept over her and she tightened her grip on her bow. It was all she could do to not just start firing right then.

Without a word, Aragorn jumped from Roheryn and strode swiftly into the swirling mass followed by his men who spread quickly around the square. His face cold and hard he grabbed the first Corsair he came to and jerked him around by the collar, forcing him to release the woman he was holding. Aragorn ran him through with his sword without a second thought and with not a thought for mercy.

By this time, the Corsairs had become aware of their danger and were starting to react and fierce fighting broke out all over the square. Rebecca stayed close to Halbarad and finally saw an open shot as one of the Corsairs was trying to escape down the street. She fired, hitting him squarely in the chest and as he slowly dropped to the ground Rebecca knew he was dead. She stared at him with her left hand tightly clenching her bow and her right hand in the act of nocking another arrow. This was not like at Helm’s Deep where it was dark and Rebecca had killed orcs and she could distantly see men falling under her arrows. This man was only thirty yards away and she had killed him. Taking several deep breaths and glancing at the bodies of the brutally slain children and men around the square, she wiped a shaky arm across her eyes and realized that though these might be men they were acting like orcs. She gritted her teeth and finished nocking her bow and looked around, but a bow was really no good in such close quarters. “Halbarad, can I stand on the steps up there so I can see?” Rebecca pointed to one of the houses and he grunted in agreement as he turned to face another man. She ran up the steps and being able to see over the heads of the others allowed her to pick out targets. It was hard, though because everyone moved so fast that it was hard to tell who was who. Still, she scanned the mass of men with her bow ready to fire until she saw one of the Gondorians stagger back under the onslaught of a Corsair and then she loosed her arrow. It struck the man in the shoulder when he turned slightly. “Dang it,” she muttered angrily. But it gave the Gondorian enough time to recover and kill the pirate. Rebecca scanned the crowd again, but could only watch until the battle ended.

Finally, the battle died down and Aragorn took no prisoners, his mercy only extended so far. When it was over, thirty-seven Corsairs and eleven Gondorians lay dead; and eight Gondorians and three of the rangers were slightly injured. Aragorn ran his hand though his hair as he debated about what do to with the injured women and children, most of whom had fled back into their homes. Glancing around him he saw that Rebecca and two of the rangers were already tending to his wounded men. Aragorn strode to one of the now closed doors and knocked, he had to find help for these people, but he could not stay. It was a long time before a timid, shaky voice answered, “Yes?”

“Forgive me, lady, but I need your help. Though I know you must be terribly frightened, please open the door so that I may speak with you.”

The door slowly opened and a battered, terrified woman stood there and Aragorn forced himself to soften his features so as not to further frighten her. “My men and I must leave.” Her eyes grew even more fearful. “I am sorry, but we must reach the docks and stop these Corsairs. Is there someone to help with your injured? A healer nearby, perhaps?” he asked gently.

“On-on the next street over there is one. I-I could get him.”

Aragorn sighed in relief, “You must be brave, lady and do that for your family and friends.” She nodded. “I am sorry,” he said again bowing slightly and turning away. He headed back to the horses frowning when he saw Rebecca and Halbarad on the far side of the square. “Halbarad, Rebecca, we need to leave.”

“Just a minute, Aragorn,” Rebecca called back in a highly agitated voice from where she was kneeling over someone.

Aragorn blinked in surprise at her tone wondering what she was doing as Halbarad had his back to her. He suddenly sighed and rubbed his forehead in frustration as he remembered that that was where the women had been raped. “Oh, Rebecca,” he murmured. He watched as Rebecca swiftly packed her healing supplies and patted a woman gently on the shoulder before jumping to her feet and hurrying across the square skirting around the bodies as she walked. “I’m sorry, Aragorn,” she said refusing to meet his eyes as she passed him and climbed on Hasufel.

He just nodded and then looked at Halbarad who whispered, “I couldn’t stop her,” the look he gave Aragorn was filled with sorrow.

“I am sure you could not, but I would have spared her that at least,” Aragorn said matching Halbarad’s look as he mounted his horse and led them around the square and closer to the docks.

0-0-0

Elladan’s group met up with Legolas and his men as they were both chasing large numbers of Corsairs towards the docks. Emboldened by their suddenly increased numbers, the Corsairs turned and rushed at them. Temporarily overwhelmed by the sheer numbers, Elladan and Legolas pulled their men back a short way to regroup.

“What is our plan, Elladan?” Legolas looked to him for direction.

Elladan’s eyes burned fiercely and Thomas was glad that he was not the object of that gaze. “Take twenty-five of your men to the left and down the next street. Alvist can take twenty-five around to the right and I will take the rest straight back down here.” Legolas and Alvist nodded and took off. Elladan waited a few minutes and then headed back down the street with Thomas and the other thirty men on his heels. Thomas saw that many of the Corsairs were standing in the crossroads arguing about something when they burst into view. Elladan led his men straight through the Corsairs knocking many of them down, while Legolas and Alvist led their men around to the sides and they all quickly dismounted and charged into the pirates.

Thomas took a deep breath and waded into the fray, quickly locking swords with a toothless tattoo-covered man that seemed very skilled with his curved blade. The man sneered and cursed at him, but Thomas ignored that and watched him warily as they crossed blades, looking for an opening. He blocked and parried for several minutes before he saw it. When the man went to his right, he was slow in covering up his left side. Seizing the next opportunity, Thomas quickly thrust his sword into the Corsair’s heart and rapidly jerked it out, watching dispassionately as the man fell to the ground. As the battle progressed, he fought and killed one more man and then suddenly the battle just ended with the Corsairs surrendering. Over seventy Corsairs lay dead, while more than fifty had surrendered. At least twenty-five of the Gondorians had been killed and many more had been wounded, some seriously. Thomas staggered over to Elladan, Legolas, and Gimli and stood listening quietly. Legolas put his hand on Thomas’s shoulder, gripping it firmly and then just left his hand there comfortingly.

“I sent Hinhael forward and we are only a few blocks from the docks, Legolas. The dead have control of the ships, but none of our other men had arrived.”

“We can have the prisoners carry the wounded and head there. We have a lot of extra horses to deal with though,” Legolas closed his eyes briefly.

“Are we taking the horses with us to Minas Tirith?” Thomas asked suddenly.

“No, Thomas, we cannot,” Elladan replied, “those ships are not built to carry horses.”

“Oh,” Thomas said realizing he would be losing Baldor. He sighed and stared down at his feet.

“I’m sure Aragorn will send for him, lad,” Gimli said gruffly. Thomas nodded.

Elladan looked at Thomas for a moment and then turned back to Legolas and they finished making their plans. With the prisoners carrying the wounded and under heavy guard they reached the dock without incident where they were shortly joined by the rest of their forces who also had groups of prisoners who were herded into large easily secured warehouses. Almost all of the Corsairs on the ships had died, either from drowning when the dead army swept aboard the ships or from their refusal to surrender. Aragorn spoke to the small number Corsairs who survived, telling them harshly that when the battles were over they would be judged for their deeds and any trouble they caused now would be held against them.

0-0-0

Rebecca stood off to the side quietly watching as Aragorn spoke to the Corsairs. She saw the mocking laughter die in the prisoner’s eyes at the coldness and surety in Aragorn’s voice and under the steel in his piercing gaze. She knew she should be off helping the healers, but it appeared they had enough help and she was just too tired – physically and emotionally. After witnessing the horror in the square – and Rebecca knew she would never be able to forget the sights there, especially seeing the children brutally slain, but then helping those poor women. Rebecca shuddered as she remembered their eyes – full of grief, pain, and… shame - and then trying to help them as best she knew how. Her training had never prepared her for that particular horror though she knew it was something that happened in battles. She was also appalled at herself because later when they had run into more Corsairs she had almost shot one of the men who were surrendering. It was only at the last minute that Rebecca lowered her bow as she realized that she couldn’t shoot an unarmed man no matter how great her anger or what he had likely done. As she had lowered her bow she noticed Halbarad watching her with a concerned expression. For some reason she had whispered an apology, but he had just patted her arm and they had moved on. Now here she was waiting to board a ship to take to another battle. Rebecca sighed deeply.

0-0-0

Aragorn strode grimly from ship to ship talking to each crew of former slaves asking them if they would be willing, as free men, to stay aboard to row up the Anduin to reach Minas Tirith as swiftly as possible. To a man they all agreed and Aragorn breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It would have been impossible without them. Men from the outlying villages and towns began pouring into town and boarding the ships. There was one final thing Aragorn had to take care of before they could leave. He quickly walked back to the largest ship which was already loaded. Standing on the bow of the ship, he summoned the dead king to him. Aragorn stared at him for a moment and then spoke in a loud clear, yet stern voice. "Long have you wandered without peace for an oath that you broke to my ancestor, Isildur. Today I declare that oath fulfilled. Go, find your rest beyond the circles of this world."

The dead king bowed low and he and his people vanished.

Aragorn turned to the former slave who he had appointed as captain. "We may depart."

"Cast off," the man bellowed and the fleet slipped away into the darkness, heading up the river to Minas Tirith.

0-0-0

After checking on Hinluin, Thomas had to search the ship twice before finally spotting Rebecca curled up asleep amongst some boxes on the stern. He gazed down at her wondering why she was here all alone when she could be sleeping in one of the cabins set aside for them. She was shivering in the cool night air and Thomas took off his cloak and gently laid it over her, carefully tucking it around her before sitting down beside her and leaning against a box with a weary sigh. He tenderly brushed the hair back off of Rebecca's face, thinking once again of how beautiful she was even though she was as covered with dirt and grime as he was. He knew she hated that though, and hoped that maybe tomorrow she could get a bucket of water and get clean... at least for a little while he thought ruefully. He finally scooted down beside her and fell into an exhausted sleep knowing that someone would probably be around to keep an eye on them.


It was well past noon when Rebecca awoke with a jerk. She sat up in the dark twilight rubbing her eyes and looked down the river at all of the ships following. Stretching her sore and aching body she finally saw Thomas lying beside her and noticed his cloak on top of hers and she faintly smiled. She got quietly to her feet and laid the cloak over him before moving to the center of the ship to find some food. There was no one around that she really knew, but she found her packs where she had left them and dug out some dried meat. Walking carefully along the side of the ship, she found a place to sit on the bow. As she ate she stared up the river broodingly wondering what horrors the next battle would bring.

"How do you fare, Rebecca?" Aragorn's gentle, yet grave voice interrupted her musings.

Rebecca glanced up at him and saw such concern and compassion in his eyes that she almost wept. "Not well, Aragorn," she whispered as he sat down beside her taking her hand in his own. "Those-those children... and the women." She took a long shuddering breath. "Those weren't orcs... those were men..." her voice trailed off and she stared out at the water. Aragorn did not speak as he waited to see if she were finished. "I-I know, Aragorn that this stuff happens, b-but to see it." The dam broke and Rebecca wept long and hard. Aragorn pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. She clung to him desperately as she cried into his chest and he stroked her back soothingly. Rebecca finally pulled away, wiping away her tears with her sleeve, though Aragorn kept a tight grip on her hand as he started speaking quietly and gently.

"Rebecca, my heart grieves for all of the horrors you have had to endure since you have been here. But most especially for yesterday." Aragorn lifted her chin so she could see his eyes and read the sorrow there. He sighed. "As for them being men," Aragorn raised his hand and let it fall in a helpless gesture, "they chose evil paths for their lives and continue to make evil choices. Their hearts have become so hardened that that is what happens, they do not even see the pain they cause nor do they care."

"Later, I-I almost shot one of the men who was surrendering. I was so angry," she confessed. "But then I couldn't do it, but I wanted to." She looked at him searchingly to see what he would say.

He nodded, "Your anger was a natural reaction, Rebecca, to the horrors that you witnessed. I too was angry and it took all of my years of experience to control myself," Aragorn said gravely. "Yet it would have been wrong to shoot that man and you knew that, in your heart, you knew that. That is why you could not shoot; your heart is not hard." Aragorn squeezed her hand gently.

Rebecca sighed. "Yet I feel so guilty for even thinking about doing it."

"Do not be, Rebecca." Aragorn stood and stretched wearily, "I must go, but I wanted to speak with you for I could sense your pain and sorrow."

"Thank you." He turned to leave. "Aragorn?" Rebecca said hesitantly and he looked back. "W-will the battle tomorrow be in Minas Tirith itself?"

Aragorn heard her fear and walked back. "No, Rebecca, it should be in a field called the Pelennor in front of the city." He frowned, "Unless they have broken into the city, but the men in Pelargir told me that the women and children have been evacuated to the country."

Rebecca visibly relaxed and Aragorn embraced her briefly and walked away.

0-0-0

Thomas and Rebecca sat on the bow of the ship silently watching the shore slip past in the increasing darkness that signaled the sun must be going down even though they hadn't seen it for days. They had both managed to get halfway clean during the day and Thomas ran his hands idly through Rebecca's hair as she leaned against him with her head on his chest. He wanted to pull her onto his lap and hold her closer, but wearing chain mail and swords hindered his ability to do that. Instead he kissed her lightly on the top of her head. Rebecca looked up at him in surprise and he leaned down and captured her lips with his. As Rebecca eagerly responded he deepened the kiss and pulled her closer to him. Pausing for breath he pulled back slightly and looked searchingly into her brown eyes for a moment and saw all the love he felt for her reflected back... along with an incredible weariness. "I love you," he whispered as he drew her back into his embrace and began kissing her tenderly. Her forehead. Her nose. Her cheeks and then back to her lips. Rebecca slipped one arm around his neck to draw him closer and he moved his hand back up into her hair, enjoying the feel of it against his skin as he kissed her. Eventually, breathless and f
now. But, still the sheer height and the way it was constructed was incredible and seeing it made her grieve for Boromir and she wished that she could have come here with him in a time of peace and enjoyed it with him. Shaking her head, Rebecca turned her focus back to the filthy orcs on the docks and waited for them to come into range. Several of the other archers were already firing and the orcs were scrambling for cover. Now within her range she finally stood and fired, but the orcs had hidden themselves so well or had run back onto the Pelennor that there were few targets. Aragorn called the archers away from the rails and everyone prepared to leave the ship.

0-0-0

Leaping off the ship behind Elladan, Thomas pulled his sword and sprinted up the docks towards the battle being waged on the Pelennor. There were a few short skirmishes, but most of the orcs had fled the dock area. Halbarad now carried Aragorn's banner on the staff and the Grey Company followed it and Aragorn closely while the thousands of Gondorian soldiers surged onto the Pelennor in waves as they disembarked. Moving through the Rammas Echor, the great stone wall, and onto the Pelennor, Thomas was overwhelmed by the chaos. But not for long as he was immediately thrust into battle and had no time to think about the thousands of men, orcs, horses and the mumakil, the siege engines, the colors, and the noise that made up a battle of this size. Orcs closed in on their company and he was engaged in combat once again. The only thing he was grateful for was that these orcs were the smaller more easily killed orcs than Saruman's Uruk-Hai. Occasionally he noticed Elladan or Elrohir fighting and was again amazed at their incredible skill; their quicksilver sword strokes and their elegant grace that seemed more suited for a dance floor than a battlefield. But Thomas had little time for such thoughts as the morning turned into afternoon and they pushed ever closer to the smooth black city walls. His clothes became black with orc blood once again, but thankfully none of his own had yet been spilled. Forgetting his promise to Rebecca, he did try and keep on eye on her for he knew she was with Halbarad and he was easy to keep track of since he was holding Aragorn's banner. Thomas tried to stay in the area around the banner, but it was hard as the battle ebbed and flowed during the day.

0-0-0

Aragorn fought with a passion that surprised even him. Maybe it was the circlet he wore and the need to prove that he was worthy of it. Maybe it was the plight of the land and his people. Maybe it was simply hatred of the evil before him that sought to take over the free peoples of Middle Earth. Maybe it was a combination of all three. Whatever the reason, Aragorn fought as he had never fought before. He had always been an incredible swordsman, unquestionably the best mortal on Middle Earth. Today he was better - quicker somehow, more accurate, his footwork never faltering. No blade he faced came close to touching him throughout the long day. As he fought, Aragorn was able to see, to his utter relief, that the Rohirrim had arrived and were, as he had foreseen, pushing the enemy straight towards him. Prince Imrahil and his well-trained Swan Knights were also all over the Pelennor, as well as the city guards from Minas Tirith itself.

In the general chaos of the battle, Aragorn found himself separated from Halbarad, but was fighting alongside Legolas and Gimli with whom he exchanged grim glances as they continued their ongoing rivalry as they counted their kills. His heart clenched in pain as he saw Gilost die under an orc blade and he could do nothing to stop it. Another ranger - he could not see who it was - also fell, but Aragorn could not tell if he was dead or simply wounded and now was not the time to check. If wounded then hopefully he would still be alive when the battle was over and they could come back for him. Furiously, he drove his sword into the next orc and the battle continued unabated.

0-0-0

Sticking to Halbarad like glue, Rebecca's eyes widened in terror at the horror around her as they sprinted directly into the battle. Following Halbarad's instructions she stood with her back to him and looked for a target. It was actually easier here than in Pelargir because everything was spread out and orcs were much easier to distinguish from men. Nevertheless, in her terror she dropped her first arrow and had to grab another one. She swiftly nocked it and took a long, deep, steadying breath and focused on her task. She thought about Haldir and the things he had taught her and then took another breath before raising her bow and killing an orc. It became somewhat easier after that, though one of the hardest things was to remember to shoot sparingly as she had only so many arrows and she mostly needed to use these for self-defense. Between the three quivers she carried - two on her back and one strapped to her right side - she had perhaps seventy arrows. Not many considering the number of orcs and the time it would take to vanquish them. Rebecca also had to be aware of and move with Halbarad as best she could, though she knew he was much more aware of her and often jabbed at or yelled at her to move.

In mid-afternoon Rebecca caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye and turned sharply to see what it was. An orc was rushing towards Halbarad's partially turned back with a raised scimitar. "Look out!" she screamed, shoving Halbarad out of the way of the blade. Rebecca stumbled slightly, but would have been able to recover were it not for the two arrows that had also been aimed and released at the king's standard bearer that hit her instead knocking her directly back into the path of the falling blade.

Rebecca dropped lifelessly to the ground.


To be continued....

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Elvish Translations:

Muindor nín - my brother
[adar] - father
Mellon nín - my friend

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Reviewer Responses:

Graybluebird & Starsplash: Thanks for reviewing. I'm jealous of Rebecca too, but only of being around the guys. Not the traveling and the fighting, etc. I'd rather be with them all in Rivendell or in Minas Tirith or someplace. :)


Chapter 22 - Despair

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Words in […] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Author Note: This is a VERY early update for everyone – only a week and a half – since I left you with a cliff-hanger last time. I got such an interesting response to that, more reviews than I’ve had before. Maybe I should have more cliff-hangers. :) Anyway, since this is such a quick update, my next chapter may be longer than two weeks from now since I have just barely started it. Usually when I update, I’m well into writing the next chapter, but I thought you might want to have this one now instead of waiting until the end of the week.
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Chapter 22 – Despair

“Rebecca!” Thomas screamed as he saw her crumple to the ground. He tried desperately to reach her, but several orcs blocked his way. In a daze he killed them as time seemed to slow to a crawl and then nothing stood in his path to get to his beloved. Thomas fell weeping to his knees beside Rebecca dropping his sword as he did so. Suddenly he was jerked to his feet and his sword was thrust back into his hands as a harsh voice snarled,

“Do you want to join her?”

Thomas looked up into the furious blue-grey eyes of Halbarad. “Fight, boy. I won’t lose both of you this day.” Halbarad roughly spun him around and away from Rebecca. “Focus on the enemy, Thomas,” he hissed finally releasing him with a small shove.

Tears streaming down his cheeks, Thomas tried to follow Halbarad’s instructions, but nothing mattered anymore and he fought recklessly and with little thought for his own safety. He was vaguely aware that the ranger was shadowing him and often pulled him out of danger or killed an orc that was able to get too close because of the tears that were blurring his vision.

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Aragorn and Éomer met late in the afternoon as the chaos of the battle continued around them. Rangers and Rohirrim surrounded them, giving them a brief respite from the storm that they took full advantage of. Éomer’s brown eyes burned fiercely with battle lust, but Aragorn could see some pain lurking there as well. “Aragorn, my brother,” Éomer cried, reaching down and clasping Aragorn’s forearm. “Though the hosts of Mordor separated us, we meet again as you foretold.”

“I could not let you fight alone, Éomer,” Aragorn replied, wiping sweat and dirt from his face with his forearm. “The tide has turned in our favor,” he noted, glancing around the battlefield.

“Yes, but many lives will yet be lost before our victory is complete.”

Aragorn saw something flash across Éomer’s face before an almost stoic look replaced it – nothing like the cocky warrior he had been at Helm’s Deep. “What has happened, Éomer?”

Éomer blinked and turned his gaze down at Aragorn. “Théoden and Éowyn are dead,” he said flatly.

“Dead?” Aragorn looked at him in shock and confusion. “What… why was Éowyn here? She asked to ride with me, but I refused. You let her come?”

“No!” Éomer said harshly, “She rode in secret. This is not the time to speak of it,” he shook his head angrily.

“I am sorry, Éomer,” Aragorn paused, knowing his words to be inadequate.

“And what of Rebecca? Is she well?”

“She is with Halbarad.” Aragorn started to turn to where he had last seen them, but was interrupted by the arrival of five Swan Knights. The man in front was Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, Aragorn realized as he studied him with narrowed eyes. He had changed little in the forty some years since Aragorn had last seen him as a young man in his twenties. His tall slender frame had filled out some and his dark hair had a few wisps of silver. Imrahil carried a slightly elvish air about him that spoke of his family’s distant elven ancestor and that was evident in the piercing grey gaze he cast at Aragorn as he approached. The Swan Knights were all attired in the dark blue and white of Dol Amroth, though the Prince’s swan-ship emblem and cloak edge were silver instead of white. Though both were currently spattered with blood. He also wore a simple silver circlet on his brow. Imrahil quickly dismounted throwing his reins to one of his men who were facing outwards keeping wary eyes on the battle.

“Prince Imrahil,” Aragorn nodded once in greeting and a slight twitch of amusement tugged at his lips as he could see Imrahil desperately searching his memory trying to put a name with a face he obviously vaguely remembered.

“Forgive me, my lord, I am afraid you have the advantage of me.” Imrahil bowed slightly, glancing up at Éomer and giving him a brief nod.

“I am Aragorn son of Arathorn,” offering no other explanation.

Imrahil’s eyes flashed to the star on Aragorn’s brow and beyond him to the banner Halbarad still carried and Aragorn could see understanding beginning to fill those keen eyes. “How? We heard your line had died out,” he whispered. Suddenly he was on his knees. “My Lord King,” he said in a voice full of joy and hope.

“Stand up, my lord prince,” Aragorn commanded, “I am not yet your king. We have an enemy to defeat before that may happen.”

Imrahil arose saying firmly, “You are my king, crowned or not, my lord Aragorn and I am yours to command as you will.” He bowed deeply.

Aragorn nodded once, “Thank you, Imrahil.”

“I feel I should know you, my lord… Captain Thorongil?” Imrahil said hesitantly with a slightly furrowed brow, a spark of recognition appearing in his eyes.

“Yes, my lord prince that is indeed how you have known me in the past and why I look familiar to you.” Aragorn’s eyes strayed from the prince to the battlefield noting that several more of the mumakil had been brought down and that the black and white clad city guardsman were steadily pushing back the Southrons while Éomer’s green and white Rohirrim were battling the Haradrim. Imrahil’s Swan Knights and the forces Aragorn had brought from southern Gondor were scattered around the Pelennor engaging orcs and various units of the enemy. “But we should speak of such things later, my lord,” he glanced back to Imrahil who nodded. “We still have much to do here before this day is ended.” Aragorn patted Éomer’s knee as he turned to go, “Be well.” Éomer only nodded as he spurred Firefoot away.

Imrahil bowed again before mounting his great black war stallion and riding off. Aragorn returned to his rangers and waded back into the battle.

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Thomas didn’t know when he started fighting men instead of orcs. He later learned they were Easterlings, not that he cared. As long as there was something for him to take his anger out on he didn’t really care who or what they were. Moving, he had to keep moving and jabbing and thrusting and blocking and ducking and slicing things open. It was all a blur. Thomas didn’t even feel his exhaustion, just a raw aching pain where his heart used to be. At some point he was aware that Legolas and Gimli were fighting alongside him and he was in some strange way comforted by their presence.

“Where is Rebecca?” Legolas asked.

Thomas noticed the elf’s voice sounded strained, which, he thought in passing, was rather strange for an elf. But Thomas couldn’t answer his question either, he just looked at him and whatever Legolas read in his face caused the elf’s eyes to darken and his expression to become even fiercer than his usual battle demeanor. He heard Gimli give a great dwarvish battle cry and start swinging his large axe almost recklessly against the Easterlings who fell back under the fury of the dwarf.

Halbarad always had Thomas within sword length as they fought together with Gimli and Legolas. Other rangers and many of the Gondorians had also joined in this part of the battle against this particular force of the enemy. The Easterlings, in their bold scarlet uniforms, were fierce fighters from near the Sea of Rhun, but eventually they had been pushed back to the Rammas Echor and had all been destroyed. Thomas stood leaning on his sword, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Gazing around the Pelennor he saw that except for a few scattered pockets of fighting, the battle was over.

The Pelennor was littered with thousands and thousands of bodies – men, orcs, and horses. Blood ran everywhere and pooled on top of the churned up ground, there was simply too much for the earth to absorb. Thomas was suddenly reminded of newsreels and footage he had seen during World War II, only those had been in black and white and here it was in vivid color and in full stereo sound, the screams of the wounded were overwhelming. Yet, he was so exhausted and had seen and heard so many horrific things that Thomas was able to tune it out to some extent. Glancing down at himself he realized he was once again covered with the blood of orcs and men. He didn’t think any of it was his own, though he knew he might not be able to tell until later.

“I have to go and get her…” Thomas’s voice cracked as he stared blankly in front of him.

“Yes,” Legolas said softly and Gimli nodded.

Halbarad looked at Thomas and glanced up at Aragorn’s banner he bore before nodding.

Thomas looked around wildly, “Where? Where were we, Halbarad?” he cried. “It’s… “

“I know where we were,” Halbarad’s voice carried a slight edge.

Legolas laid a hand on Thomas’s shoulder and he calmed somewhat, though he still shifted restlessly from side to side.

“Alvist,” Halbarad called and the ranger hurried over. “Take this to Lord Aragorn,” he handed him the banner.

“Yes, Lord Halbarad,” Alvist swiftly walked away towards Minas Tirith which was several miles distant.

Halbarad then rapidly led the others in the opposite direction to search for Rebecca.

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The main gates of Minas Tirith were a smoking, shattered ruin. The huge steel and iron wrought gates had never before been breached and yet somehow Sauron’s minions had found a way to break them down and enter the city. Small fires burned here and there around the front of the gate sending up thin columns of dark smoke. In Minas Tirith itself many larger fires burned unchecked sending smoke and ashes hundreds of feet into the air.

A short distance from the main gate, Aragorn leaned wearily against a piece of debris as he talked with Éomer, Imrahil and his brothers as the battle died down. All of them, except possibly the twins, were totally exhausted, yet still their work was not complete. They needed to see that their wounded were taken care of, and to the housing and feeding of their men as well as to start discussing their next move against Sauron. Though they knew that would really have to wait until they could talk with the Steward, Denethor. At a strange look in Elladan’s eyes, Aragorn straightened up, turned and saw Alvist approaching with his banner. His eyes widened with horror and fear and he sucked in a sharp breath as the ranger approached.

“Alvist, where is Halbarad? Where is Rebecca?” Aragorn called his voice taut with worry and fear. He never even felt Elrohir’s hand on his shoulder.

“Lord Halbarad asked me to bring this here, my lord Aragorn,” Alvist said bowing slightly. Aragorn nodded once partially relieved though his piercing grey eyes never left the ranger’s. “He, Lord Thomas, Prince Legolas, and Gimli were,” Alvist cleared his throat, “were going back to look for Lady Rebecca,” he finished in a whisper.

“Oh, Valar, no,” Aragorn breathed, somewhere between a prayer and a curse as he closed his eyes in pain. Opening his eyes his gaze fell on Éomer’s grief-stricken face before he spoke to his brothers. “Elladan, Elrohir, will you go and help them search?”

“I will go, [muindor nín],” Elladan said, darting swiftly away.

“I am staying, we still have much to decide,” Elrohir said quietly, his gentle yet firm tone telling Aragorn he would not be swayed.

“Pardon me, my lord Aragorn, but who is this Rebecca?” Imrahil asked hesitantly.

“She is my ward,” Aragorn said, glancing at the prince then away his eyes glistening.

“It is most unusual to have two shield-maidens in a battle.”

“And we lost them both,” Éomer spat out bitterly.

Imrahil looked at him with an expression of confusion, “Lost them both? Lady Éowyn is not dead, my lord Éomer.”

“What? I saw her body when Théoden King died. She appeared to be dead.”

“Be that as it may, I saw her as your men were carrying her from the field and I had your men take her to the Houses of Healing. She yet lived when she left the Pelennor. I thought you knew, my lord.”

Aragorn scanned the field, but his mortal eyes could see nothing in the grey twilight and black smoke that drifted across the Pelennor. Clenching his jaw and setting aside his grief, he returned to his discussion with the prince and the new king of Rohan.

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They had almost reached the area where Halbarad thought Rebecca had fallen when Hinluin ran up to Thomas. He didn’t say anything, he just clasped Thomas on the shoulder briefly and walked alongside him scanning the ground around them as the rest were doing.

“We were in this area,” Halbarad suddenly said, pointing in a wide circle around him. The five of them started working their way outwards from that spot, searching for one single girl among the many hundreds in just that small part of the usually idyllic farmland. Elladan soon joined them and they all anxiously tried to find her before the sun actually set and full dark descended instead of the grey, smoky twilight. Having to continue by torchlight would make it much more difficult. It was Legolas who finally found her.

“Rebecca!” he cried, dropping to his knees beside her and they all scrambled towards him. “She is still alive,” Legolas said with surprise in his voice and a look of amazement. “Her pulse is very faint, but steady.”

Thomas reached for her hand, but Elladan pushed him gently, but firmly back. “Wait, Thomas, let us check her injuries first.”

Thomas ground his teeth in frustration, but sat back on his heels on the blood-soaked ground without a word. He stared at Rebecca’s pale face and watched as Elladan checked her over. Finally he allowed his eyes to move to her injuries and he could feel his face go as white as Rebecca’s. One arrow was lodged in her upper left arm, but it didn’t appear to be in too far so he thought that was a good thing. The other arrow was also on her left side and high up close to her shoulder. Neither of those wounds had bled much. Thomas remembered Legolas or Aragorn or someone saying that sometimes it was best to leave an arrow in the wound until you reached a healer. It kept the blood inside somehow… like a plug. Thomas shook his head, he couldn’t really remember, but it seemed to have worked. He heard Elladan, Halbarad, and Legolas speaking quietly in elvish as they examined those wounds, but Thomas could tell nothing from their expressions. He had to force himself to peer around Elladan’s and Halbarad’s arms and hands to see the damage the sword had caused. The force of the arrows had spun her body some and the blade had done all of its damage on her right side, mostly to her back and side. From the top of her shoulder blade a long jagged gash ran down her back, then around her side and part way across her stomach. Thomas could see how blood had spilled out of the wound though now, of course, it had subsided. He watched as Elladan peeled back Rebecca’s tattered clothing and lifted her hauberk to look closely at the wound.

“It does not appear that the blade damaged either her kidney or penetrated her intestines, but we need to get her someplace where we can tend to these,” Elladan said. He glanced at Thomas as he and Halbarad applied a makeshift bandage torn from the least blood-stained parts of their shirts and tunics.

“Why? What does that mean?” Thomas asked, looking from one face to another.

“If those are damaged, [mellon nín], we cannot save her,” Legolas explained quietly.

“And if they aren’t damaged?” Thomas asked eagerly, a spark of hope suddenly kindled in his heart.

Elladan placed a hand on Thomas’s cheek and looked at him with compassion, “She has lost a lot of blood, young one. The chance of her recovery is small, but it is a chance and Valar willing, she will survive.”

“Aragorn can heal her,” Thomas said with conviction.

Elladan gave Thomas a very small smile and then placed his hands on Rebecca’s face and closed his eyes for a moment. He began singing in elvish and even Thomas could sense the words of strength and healing that were being imparted.

“Gimli and Hinluin have the stretcher ready,” Halbarad said.

Moving slowly, the two elves carefully lifted Rebecca and laid her gently on the stretcher that had been speedily constructed from several spears and the cloaks of dead soldiers. Rebecca did not move or make a sound. The elves, Halbarad, and Thomas carried the stretcher while Hinluin, carrying Rebecca’s bow that they had discovered underneath her body and Gimli walked along both sides to steady her if it became necessary. With Elladan and Legolas singing quietly in elvish, they started walking as quickly as possible over and around the bodies on the long walk up to the city.

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“Aragorn! Come quickly, you are needed in the Houses of Healing.” Gandalf’s commanding voice pierced the gloom as he arrived in a swirl of white robes.

Standing slowly to his feet, Aragorn looked at his old friend questioningly. “I had determined not to enter the city until Sauron is defeated, Gandalf. There is enough turmoil amongst the people at this time, Denethor shall rule until then.”

“Denethor is dead, and Faramir will join him if you do not come,” Gandalf said impatiently. “He needs the king’s hands to heal him.”

“Dead? How?” Imrahil cried. “And, my nephew, Faramir? He was not that badly wounded.”

“I shall tell you on the way,” Gandalf turned and strode back through the gates of Minas Tirith.

With a last searching glance out at the Pelennor, Aragorn flipped up the hood of his cloak to disguise himself as much as possible and followed after the others. “Come, Elrohir I am sure your healing skills will be much needed as well.”

Dodging around fires and debris they swiftly walked up the gradually sloping incline through the first level towards the second gate. Much of the first level had been destroyed both by the siege machines and by the incursion of the orcs and men into the city. Reaching the second gate they passed through it and switched back and now walked north through the city to the third gate. The damage here was less severe, but still considerable. Houses and shops both on the main road and down the side streets had been destroyed and some still burned, there were simply no men available to put them out. They continued the long steady climb up through the city, having to switch directions on each level as none of the gates aligned with each other as a protective measure for the city. They finally reached the sixth level, some six hundred feet above the fields of the Pelennor.

As they walked, Gandalf told them how Denethor had seemingly gone mad and had tried to burn Faramir alive. Pippin, with the help of, Beregond, a citadel guard, had come for Gandalf and between the three of them had managed to save Faramir’s life.

“But Faramir is burning with fever, Aragorn, and his spirit is far gone. I fear only you can reach him. The warden has done all he can and it was one of the assistants, Ioreth, that mentioned in passing that, ‘That hands of a king are the hands of a healer’. Fortunately we happen to have one.”

Aragorn nodded, “I shall do what I can, Gandalf, as will Elrohir. I am sure there are many in need this night.” His voice was stern and remote as he answered.

Gandalf gazed at Aragorn with his keen blue eyes for a moment before he replied, “Yes, Éowyn and Merry especially need your help.”

“Then my sister does still live!” Éomer exclaimed.

“Yes, but…”

“Merry?” Aragorn interrupted sharply. “How did he come to be here? Is he badly injured?”

Gandalf sighed wearily, “Evidently he rode with Éowyn. Together they destroyed the witch king.”

Aragorn stopped dead in his tracks. “They did what?” he looked at Gandalf in disbelief and then at Éomer who was nodding.

“It is true, Aragorn,” Éomer said. “I am sorry I did not tell you about Merry, but so much has happened,” he shrugged.

“It does not matter,” Aragorn said impatiently as they hurried on. “How did they kill the witch king?”

“My uncle’s horse threw him and Théoden was trapped beneath it. The witch king’s foul beast was evidently going to eat him…” Everyone shuddered. “… and, Éowyn… brave, foolish Éowyn stepped between them. She killed the beast and then faced the witch king himself. As he was getting ready to strike, Merry snuck up behind him and stabbed the witch king in the back of his knee and Éowyn killed him.”

Aragorn shook his head slowly, astonished at the courage of both Éowyn and Merry.

The Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith was the most advanced place of healing in all of Middle Earth – outside of the elven kingdoms, most notably Rivendell. The Houses were built right next to the wall of the city and consisted of five buildings arranged in a semi-circle around a garden, the only green spot in the entire city. The gardens overlooked the Pelennor facing south. The central building was the smallest and contained the administration offices, storage areas for herbs, bandages, bedding materials and all of the miscellaneous supplies. It also housed a large kitchen and dining area. All of the houses were connected by semi-enclosed walkways and the two large buildings on either side of the administration building were for the most seriously wounded or ill patients. Large wards with hundreds of beds were in both of these buildings. There were also several small private and semi-private rooms in both of these two buildings in the corridors closest to the administration building, and hence closer to the healers, for those of the nobility. One of the buildings on the farthest end was used during times when they needed to isolate patients, though it was currently being used to tend to the wounded, the other was used as a surgery and was being put to full use this night.

It was semi-organized chaos at the Houses of Healing. The courtyard in front of the main entrance in the administration building was swarming with the men who needed stitches or a bone set or other relatively minor injuries. Some soldiers who had skill in healing were doing what they could to help the others, but had few of the necessary supplies. Aides from the Houses brought out some supplies, but the number of seriously wounded men inside need to be tended to first. Most of the men sat around the courtyard and as they waited, many had fallen asleep.

Gandalf led Aragorn, Elrohir, Éomer, and Imrahil across the courtyard and into the main entrance. Taking the first corridor on the right, he led them to a closed door with a guard dressed in the black and silver uniform, complete with winged helm, of the citadel guard standing next to it. “This is Beregond,” Gandalf said. Aragorn gazed at him intently wondering at the love this guard had for his lord, Faramir, since the penalty for him deserting his post as he had done, even if to save a life, was either death or banishment from the city. Beregond returned Aragorn’s regard steadily before inclining his head briefly. “Éomer, Éowyn is in the next room,” Gandalf said and he hurried off as the wizard opened the door to Faramir’s room.

Aragorn followed Gandalf inside taking in the room at a glance, noting the woman kneeling on the floor on the far side of the bed wiping Faramir’s forehead with a wet cloth; the man, who he assumed was a healer, standing at the foot of the bed frowning down at Faramir; and Pippin on the near side of the bed holding Faramir’s hand with a look of concern. Finally Aragorn looked at Faramir noticing his dark sweat-soaked hair, his pale face, which he realized looked much like Boromir’s only with finer features. His left shoulder was heavily bandaged, but it was the labored breathing and the obvious fever that concerned him the most. The people in the room looked up as the four of them entered the room.

“Strider!” Pippin exclaimed, his face brightening for a brief moment before settling back into a concerned frown.

“Pippin,” Aragorn nodded once as he crossed to the bed throwing back his hood as he did so, exposing the emerald green brooch he wore pinned to his tunic that Lady Galadriel had given him in Lothlórien.

“Warden, this is Lord Aragorn,” Gandalf said by way of introduction. Aragorn studied the man wondering what he thought of having someone coming in and taking over his patient, but then quickly dismissed it, he had far too many other things to deal with. “The lady is Ioreth.”

Aragorn nodded, “I need hot water.” As he quickly washed his hands to remove the blood and dirt, he asked Ioreth to bring more water and some Athelas leaves. “Pippin, move aside.” The hobbit quickly moved and Aragorn knelt on the floor next to Faramir. Placing his hand on Faramir’s hot forehead, Aragorn closed his eyes in concentration, his spirit seeking for Faramir’s as he began calling softly, “Faramir......... Faramir………. Faramir………. Faramir………. Faramir”

It was a long time before Aragorn felt any kind of connection with Faramir and then finally there was a distant spark. He kept calling softly even as his own weariness grew. Aragorn stopped when a young errand boy burst into the room with the athelas. Taking two leaves, Aragorn breathed on them before crushing them and a wholesome sweet fragrance filled the room – though the scent was unique to each person who breathed it, usually recalling some comforting place or scent. Casting the leaves into the bowl of hot water, he moved it near Faramir’s face so that the Steward could breathe in the steam. After several moments, Faramir’s grey eyes blinked open and he looked upon the face of Aragorn and a smile crept across his face. “My… king calls me. What is your command?”

Aragorn smiled gently, “Rest and recover your strength, Faramir. I shall have much need of you in the days ahead.”

“Yes, my lord king,” he whispered before slipping into an easy peaceful sleep.

Standing and stretching wearily, Aragorn looked to Gandalf who started towards the door leaving Imrahil and Pippin behind. As they reached the door, Pippin suddenly asked, “Aragorn, where are Rebecca and Thomas?”

Turning back to look at the hobbit Aragorn replied in a tightly controlled voice, “I am not sure about Rebecca, Pippin. Thomas, Legolas, Gimli and some others are on the Pelennor looking for her now.”

Pippin let out a large gasp as his eyes widened and then tears started trickling down his face and a tiny sob escaped his lips.

Glancing at Gandalf, Aragorn let out a small sigh and went to Pippin. Crouching down in front of the hobbit he said softly, “I am sorry, Pippin.” He tried to think of some other comforting words to say, but could think of none. He settled for embracing the hobbit briefly before swiftly leaving the room followed by Gandalf and Elrohir.

“That is what weighs so heavily on your heart,” Gandalf said with a deep sigh, his blue eyes reflecting his sorrow.

“Yes.” Aragorn gave his friend a look of anguish which was quickly replaced with his stern kingly mask.

“It is grievous news indeed.”

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Stopping before the gates of Minas Tirith, Thomas and the others looked around uncertainly trying to find Aragorn and Elrohir. Though it was full dark now, Elladan and Legolas could see well and even mortal eyes could see somewhat in the light cast by the numerous fires.

“Where is Aragorn?” Thomas asked, a tone of desperation creeping into his voice. “Rebecca needs him now.”

“Thomas,” Elladan’s voice was gentle, but held a hint of steel that Thomas could not miss. “Estel is not aware of her need or you know he would be here. You also know that as a king he has responsibilities beyond his family and friends and would not have been able to wait here if his duty called him elsewhere.”

“Yes, Lord Elladan, I know,” Thomas sighed deeply in frustration, “I know. Duty always calls people away when you need them the most,” he added, muttering under his breath. Though he realized Legolas heard him when the elf looked at him sharply.

“Hinluin,” Halbarad said, “go ask those rangers if they know where he is.” The young ranger sprinted off and returned quickly.

“Alvist said that Gandalf came and took him up to the Houses of Healing on the sixth level, my lord.”

They set off without a word, weaving carefully through the streets following Elladan’s guidance since he was the only one who had been in Minas Tirith before and knew where the Houses of Healing were located.

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Aragorn glanced at Éomer before he started tending to Éowyn. “Éomer,” he began hesitantly, unsure how to speak the words he felt he need to say before Éowyn awoke. Éomer looked at him with absolute trust in his brown eyes and Aragorn relaxed. “Éomer, I have the skill to call back Éowyn’s spirit yet I fear that the despair I have sensed in her since first I met her will be difficult for her to overcome. It is not something I can heal. She, with your help, will have to overcome this or her spirit will flee again.”

Éomer stared down at his sister gently stroking her hand. “Why did she never tell me? I did not know of this despair she felt and we were close… or so I thought,” he frowned.

“You were gone much, Éomer,” Gandalf pointed out, “and Éowyn learned early to guard her fears and her thoughts from Théoden and Grima. Still,” he sighed, “for her sake it would have been better to share her thoughts with you at least.”

“Does she truly love you?” Éomer gazed up at Aragorn.

Aragorn shook his head saying softly, “No, Éomer, not really. I am just a shadow and a thought that she loves, a means of escape from the despair, the prison, which her life had become at Edoras. It is you she loves and you who must be her strength in this time.”

Éomer gently pushed the hair off of Éowyn’s face and gave Aragorn a weak smile. “As I was not there for her before, I shall do my best now,” he promised.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Aragorn laid his hand on Éowyn’s forehead and called for her, much as he had for Faramir. The response was much quicker and Aragorn soon removed his hand and gave Éomer a nod, “Call to her.” As he called his sister’s name, Aragorn took the athelas leaves, breathed on them, crushed them into the bowl of hot water and again the wholesome fragrance filled the small room bringing refreshment to each one there. As Aragorn and Gandalf stepped into the hall, they heard Éomer exclaim, “Éowyn!” before the door closed.

“Merry’s room is across the hall,” Gandalf steered the weary king-to-be in the right direction. Pausing in the doorway, Aragorn looked sadly down at the hobbit who appeared so small and fragile lying in the man sized bed. Pippin had left Faramir and stood waiting impatiently for Merry to be healed. Aragorn touched Pippin’s head briefly before kneeling beside the bed.

“Is his arm broken?” Aragorn looked at Ioreth questioningly as he fingered Merry’s bandaged right arm.

“No, my lord, it is ice cold… and feels dead to the touch. We did not know what to do so we washed it with hot water and wrapped it and have continued to do that since…”

“Peace,” Aragorn commanded, raising his hand to stop her flow of words. Carefully unwrapping the bandages, he frowned as he too felt the coldness in Merry’s arm. Quickly breathing on and crushing the athelas leaves, he dipped a cloth into the hot water and started gently bathing Merry’s arm with it. Glancing around for Elrohir, he noticed his brother had disappeared so he asked Gandalf to take over while he called Merry back. “Merry……..… Merry…..…… Merry.” The hobbit opened his bright blue eyes and smiled at Aragorn before his eyes clouded over with what appeared to be confusion, pain, and grief.

“Aragorn,” he whispered. “Am I dreaming? Are you real?”

“I am truly here, Meriadoc,” Aragorn smiled as he gently stroked the hobbit’s hair.

“Then… then the other things that happened were not dreams?”

“With Théoden and the witch king?”

Merry nodded, clutching his blanket with his left hand, his eyes pleading with Aragorn to tell him it had only been a dream.

“That was real, Merry,” Aragorn said softly. “I am sorry.”

Merry shuddered and closed his eyes.

Pippin sat down on the edge of the bed and picked up his cousin’s hand. “You’ll be all right, Merry. I’ll help you and take care of you.” While his words were encouraging and his voice was strong, Aragorn caught the worried expression in Pippin’s eyes.

“Thank you, Pip, I know you will,” Merry replied, smiling wanly at his cousin. “Where is everyone else?”

“They are still on the Pelennor,” Aragorn answered for Pippin, shooting the hobbit a quelling glance. Merry did not need to know about Rebecca now. Pippin nodded slightly.

Aragorn got to his feet stretching his tall, lean body. “I will leave you in Pippin’s capable hands, master hobbit. You may eat if you are hungry,” he smiled, “but then you need to rest.” He kissed him lightly before leaving.

Stepping into the hallway he glanced at Gandalf. “Where is Elrohir?”

“I sent him to get some food. I imagine the last time you ate was early this morning… or even last night.”

Aragorn shrugged, “I am not really sure,” he admitted. “Though I am sure one of my brothers made me eat something.”

The door to Faramir’s room opened and Imrahil stepped into the hallway and walked towards them, stopping once to let a couple of aides hurry by with basins of hot water and supplies. “How are Éowyn and the hobbit, my lord king?” Imrahil asked with a slight bow.

Staring at him with narrowed eyes, Aragorn finally replied with a sigh realizing he was not going to be able to stop Imrahil from calling him king. “They are doing well, my lord prince.”

Imrahil smiled slightly. “The aides and healers are already calling you king, my lord for the way you called back Faramir. If you did the same for Éowyn and Merry…” he shrugged in a strangely elegant manner.

Aragorn turned to Gandalf, “Do you think it wise to take up my throne now?”

Furrowing his brow in thought, Gandalf slowly shook his head. “No, I believe you were correct earlier when you said that there was enough turmoil in this city.”

“Then who shall rule?” Imrahil asked. “It is obvious that Faramir cannot.”

“Gandalf,” Aragorn stated firmly.

“I would advise against that, my lord king. Forgive me, Mithrandir, but too many people fear and mistrust you.”

Gandalf nodded, “He is right, Aragorn,” stopping Aragorn’s protests. “It will have to be you, Imrahil. The people know and trust you.”

Imrahil nodded, “Though, of course it will be in name only as I will be deferring to my lord king,” his eyes glinted with amusement as he glanced at Aragorn, “for any decisions.”

“As I will be looking to Gandalf,” Aragorn stated. “It will take all of us, including Éomer, to come to any kind of decisions. We shall talk with him in the morning to plan our next move.”

“Then I shall take my leave of you, my lord…,” Imrahil paused at the warning look in Aragorn’s eye, but then said it anyway, “king.” He smiled and gave Aragorn a deep bow before walking away.

Aragorn shook his head muttering, “Imrahil always did have a strange sense of humor,” he sighed.

“You need to get used to people calling you that, Aragorn.”

Aragorn turned to stare at Gandalf, “Once we have defeated Sauron, I will worry about things like that, old friend.” Gandalf inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Elrohir suddenly appeared holding three mugs by their handles in one hand while balancing bread and chunks of cheese in the other. With a nod of thanks, Aragorn took his food and sank wearily to the floor and proceeded to eat and drink while Elrohir and Gandalf ate theirs standing. He shook his head as he considered once again the advantages of being an elf or a Maia.

A sudden commotion near the main door brought Aragorn scrambling to his feet with his hand on the hilt of his sword and scattering the remains of his supper across the floor. Recognizing the voices he exclaimed “Elladan!” and ran swiftly towards the door followed by Elrohir and Gandalf. If it had not have been so serious, Aragorn would have found it highly amusing to see two elves, a ranger, and an enraged dwarf arguing with the two middle-age women who had stopped them from entering the door to the Houses of Healing. But one glance at Rebecca and her injuries quickly stopped any mirth on his part.

“Cease!” Aragorn said in his most stern and commanding voice. Everyone froze and stared at him. Seeing Elladan about to speak, Aragorn glared at him and the elf stopped. He knew that the easiest way to get what he wanted was to speak respectfully, yet forcefully to the women.

“Ladies, my ward Lady Rebecca needs a private room now. If you do not have the authority to grant that, I need to speak with the Warden immediately.” Aragorn’s words and tone left no room for argument and his stern grey eyes bore into the women without blinking.

“We-we can give you a room, my lord Aragorn. We didn’t know who she was.” Aragorn heard muttered curses coming from Gimli.

“Lead us then,” Aragorn said curtly, stepping aside and motioning for the woman to precede him. The woman scurried down the corridor glancing back once to make sure they were following.

Aragorn dropped back beside the stretcher as it passed and looked Rebecca over appraisingly, trying not to allow his emotions to interfere with his role as a healer. It was extremely difficult.

[“The arrows, Elladan?”]

[“Her arm is broken, I am unsure about the collarbone, I did not want to move it and start it bleeding.”]

[“What is under the bandage?”]

[“An orc blade sliced her open…”] Aragorn saw Halbarad flinch.[ “…from her shoulder blade down to near her kidney and then around her side and just onto her stomach.]”

Aragorn drew in a sharp breath.

[“I do not think her kidney was injured, but she lost a lot of blood, Estel. She lay there unattended for a long time before we found her.”]

Arriving at the room next to Merry’s they carefully maneuvered the stretcher through the doorway and set it on the floor beside the bed. Glancing around the crowded room, Aragorn’s eyes fell on Thomas’s stricken face and he clasped his shoulder briefly even as he ushered him towards the door. “I need all of you out except for my brothers.” Thomas started to protest, but Legolas grabbed his arm and led him out the door. “Gandalf, will you find Ioreth and tell her I need healing supplies?” Gandalf nodded and hurried off, leaving Aragorn and his brothers to tend to the battered body of Rebecca.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas paced. There were seventeen steps between the tree and the wall overlooking the Pelennor; twenty-tree between the wall and the bench; only eleven between the bench and back to the tree. He knew precisely how many steps there were because he had counted them over and over while they waited for word of Rebecca.

A strange whistling sound and then a voice saying “Thomas?” startled him from his thoughts and Thomas pulled his gaze from the ground to find Hinluin walking alongside him and he stopped with a frown. “I have to go, my brother will be worried.” Thomas nodded.

“Lord Aragorn and his brothers are good healers, Thomas and…” his voice trailed off uncertainly.

“I know,” Thomas whispered.

“If I can, I will come back tomorrow,” Hinluin patted his shoulder and left the garden, following the torch-lit path which also provided dim light to the more distant parts of the garden.

Thomas tried to return to his pacing only to find his way blocked by Gimli. “Come, lad you need to eat now.”

“I’m not hungry,” Thomas tried to move past him, but the dwarf stepped in his path again.

“How would it look if you faint from hunger the first time you see Rebecca?” Gimli asked gruffly.

Thomas snorted and turned around only to be met by Legolas. “You might not faint, [mellon nín,] but your body does need to be taken care of,” there was the slightest hesitation, “if you intend to help care for her.”

Nodding reluctantly since he did not feel the least bit hungry, Thomas followed them to a small table where he joined Halbarad. Reaching for a mug, he suddenly became aware of just how filthy he was. “Is there any water so I can clean up a little first?” he asked looking at Legolas. Thomas realized that Legolas was wearing clean clothes as was Halbarad, while Gimli had cleaned his armor and had washed as well. “Legolas,” he asked quietly, “how long have we been out here?”

“Over three hours,” he replied in a very gentle voice.

Thomas blinked in surprise, he had no idea it had been that long. “Oh. How-how did you get clean clothes?”

“Rangers brought our packs,” Halbarad answered. “Yours is here too,” he pointed towards a corner near the door into the main building.

“Wash you face and hands, lad, you can change after you eat.” Gimli handed him a wet cloth and Thomas scrubbed at the dried blood and dirt on his hands until they were mostly white again. Gimli gave him another cloth for his face. Feeling somewhat clean, Thomas reached for his mug and drained it in one gulp. “I guess I am thirsty,” he muttered. Legolas refilled it, shoving the bread and cheese closer to Thomas at the same time. Sighing he picked the cheese up and started to take a bite when he realized all three were staring at him. “Don’t stare at me, I said I’d eat.”

“We are concerned for you, Thomas,” Legolas chided softly. “Until you spoke with Hinluin a moment ago, you would not respond to any of us for the last three hours.”

Thomas just stared at Legolas for a moment and then hung his head, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You have done nothing to be sorry for, but you need to understand our concern.” Thomas nodded and looked up at Legolas his eyes glittering with unshed tears.

“I’m still sorry for causing you additional worry,” he glanced at Gimli and then at Halbarad.

“Eat, Thomas,” Gimli growled.

Thomas ate.

0-0-0-0-0

As the door closed behind Gandalf, Aragorn turned back to Rebecca. His brothers had stripped the blankets off the bed throwing them into the corner of the room to be used later and then set Rebecca gingerly on the mattress. [“It is going be difficult to keep her comfortable having wounds on both sides of her body like that,”] he noted absently. Checking her pulse he found it still faint, but steady as Elladan had mentioned.

[“Elrohir, cut the arrow shafts, Elladan and I will hold her still.”] Elrohir pulled his knife and while they held Rebecca firmly to the bed to stop any movement, he cut off the shafts, leaving about three inches visible. The door opened and Ioreth appeared her hands full of various supplies.

“Set the supplies on the table,” Aragorn said brusquely.

Elladan walked over and quickly looked at the supplies. “These will do, lady,” he said as he escorted her back to the door. “All we require now is hot water.”

“I will have an aide bring it. Do you not want my help?”

“They do not require your help at this time, Ioreth,” Gandalf said as he shut the door behind her.

Elrohir had sliced open her tunic and now the heavy chain metal hauberk faced them. [“She would have been sliced in half without this,”] Aragorn murmured. But now the task of pulling it over her head without causing further damage to her was slightly daunting, rangers did not normally wear armor and so they had very little experience with this. [“Gandalf, come hold her legs.”] Carefully slipping the hauberk up her stomach until it was bunched around her chest they paused and exchanged worried glances. ]“The right side first,”] Elladan decided, [“it will pull on the wound, but it is not stitched yet…”] he frowned.

Aragorn nodded and glanced at Elrohir who tightened his hold on Rebecca’s left side. Aragorn lifted her slightly while Elladan pulled her right arm and shoulder through the short-sleeved hauberk. He tried to be both quick and gentle, but Rebecca let out a low moan. They froze and then Elladan said, [“That is the first sound she has made.”] Nodding, Aragorn took the hauberk from his brother and pulled it over Rebecca’s head before laying her head back on the pillow. Normally this part should be simpler, except the arrow shafts and broken bones would interfere. Elladan held her down firmly while Aragorn and Elrohir exchanged glances. Clenching his jaw, Aragorn moved the hauberk towards the shaft in her shoulder gently sliding the heavy chain mail up and over it with Elrohir’s help. As soon as he touched the arrow in her arm, however, Rebecca cried out in pain. Ignoring her cries, he slipped the hauberk down and off her arm and tossed it to the side. Elrohir cut away her shirt while Elladan began grinding the various herbs they would steep in the hot water to clean the wound.

[“We need to prop her on her side until we can remove the arrows,”] Aragorn said.

[“Should we deal with the arrows first?”] Elrohir suggested looking at his twin.

[“No,”] Elladan shook his head, [“Those can wait, she will not die from the arrow wounds.”]

Looking around the room, Aragorn grabbed the blankets his brothers had carelessly thrown aside and as Elrohir lifted and turned Rebecca he piled the blankets beneath her shoulders and head. Elrohir gingerly laid her on her left side and they tried to cushion her arm and shoulder. Satisfied when she made no sound, they turned to where Elladan was already removing the bandages. His lips pressed into a thin tight line, Aragorn watched as more and more of the gash was revealed. He picked up a cloth and dipped it into the herb filled hot water that Elladan had prepared and he and Elrohir started carefully washing the wound. Elladan laid his hands near where they were working and started singing and was soon joined by Elrohir. Even Aragorn sang under his breath as he worked, though whether it was for Rebecca’s benefit or his own, he could not say.

When the wound was thoroughly clean, the three of them examined the area around her kidney and stomach intently. [“I do not think her kidney or her intestines are damaged, Estel,”] Elladan said with a small relieved smile. Aragorn heard Gandalf sigh deeply.

[“It appears not.”] Aragorn allowed himself a tiny glimmer of hope.

The three healers began the long, arduous task of stitching her up. It took hundreds of tiny stitches and close to two hours to complete.

[“Gandalf, how much athelas do we have?”] Aragorn glanced at the wizard.

[“Just a few leaves.”]

Aragorn frowned and looked at his brothers. [“Should we use it on the wound or afterwards to help in her recovery?”]

[“Athelas is your specialty, muindor nín, but I think she needs the help now,”] Elladan replied.

Nodding, Aragorn crossed to the table and picked up the last few leaves of athelas. He breathed on and crushed the leaves, but this time he put them in a small bowl and crushed them further before adding a small amount of water and mixing it into a thick paste-like substance. Moving back to the bed, he applied the paste to the length of the stitched wound and then the twins neatly and tightly bandaged Rebecca.

The three of them leaned back for a moment and looked at Rebecca for other wounds they might have missed before turning towards the arrows which they knew not to be life-threatening, but knew it would cause her pain based on her earlier reactions.

Gandalf took opportunity of their brief pause to hand them mugs of water. [“Thank you,”] Aragorn murmured absently, still frowning down at Rebecca as Elladan started looking closely at the arrows.

[“It will have to be cut out, Estel,”] Elladan said after he carefully probed around the base of the arrow in Rebecca’s shoulder. [“It appears to be barbed.”]

[“Of course it is,”] Aragorn muttered, rising and crossing to the small table of supplies. Pulling his knife he washed it thoroughly in the hot herbal water and then in the sterilizing agent the Houses of Healing had provided. Returning to Rebecca, he knelt down beside her and looked carefully at the arrow as he tried to pinpoint the location of the barbs. Glancing at the others to see if they were ready, Aragorn quickly made two cuts close to the shaft and deep enough to get below the barbed tip of the arrowhead. Rebecca cried out in pain and tried to move away, but Gandalf and Elladan held her in place. Elrohir gently pulled on the arrow to see if Aragorn had loosened it properly. Satisfied, he took a deep breath and slowly and steadily pulled it from her shoulder, ignoring Rebecca’s cries. Once it was out, Elladan packed cloth into the hole to stop the flow of blood. Her cries subsided into whimpers.

[“We need to get this other arrow out quickly,”] Aragorn said, looking at Rebecca in concern. [“Then we can go back and stitch that.”] His brothers nodded in agreement and they quickly turned to the arrow in her arm.

]“Is it lodged in the bone, Elladan?”] Elrohir asked as his brother examined the arrow.

Elladan frowned, [“I am not certain, it must be because the arm is broken and she reacts so strongly when it is touched.”] Even as he said that Rebecca’s whimpering had increased and she was trying to pull away from Elladan. [“Estel, I can only assume the arrow is barbed because I cannot check it.”]

Frowning at the additional pain it would cause when it may not be necessary, Aragorn picked up his knife once again. He again cut into Rebecca’s arm and tears ran down her cheeks as she cried out. This time Elrohir did not hesitate, he just grabbed the arrow and swiftly pulled it out. Elladan placed clothes on the wound, but once the arrow was removed the pain seemed to quickly subside.

Turning back to the shoulder, they quickly stitched and bandaged it and then did the same for her arm. [“We have to set the bone now,”] Elrohir reminded them.

[“I know,”] Aragorn said shortly.

[“It is not badly out of place, Elrohir,”] Elladan said quietly. [“I will do it.”] Picking up her arm, he sang softly as he quickly pushed the bones back in place with an audible clicking noise. Elrohir handed him strips of bandages that he tightly wrapped around the splints to keep the bone in place.

Finally finished with her wounds, they took the remaining water and cleaned the blood and the mud off of her before slipping her into clean loose-fitting clothing and propping her up in the bed in what they hoped was a comfortable position for her.

Aragorn felt her pulse and found it to be stronger than it was when she arrived and he gave his brothers and Gandalf a small smile. [“I believe she will survive this.”]

[“Yes, muindor nín,”]Elrohir smiled gently in return.

[“I never had any doubt,”] Gandalf said with a strange distant look in his eye.

Aragorn looked at him with an eyebrow raised in disbelief, but Gandalf merely smiled.

Only Elladan looked slightly doubtful. [“She is still in danger,”] he cautioned, [“and will need much care in the days ahead.”]

[“I know, Elladan, but…”] Aragorn raised a hand and let it fall. [“I thought she was dead and now I have hope. However, I will be cautious in speaking with the others.”]

[“That would be wise, especially for Thomas’s sake in case the worst happens. You know that fevers and other complications can arise.”]

Aragorn stared at his brother. [“I get your point, Elladan,”] he said with irritation. [“I have dealt with injuries such as these many times.”] He looked at Elrohir, [“Will you stay with Rebecca tonight?” ] Elrohir nodded. [“Thank you. I am going to speak with the others and then I must get some sleep. I will return early in the morning. Good night.”] After a last glance at Rebecca, Aragorn turned on his heel and left the room heading for the garden.

0-0-0-0-0

Softly drumming his fingers on the edge of the table, Thomas absently listened as Gimli, Legolas, and Halbarad talked, though he had noticed that the ranger was even quieter than usual. Thomas responded to their questions when necessary though mostly he was thinking about Rebecca and himself. He was wondering again why there were here in Middle Earth and if this was the cost Rebecca had to pay; what would his be and when? He also wondered if he would have the strength to go on without her. Somehow he didn’t think so. He depended on her for so much that the thought of her not being as his side was too terrible to even consider. Sighing deeply he looked up hopefully when the door from the building opened and was disappointed, though he tried to hide it, when Pippin came running out.

“Thomas! Legolas! Gimli!” he cried, running to them and stopping at the edge of the table between Gimli and Halbarad.

[“Mae govannen,] Pippin,” Legolas said with a small smile.

“Master hobbit,” Gimli said gruffly before looking Pippin up and down with a small frown.

“Hello, Pip,” Thomas said quietly.

Pippin looked up at Halbarad, “You look like Aragorn.”

“I’m his cousin, Halbarad.”

“Peregrin Took of the Shire,” he bowed slightly.

Halbarad inclined his head and Pippin turned back to the others. “I-I just found out that you were here and that you found Rebecca,” Pippin’s eyes searched each face eagerly, “Is-is she badly hurt?”

Thomas stared at the table as Legolas answered. “Yes, Pippin, she is. Aragorn and his brothers have been tending to her for close to four hours now.” Pippin slumped onto the bench next to Gimli and laid his head on his crossed arms on the table staring straight ahead. “She’ll be all right,” he muttered.

“How is Merry?” Gimli asked

Pippin glanced up at the dwarf from the corner of his eye, “Good, Aragorn healed him. I think he’ll be up walking around tomorrow.”

Thomas sighed with relief. He couldn’t stand to lose him too. “I’m so glad,” he whispered.

“Why are you wearing that uniform?” Legolas asked.

Pippin immediately straightened up, “I’m a member of the citadel guard,” he said proudly. The others stared him and finally Thomas asked the question on all their minds.

“How did that happen?”

“”I-I swore allegiance to the Steward, Denethor.”

“Why would you do that?” Gimli asked with confusion on his face.

Pippin blushed slightly and looked down, his legs swinging slightly from the tall bench. “I know I’m not much use here because I’m small, but I did it because of what Boromir did for Merry and me. Later I was glad I did so I could help Faramir. He’s a good man.”

Legolas laughed lightly, “Now Gondor and Rohan both have hobbits in their service.”

“Merry told me…”

“What were you saying about my country?” Éomer’s rough voice suddenly spoke from behind Thomas and they all turned to see him walking across the grass from one of the other buildings.

“We were talking about Merry being in your service,” Legolas replied.

“I see.” Éomer laid a heavy hand on Thomas’s shoulder before sitting down next to him. “How do you fare?”

“About the same as you I guess,” Thomas replied, dropping his gaze to the table. He missed the quick flash of guilt that crossed Éomer’s face. “I’m sorry about your uncle,” he glanced back up at Éomer.

“He died bravely in battle against an evil foe, Thomas. Théoden King will be greatly honored and long remembered for his deeds this day.” Éomer paused as a shadow of grief filled his eyes. “As will Éowyn.”

“Did she… is she all right?” Thomas asked in a slightly panicked voice.

“Éowyn is going to be well. Aragorn was able to bring her back and she is sleeping peacefully now.”

Thomas sighed. “Good, lord Éomer, I knew Aragorn could heal her.”

Éomer stared at him, “Since when do you call me lord?”

“Since you became a king,” Thomas shrugged.

“If you continue then I shall be forced to call you ‘boy’.”

Halbarad and Pippin looked at the two in confusion while Gimli and Legolas laughed quietly. After a moment, Thomas gave Éomer a small smile saying, “I will bow to the wishes of a king.”

Éomer grinned as the door opened and Aragorn came striding out, his eyes locking onto Thomas’s. Raising his hand to stop Pippin’s questions before they started, Aragorn slid onto the bench next to Halbarad with a weary sigh. “Move over, cousin,” he growled, knowing full well the guilt Halbarad carried and trying to put him at ease. The ranger moved over without a word. “I believe she will recover,” he said quietly, glancing around the table gazing at Thomas last who was trying without success to blink away tears. Éomer whispered something to the young man who nodded and gave him a smile before looking back at Aragorn. Aragorn gazed at Éomer thoughtfully for a moment, but he just returned his look steadily. “Rebecca is still in danger from infections and fever,” he cautioned, “those are always a risk. But her pulse is stronger now and her coloring is better than when you brought her here.”

“What of her arm and collarbone?” Legolas asked.

“The arm is broken, it was… difficult to remove the arrow. The collarbone is fine; though I am sure it will be bruised and very tender. Elladan sang over all of her injuries which will help tremendously.”

“Is she awake?”

“No, Thomas,” Aragorn shook his head. “The earliest I would expect that is tomorrow morning. She did make some noise and movement as we tended to her,” he glanced at Legolas and Éomer and saw understanding in their eyes. “Elrohir is staying with her tonight, but the rest of us,” he looked pointedly at Thomas, “need to go and get some rest.”

Thomas started to protest “But I…”

“No, Thomas,” Aragorn’s voice was firm, but not unkind, “you need your rest. I know I am totally exhausted – I was after the battle today and I can see the exhaustion in your eyes. There is nothing you can do here and I need you on your feet tomorrow. Go with Legolas and Gimli and get some rest. I believe the rangers set some tents up down on the Pelennor,” he glanced at Halbarad who nodded. “Come back in the morning, but wait and come with Legolas and Gimli because I am sure that I will be gone very early,” he added. Thomas nodded reluctantly and stood to his feet.

“All right, Aragorn. Are you coming, too?”

“Halbarad and I will be along shortly,” he could feel his cousin stiffen beside him. As the others left the garden, Aragorn got to his feet and wandered over to the wall overlooking the Pelennor and filling his pipe as he did so. Lighting the pipe he puffed on it for a few minutes as he leaned against the wall staring out over the field glad he could not see the death and destruction, only the few flickering fires scattered here and there. “It is not your fault, cousin,” he said quietly, glancing sidelong at the ranger who stood stiffly beside him bracing his hands on the top of the wall.

“Of course it is, lord Aragorn.”

Aragorn turned fully to face him while still leaning against the wall, “You have been in enough battles to know that anyone can get hurt or die.” Halbarad nodded once. “Will you tell me what happened?” Halbarad stared at him for a long moment and then out at the Pelennor.

“The blade was meant for me, Aragorn.” Aragorn straightened up and stared at Halbarad in shock. “She shoved me out of the way and then, I think,” he paused in thought, “the arrows hit her knocking her back into where the orc was with his sword. I did kill it, but we were surrounded and then Thomas was there and I had to help him.” He shrugged helplessly, “I thought she was dead,” he whispered.

Aragorn stepped forward and embraced his cousin fiercely and Halbarad slowly responded and embraced him back.

“I gave you an impossible task, Halbarad,” Aragorn said slowly as he released him.

“What? I failed you!” Halbarad said looking at Aragorn with a mixture of shame and remorse on his face.

Aragorn shook his head, “I should never have given you both my banner and the responsibility of Rebecca. The banner made you a target and hampered your ability to fight.” Halbarad made a noise of protest, but Aragorn held up his hand to stop him. “I should have given the banner to another…”

“It was my right to carry it as your kinsman, Aragorn,” Halbarad hissed angrily.

“Yes,” Aragorn acknowledged, “then I should have asked another, perhaps Legolas or one of my brothers to take on the responsibility of Rebecca. She had been riding with you, though and I just did not think it through. Forgive me, cousin.”

“Forgive you?”

“Yes, because now you carry guilt you should not. Although, Halbarad…” Aragorn paused for a very long moment staring at the ground and tapping his now finished pipe in the palm of his hand. “While I am grieved for the pain Rebecca is suffering, I am glad she was with you,” he said quietly looking at his cousin with glistening eyes. “I cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

“Nor I you, but the cost was high and I’m not sure that…”

Aragorn interrupted him, “Is it because it was a girl that saved your life and is injured? What if Alvist or Caladithil had done it? Would you feel the same?”

“I don’t know… maybe not,” he admitted.

Aragorn chuckled quietly, “I cannot believe I am going to use this story again when I just told it to Thomas less than a fortnight ago. Do you remember when we were very young rangers with Caladel’s band and we ambushed some orcs in a cave? You saved my life, but got badly slashed across your thigh with a poisoned sword.”

Halbarad looked thoughtful for a moment and then nodded.

“What did you tell me?”

“That it was my choice to save you and that I would do it again,” Halbarad sighed, glaring at Aragorn. “I hate it when you do that, using my own words against me.”

Aragorn grinned before looking seriously at his cousin, “You have to let it go, Halbarad. I need you too much to have you distracted and plagued by guilt. Rebecca would do it again even if it cost her life. I know her well enough to know that. And, perhaps,” Aragorn looked thoughtful, “this is why she is here.” He clasped Halbarad on the shoulder, “Are you going to be all right?”

“I believe so,” his eyes twinkled slightly, “besides now I can blame you.”

Aragorn cuffed him lightly on the shoulder, “I need sleep, cousin and we have a long walk ahead of us, come on.”

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas awoke very early in the morning. He didn’t know if the sun was up or not because it was still fairly dark, but it was always twilight so it was hard to tell. The rangers had put him in a tent with Aragorn and his brothers, but he had no idea if they had even come in last night as he had immediately fallen asleep out of pure exhaustion in spite of his worry for Rebecca. Stretching his arms carefully he almost gasped aloud at the pain and stiffness in his shoulders, arms, and wrists. Slowly moving his legs under his blanket he could feel the stiffness there too, though it was not as intense as his upper body. Still, he needed to get up so he wormed his way out from underneath the blanket trying to move as quietly as possible.

“Thomas?” Aragorn’s rough, sleepy voice broke the stillness of the morning.

“Yes, Aragorn?”

“Where are you going? How do you fare?”

“What? Oh, just out… to walk I guess. I was awake and… Don’t you trust me? I said I would wait for Legolas and Gimli,” Thomas said angrily.

“Peace, Thomas,” Aragorn said with a weary sigh, sitting up and stretching. “It is yet an hour before dawn and truly I just wondered if you were well.”

“I’m sorry, Aragorn,” he said, trying to see him through the gloom of the tent, but seeing only a shadowy figure sitting across the tent. “I’m very sore and stiff, but other than that I’m all right.”

“No wounds, no stitches needed this time?”

“Just some little nicks here and there,” Thomas shrugged. “Though, I don’t know how that is possible, I did some pretty stupid things yesterday.”

“So I heard.”

Thomas hung his head, “I’m glad Boromir didn’t see me,” he whispered.

“Boromir would be as proud of you as I am.” Thomas jerked his head up and stared at Aragorn through the light filtering in through the canvas tent. “You have done remarkably well and you are still alive when many are not,” Aragorn’s voice was full of sorrow.

"Did-did you lose many of your rangers?"

"Six, and five more are wounded, though none seriously except for Rebecca."

"I'm sorry, Aragorn, I know you were close to all of them."

Aragorn nodded, "Yes. I have been at many of their weddings and I know all of their wives and most of their children. The Dúnadain are a small tightly-knit group of people, Thomas and I am their Chieftain. We have had to depend on each other for hundreds of years as we have fought against the darkness." He paused and cleared his throat. "But we are not the only ones who lost men, Éomer lost close to two thousand of his men, dead and wounded. Then there are the Swan Knights, the city guardsmen, and the other Gondorians. It was a costly battle." Thomas could now clearly see the sorrow on Aragorn's face.

"And it's not over, is it?"

Aragorn shook his head, "No."

"What happens now?"

"We will decide later this morning. Right now I am going to find something to eat and go check on Rebecca." Aragorn stood gracefully to his feet and gazed down at Thomas for a moment as the young man stared at the ground. "You will not sleep any more this morning, will you?" Thomas shook his head. "You might as well come with me then." Thomas scrambled to his feet. "You do have to eat first, Thomas," Aragorn said sternly.

"I'm starving, I didn't eat much yesterday," Thomas said as he followed Aragorn out of the tent which was close to the black wall of the city and just west of the gate.

"I heard that too."

Thomas snorted. "As busy as you were, you sure heard a lot about me."

"Halbarad was very concerned," Aragorn replied heading towards the gate.

"I thought we were going to eat."

Aragorn glanced at him from the corner of his eye, "They serve better food at the Houses of Healing, unless you would really rather eat dried meat again." He looked at Thomas questioningly, but he quickly shook his head. Aragorn again wrapped his cloak tightly around himself as they climbed through the streets where men were already at work removing bodies and others were pushing carts down and out on to the Pelennor to begin the same task. Reaching the Houses, Aragorn escorted Thomas into the dining hall where they both quickly ate a large bowl of hot porridge and some bread before heading to see Rebecca.

Thomas couldn't believe how good Rebecca looked. Well, at least compared to the last time he had seen her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he stared at her as Aragorn talked with Elrohir and the main thing he noticed was that Rebecca's face had returned to its normal coloring. Except for a few scratches on her face and hands and the bandages that were clearly visible under her shirt, she just appeared to be sleeping normally. He gently slipped his hand under her left one, being careful not to raise her hand more than a fraction off the bed, he didn't want to cause her any pain. Gently caressing the hand he just watched her for any sign of movement.

"Has she stirred at all?" Aragorn glanced from Rebecca back to Elrohir.

"No, and no sign of a fever either."

"Do you think I should try and wake her?" Aragorn glanced between Elrohir and Elladan who had silently entered the room, looking unnaturally tired for an elf as he had been helping the healers all night. "So that she can then slip into a natural sleep instead of this unconscious state," he waved at her still body.

"You could even push her into a healing sleep, Estel and it would be better," Elladan pointed out.

Aragorn nodded, slipping into elvish so Thomas would not understand, ["I will do so, though I fear we shall not be here long and of course I cannot just leave her in a healing sleep."]

["Are we leaving Minas Tirith?"] Elrohir asked with a look of concern as he glanced at Rebecca.

["It has not been decided, but I do not see what other choice we can make. I will need both of you later as we discuss this; maybe you can see another path."] Aragorn shook his head with a weary sigh. ["But about Rebecca, should I wake her?"]

["I believe you should, she has been unconscious for a long time and if we do indeed leave, then I would like to be here when she first awakes to make sure all is well with her,"] Elladan replied and Elrohir nodded in agreement.

Thomas had been so focused on watching and listening to Rebecca breath that he hadn't even noticed when they had switched to elvish or when they stopped talking. He started when Aragorn laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and he looked up.

"I am going to wake
oded through her and her eyes flew open and locked with Aragorn's.

"Am-am I going to die?" she whispered. "I hurt..."

"No!" he and Thomas both said at the same time and then Aragorn continued. "You are not going to die. Though, we were very worried about you yesterday." Aragorn glanced up at Thomas and his brothers and she followed his gaze to see their concerned looks. Trying to decide how much to tell her at this point, Aragorn decided just to tell her of the actual injuries. "You are in so much pain because you were shot with two arrows, here and here." He pointed and Rebecca tried to follow with her eyes without moving too much. "The one in your arm broke it as well." Her eyes widened. "You were also," Aragorn took a deep breath and swallowed hard, "sliced open by an orc's sword from here to here." He drew an imaginary line from her shoulder down to her stomach. Her eyes became even more frightened.

"How did I survive, Aragorn?" she whispered.

"I do not know," he said honestly his grey eyes sober and thoughtful. "The grace of the Valar, the skill of the elves," Aragorn glanced at his brothers, "It..."

"The skill of a king," Elrohir interrupted him.

"All of those things, Lady Rebecca," Elladan finished for his brother. "Yet you still have much healing to do and your recovery will take time. I think she has had enough for now, Estel, she needs her rest."

Aragorn nodded, "We must give her something for her pain before I help her sleep." Elladan turned to the table and began searching through the healing supplies for the herbs he would require and sent Elrohir for hot water.

Thomas hesitantly approached the bed and tapped Aragorn on the shoulder, "Can I sit with her for a minute, Aragorn before she sleeps again?"

"Yes, but Rebecca you are not to talk too much," he said sternly though his eyes were warm as he looked at her before rising and crossing to his brother.

Sinking down onto the bed, Thomas carefully picked up Rebecca's hand his eyes never leaving hers. "I was so worried for you, when you fell in the battle I was sure you were dead." He shook his head unable to get those images from his mind. "I'm sorry that you are in so much pain," he whispered. "You should have stayed in Lothlórien," he said with a very small smile.

"I would do it again," she whispered, glancing at Aragorn.

"Do what?"

"Push Halbarad out of the way."

"Is that what Aragorn meant?"

"Yes, an orc was coming and..."

"Rebecca," Aragorn growled, turning and staring at her.

She smiled sheepishly and Aragorn turned back to what he was doing with a sigh.

"You saved his life?" Rebecca gave a small nod. "You seem to be getting good at this sort of thing." She shrugged and winced at the intense pain that shot through her and left her gasping for breath. Aragorn was quickly at her side and shooing Thomas back.

"What did you do?" She couldn't answer him and he looked at Thomas.

"She shrugged her shoulders."

"Rebecca, I think you are going to need to lie very still for the next several days, at least until the collarbone bruising eases and the stitches start healing somewhat. Elladan has done what he can for you, but he has given much of his strength this past night to others as well and it will be several days until he is replenished enough to help you again." Rebecca nodded and looked past Aragorn to the tall elf not having realized that when he gave to her it took from his own strength. "I want you to drink this, it will help with your pain and then I will help you sleep."

"Will I go back to that black place?" Rebecca shuddered involuntarily.

"No," Aragorn said soothingly, "this will be like your normal sleep only it will be deeper and will allow your body to heal more quickly. Do you remember when I pushed you into sleep after Helm's Deep?" Rebecca nodded slightly. "It will be like that, do not be afraid," he smiled gently and Elrohir once again helped her sit and she drank the hot, bitter tasting tea. When she was finished, Aragorn placed his hand on her forehead, "Close your eyes, Rebecca." As she did so, he closed his as well and then carefully pushed her into a deep healing sleep. Opening his eyes, he looked her over once more, kissed her gently on the brow and then stood looking to his brothers.

"Elladan, Elrohir, I need you to come to the discussion I am having with Gandalf and the others." Aragorn said before gazing at Thomas thoughtfully. "Thomas, would you like to stay with Rebecca, at least for now?" Thomas's face brightened. "She will not awake this day, but perhaps you would like to sit with her and maybe you could sleep as well. Pippin and Merry will be around and I am sure Gimli and Legolas will come up later."

"Yes, sure, of course I will stay with her," Thomas said eagerly. "What else would I do anyway?"

"Then I will tell the aides that you are here and they will check in on Rebecca occasionally. If anything changes, go and get one of them immediately." Thomas nodded. "However, I do not want you to stay in here all day, go out and enjoy the gardens... or something." Aragorn shrugged not really sure what else Thomas could do, but knew it would not be good for him to just sit in here all day. Thomas nodded again, though he really was not listening to the last part of what Aragorn was saying.

With a last glance at Rebecca, Aragorn followed his brothers out the door leaving Thomas sitting on the edge of the bed gently holding her hand.


To be continued...

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Elvish Translations:

Mae Govannen - Well met
Mellon nín - My friend
Muindor nín - my brother

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Author's notes: How did you think I could kill Rebecca? This part of the story was planned before I started writing the story, so it had to happen.

One of the meanings of the word 'lifeless' is: the appearance of being dead. I was very careful in the choice of words I used at the end of the last chapter.

Several people mentioned that because Rebecca said 'good-bye' to Legolas that they knew she was going to die; well if you look back she did the same thing with Aragorn before the battle at Helm's Deep. She is just conscious of the fact that she could, in fact die.

Also, in case you were wondering why no one stopped to help her during the battle, it was just something they did not or could not do during a battle like that. There are no medics, no Red Cross in those situations, if you stopped to help someone you probably just died yourself. In fact in the paragraph above where Rebecca fell, I mentioned Aragorn seeing a ranger falling and not being able to go to him. I can't promise there won't be anymore cliff-hangers; you'll have to wait and see!

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Reviewer Responses:

Thanks to all who reviewed!


Chapter 23 - Preparations

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.

Words in […] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 23 - Preparations

Aragorn stared unseeingly at the canvas wall of the tent as he sat waiting for Éomer and Imrahil to arrive so they could begin their discussions. Gandalf and his brothers were looking at maps, but he had no need to study them, the terrain had changed little since he had led patrols in Ithilien forty odd years ago. His mind wandered to Frodo and Sam and his brow furrowed as he pondered the information Faramir had shared with Gandalf. Aragorn could not understand how Frodo had come to trust Gollum and why they were taking the path through the Morgul Vale and Cirith Ungol. The rumors of that place and the dark terror it contained were enough to frighten even the bravest man – himself included. Still, as far as they could tell, the hobbits were still free or Sauron would have revealed himself in his full power. Aragorn sighed and looked up as the tent flap opened and Laegrist stuck his head in.

“My lord, Prince Imrahil and Lord Éomer are here to see you.”

“Send them in.” Aragorn shook his head at this sudden need to have guards posted, but both Gandalf and Halbarad had insisted on it. He supposed it was something he would need to get used to if and when the dark lord was cast down, but he chaffed at the loss of privacy and freedom. Aragorn thrust those thoughts aside as Éomer and Imrahil entered.

Aragorn nodded in response to their greetings as he took in their exhausted appearance and especially Éomer’s grief-stricken eyes which he knew probably mirrored his own. The loss of his men was something he did not have time to deal with now, but it was there nonetheless. But Éomer had lost someone who was as a father to him and that grief and the additional burden of becoming the King of Rohan was adding to his exhaustion. Aragorn looked to Gandalf as the wizard started speaking, his voice grim and his eyes shadowed.

“I fear we have only two options. We can sit here and wait for Sauron to send another horde of his orcs and men against us or we can go and confront him.”

“Ride against Mordor?” Imrahil asked incredulously, glancing from face to face. “We do not have enough men to defeat him.” Aragorn and his brothers looked at him impassively, only Éomer looked as if he agreed, though he remained silent.

“Has Denethor been successful by remaining behind his walls?” Gandalf asked. Imrahil shook his head. “In any case, we cannot defeat Sauron by strength of arms either here or there.” Imrahil and Éomer looked at him in confusion, but Gandalf turned to Aragorn. “Am I correct in assuming that you revealed yourself to Sauron?”

“Yes, I used the palantir before we left Helm’s Deep. I felt it wise to draw his gaze away from his own lands and away from,” Aragorn hesitated briefly as he glanced at Éomer and Imrahil, “the Ring-bearer.”

Gandalf nodded, “I thought as much. I believe he fears that you have the Ring and if we march on his gates all of his attention will be drawn to us.”

“Pardon me, my lords,” Imrahil inquired, “but what is this ring you speak of?”

“It is Sauron’s Ring of power that was cut from his hand by Isildur three thousand years ago,” Gandalf replied. “It was lost for thousands of years and is now in the hands of Frodo Baggins, a hobbit of the Shire.”

“Many things that have been lost seem to be turning up,” Imrahil commented wryly, glancing at Aragorn who inclined his head.

“Our Fellowship set out from Rivendell to take the Ring to Mt. Doom to destroy it,” Aragorn explained, “and…”

“You brought Rebecca knowing it would be such a dangerous journey?” Éomer looked at Aragorn in disbelief.

“Rebecca and Thomas’s tale is for another time, Éomer,” Aragorn said, giving him a sharp look. Éomer nodded and stared down at his feet as Aragorn continued. “Frodo, the Ring-bearer and his companion, Samwise, left our Fellowship on the 26th of February at the Falls of Rauros. Faramir saw them in Ithilien ten days ago. They were still on their way into Mordor at that time.”

“Our only real hope is if they destroy the Ring,” Gandalf said looking at Imrahil and Éomer. “If we ourselves perish and the Ring is destroyed, then the people left behind will have a chance of peace and to live in freedom.”

Elladan spoke up, “[Adar] felt that this course of action would be necessary, Aragorn. I know he would counsel you so.”

Aragorn nodded, “I believe we should follow the counsel of Gandalf, his wisdom has never led me astray.” He turned and looked at Éomer questioningly. “I will follow you, my brother, wherever you lead,” Éomer said quietly, “though I do not know how many men I can bring with me knowing the forces that are still in Anórien and threatening Rohan.”

“We cannot leave the city unprotected,” Imrahil pointed out.

“We will not,” Aragorn looked at Imrahil searchingly, “And do you support this decision? I would have us all of one accord if possible.”

“My Lord King, I will follow your commands whatever they be,” a slight smile tugged at his lips before he sobered. “Truly though I see no other options before us.”

They turned then to the matter of the men they would take and when they would leave. Knowing that the men and horses needed some rest, they agreed to spend one more day in Minas Tirith and to set out at dawn the following day. Éomer would supply 1,000 men; only 500 on horse as so many horses had been lost during the battle. Imrahil would provide 3,500 foot soldiers – from the city guard and his own troops, and an additional 500 on horse – his Swan Knights and others of the city who were horsemen. And Aragorn would bring 2,000 men from the Gondorians who had sailed with him from the south. Another 3,000 Rohirrim under Marshal Elfhelm were to head north to fight the enemy in Anórien the Rohirrim had snuck around on their way to Minas Tirith. The city would be protected by the rest of the city guard and by the thousands of additional men Aragorn had sent marching from the south. Even now some of the smaller, slower ships and barges were arriving at the Harlond carrying men and horses.

At last, their discussions and decisions finished they leaned back and looked at each other with various expressions of sorrow or disbelief and it was Imrahil who started chuckling quietly as he shook his head. “7,000 men against the forces of Mordor, my lords. It shall go down in the history books as one of the noblest, bravest sacrifices in the annals of Gondor… or the most foolish.” Having said that, he stood bowed deeply to Aragorn and left the tent.

Aragorn also made for the opening of the tent followed by the others, but he turned and glared at his brothers. “You both need to sleep; even elves need rest and Elladan you seriously depleted yourself last night.”

Elladan and Elrohir just stared at him with eyebrows raised, but Aragorn did not back down under their steely regard and finally Elladan inclined his head a fraction. “With the battle ahead it might be wise to take some rest,” he acknowledged. Aragorn looked at Elrohir. “I will rest soon,” he promised.

“Today?” Aragorn pushed him to commit knowing that ‘soon’ was a very vague term for an elf.

“Yes, Aragorn,” Elrohir gave a long-suffering sigh, though there was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “You do realize that Elladan and I are the older brothers, do you not?”

“Yes, and sometimes they need to be taken care of as well,” Aragorn replied as he slipped out of the tent.

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Starting awake at the sound of the door opening, Thomas smiled sleepily at Merry as the hobbit crept quietly into the room followed closely by Pippin. They stared down at Rebecca for a moment and then turned to where Thomas sat leaning back against the wall near the head of the bed.

“Hello, Merry, Pippin,” Thomas said fighting back a yawn as he looked Merry up and down taking in his sling and bandaged arm. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you, but…” his voice trailed off as he realized he should have taken a moment to check on his friend.

The hobbits sat down beside him and Merry took Thomas’s hand in his uninjured one, “Don’t be worrying about things like that, Thomas,” he scolded gently. “I’ve just now gotten up and about and you need to be here with Rebecca, I had Pip with me. And it looks like you needed to sleep.”

“How is she doing?” Pippin craned his neck to try and see her around Thomas.

“I think she’s doing all right. Aragorn called her awake this morning…”

“Like he did to you, Merry,” Pippin interrupted.

Thomas smiled at Pippin, “I don’t know, but anyway she awoke and we talked to her for a few minutes. She’s in a lot of pain, but he gave her that special tea,” he grimaced. “Then Aragorn sent her into a healing sleep about,” he glanced out the window, “six hours ago... I slept a long time. Anyway, she won’t wake up until he calls her back. At least I don’t think so, but when he put her in one after Helm’s Deep he had to wake her up.”

“Oh,” Merry said with a frown, “I wanted to talk with her, but I’m sure this is what’s best.”

“She can’t even move, Merry, without pain,” Thomas whispered staring at the floor, “so this keeps her still at least.” Pippin patted his shoulder.

The door opened again and Gimli and Legolas stepped inside and after quick nods to Thomas and the hobbits they crossed to the bed and gazed down at Rebecca.

“She is much improved,” Legolas said softly, touching her forehead briefly. Gimli grunted in agreement and there was a pleased look in his eyes. Legolas turned to the others, “Come out to the garden so we may talk without disturbing Rebecca.” The hobbits got to their feet, but Thomas stayed where he was. “You too, Thomas,” Legolas said holding his hand down as Gimli and the hobbits disappeared out the door. Thomas hesitated for a brief moment and then grabbed Legolas’s hand and let the elf pull him to his feet. There was nothing he could do for Rebecca right now anyway.

“Will someone stay with her?” Thomas asked as they walked out the door. Legolas nodded to an aide across the hallway and she entered the room behind them.

The five of them sat on the grass under a tree in the garden and shared all that had happened since they had last been together and it was hard for Thomas to realize it had only been a week. Gimli and Thomas refused to talk about the Paths of the Dead so Legolas told Merry and Pippin about that part of their journey, but they did share the other details of their long exhausting journey to Pelargir. Merry told of his ride with Éowyn and the Rohirrim and how they had to sneak around through the woods to avoid a huge force of orcs before they arrived at the city. He gave only a few brief details of their encounter with the witch king. Pippin talked about his time as a citadel guard and his friend Beregond. He also told them about Faramir and how he had seen Frodo and Sam, but he said very little about how Faramir had come to be in the Houses of Healing, only that Denethor had tried to kill his son.

They were all quiet for a time until Thomas spoke up, “You know, I think this is the first day we have not had to paddle, or run, or ride, or fight since Lothlórien. It’s like a vacation,” he smiled until he noticed their blank looks and he sighed. “In my world a vacation is like a holiday… a break from your regular work.” He could tell none of the others understood him. “Maybe an example… I work on a horse ranch, right?” They all nodded. “All year I work hard, but two weeks of the year my boss lets me go do something else… something fun… like to a lake to go fishing and swimming.” Thomas saw dawning comprehension though there was still confusion. “I still get paid and everything. Anyway, I just meant that today it was nice not to have to go and do something and to just relax,” he finished weakly.

Legolas smiled, “Thomas you are so much a part of us that I often forget you come from elsewhere and then you tell us something like that.” He shook his head, “It is nice to have a day to rest in this garden even though I know,” his gaze became piercing as he looked at Thomas, “our battle is far from over.”

“Has Aragorn decided what he is going to do, Legolas?” Pippin asked with a worried frown.

“I have not heard, he was speaking with Gandalf, Éomer, Imrahil, and his brothers as Gimli and I came up here. Perhaps Lord Elrohir can inform us,” Legolas glanced up at the elf that had silently approached.

“Estel has not given me leave to speak of our decision,” Elrohir said as he glanced around the group before gracefully sinking down onto the grass between Merry and Thomas. “However, I know he will be much occupied this day and the word is already spreading in the city, so perhaps it is best if I tell you directly. We will be marching out the day after tomorrow with 7,000 men to assault the Black Gate of Mordor.” Elrohir’s voice was emotionless as he said this last and his gaze was fixed on Thomas who gasped quietly along with the hobbits.

“Is everyone going?” Thomas asked.

“All of Estel’s men are,” Elrohir confirmed and Thomas nodded before staring down at the grass.

“C-can we defeat them?” Pippin asked in a very small voice.

“I know not, Master Peregrin,” Elrohir said gravely. “Our chief aim is to draw Sauron’s attention so that Frodo and Samwise have time to destroy the Ring.” He turned to Thomas, “I have come to remove your stitches.” Thomas looked down at his hands in surprise and then touched the stitches on his face. The bandages on his face had come off the day before when he had removed his helm and he had forgotten to have it replaced. “I noticed this morning that they needed to be removed. Turn this way.” Singing briefly over his hands, Elrohir started to pull the stitches from each hand while the conversation continued around them. Lost in thought about leaving Rebecca alone in Minas Tirith, Thomas barely noticed when Elrohir began removing the ones on his face. He glanced up at Hinluin as the young ranger came running over to their group.

“How is Rebecca?” he panted.

“She is doing well,” Legolas replied. “Lord Aragorn put her in a healing sleep this morning.”

Hinluin nodded and gave Thomas a smile, “Lord Aragorn sent me to bring Thomas and to ask Legolas and Gimli to come down to speak with him.”

“As soon as Lord Elrohir is finished with Thomas, we will come,” Legolas replied after he glanced at Gimli who nodded.

“What about us?” Pippin asked.

“I believe it is time for Master Merry to be back in bed,” Elrohir said as he looked the hobbit over. Merry nodded.

“I guess I could go with him for awhile and I do have guard duty later,” Pippin said rather glumly.

Applying a salve and a light bandage to Thomas’s face, Elrohir declared him ready to go and the five of them headed to the Pelennor while the hobbits returned to Merry’s room.

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Talking with Imrahil, Aragorn saw Thomas, Legolas, Gimli and Hinluin approaching and gave them a brief nod before turning his attention fully back to the Prince.

“These are Faramir’s top rangers, my lord,” Imrahil said as he turned and beckoned the men forward.

Aragorn looked them over carefully, seeing that they moved like men used to moving stealthily through the forest and that they were dressed similarly to his own rangers only in muted greens and browns instead of silvery-grey. Imrahil introduced them,

“This is Captain Mablung, Lieutenants Anborn and Damrod, and two of their top scouts, Rilost and Beraid.” Each of the men bowed and murmured greetings to Aragorn. The one thing that struck Aragorn the most was the youth of the two scouts, they appeared to be no older than Hinluin. But then he realized that Ithilien was probably even a more dangerous place than the northern wilds of Eriador and that he would find most of these rangers in the south were younger than his.

“Captain Mablung, how many rangers do you have available?” Aragorn asked.

“About one hundred fifty that can travel with us, my lord King,” Mablung replied, pursing his lips as he studied the ground.

Aragorn narrowed his eyes in thought, “I will need your men as scouts since you know the area, though I would like a few of my men to accompany yours.” Mablung nodded. Aragorn caught the dismayed glances Rilost and Beraid exchanged and smiled inwardly before saying, “My rangers may not know the area, but I assure you that they are quite capable in the woods.” He heard Halbarad snort while the two young scouts stared at the ground. “I would like you to work with Captain Caladithil and Gilost…” he paused and looked away for a moment when he remembered that Gilost had died. Looking back at Mablung and seeing understanding in his eyes, he cleared his throat and continued quietly, “Not Gilost, but Hinhael.” Aragorn gestured to the two rangers. “Do we have scouts out now?” he turned to Imrahil questioningly.

“Yes, my lord. I sent men out this morning, but forgot to mention it to you, things have been rather busy.”

“I had noticed,” he said dryly. With a nod to Caladithil and Mablung, Aragorn turned to Thomas and the others. Imrahil moved to leave as well, but Aragorn called him back. “Imrahil, I would have you meet my companions. This is Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, Gimli son of Gloin, and another of my wards, Thomas son of Morgan.” Imrahil started at that, but recovered smoothly.

“Prince Legolas, Gimli, Lord Thomas,” he bowed and they all bowed in return with various greetings. Imrahil looked at Aragorn and asked hesitantly, “My Lord King, how many wards do you have?”

Aragorn chuckled, “Just two, both of them lost their parents and have come into my keeping.”

Imrahil looked at Thomas intently for a long moment with his head slightly cocked. Thomas returned his gaze steadily though he shifted nervously under the scrutiny wondering why he was staring since he knew he looked and dressed much the same as anyone else now. Even his hair was almost the same length. Finally, Thomas cleared his throat and asked, somewhat hesitantly as he was so unfamiliar with the terms and etiquette, “My Lord Prince, is there something wrong?”

Shaking his head, Imrahil gave Thomas a faint smile, “No, my lord, forgive me,” and he turned back to Aragorn leaving Thomas totally confused. “How fares the young lady?”

“She is recovering,” Aragorn glanced at Thomas.

“Yes… my lord, she was sleeping peacefully when I left.” Thomas ignored the eyebrow Aragorn raised when he said ‘my lord’.

“I am glad to hear it. I will take my leave of you now, my lords,” Imrahil bowed and walked briskly away followed closely by several of his Swan Knights.

“Why did he stare of me like that?” Thomas asked Aragorn, staring after the Prince in confusion.

“I know not,” Aragorn shrugged slightly and shot Thomas a warning glance as there were currently several rangers within earshot. “Legolas, would you go and take charge of our horses? The barges have arrived from Pelargir and I would like you and several others to go and take them to the stables in the city.”

“Of course, [mellon nín.]”

“Hah, Thomas,” Gimli grunted, “I told you Aragorn would get you your horse.”

“Is Baldor here?” Thomas looked at Aragorn hopefully.

“All of our horses are supposed to be here, so I assume he is. I want you to go with Legolas. Hinluin, Alvist and…” Aragorn glanced around, “… Laegrist may go as well.”

Halbarad cleared his throat, “Laegrist is on guard duty, my lord.”

Aragorn glared at his cousin and then sighed, “Faerlain, then.”

Gimli stayed with Aragorn deciding he would be of little use with the horses, and Legolas, Thomas, and the three rangers set off immediately for the Harlond dock. They stuck to the main road which had already been cleared of bodies and debris. Thomas kept his eyes focused on the horizon as much as possible, trying to ignore the horrific sights surrounding him.

At the docks they found their horses had already been unloaded and were penned off to one side. As they approached, Thomas searched for Baldor and broke into a huge grin when he saw the horse. Baldor was not particularly happy to see him, pulling away and acting as if he had never even seen Thomas before, but Thomas didn’t mind he just started speaking quietly and settling the horse down. It seemed some things never changed.

The tack had been piled near the horses and it took a long time to separate and match saddles with horses. The three rangers knew which saddle went with which horse, but it took a couple of hours to sort and saddle each of the thirty some horses. When all were ready, they tied long lead lines on the spare horses and mounted their own for the five mile trip to the stables in Minas Tirith. Some of the horses became difficult to control as they crossed the Pelennor, the smell of blood and the burning of orc bodies made them nervous, but they eventually arrived at the stables just inside the city gates where they stripped the tack off and left the horses.

The sun was disappearing into the west as they left the stable. Returning to the encampment, Legolas and the rangers disappeared in the direction of their tents leaving Thomas alone. He poked his head cautiously into his tent knowing that Elladan and Elrohir had both been sleeping earlier, but no one was there now. Frowning, he looked around to see if there was someone he could tell or ask if he could go up and see Rebecca, but now he couldn’t even see Legolas. He knew Aragorn would be upset if he just left and he let out a sigh of frustration. Thomas plopped down to sit on the ground in front of the tent realizing he was also hungry and he wondered if he should eat or wait and maybe get something hot at the Houses of Healing. Voices made him look up and he scrambled to his feet as Aragorn, Halbarad, and Laegrist approached. As he looked at Aragorn, Thomas realized that, for today at least, his exhaustion and grief made him look old.

“Thomas, did the horses get to the stables?” Aragorn asked abruptly.

“Yes, my lord, we…”

“Thomas,” Aragorn growled, “I told you before not to call me lord.”

“I know, but I thought with these princes and lords and now you will be king,” Thomas shrugged.

“It might be a good idea,” Halbarad suggested.

Aragorn turned furious grey eyes on Halbarad. “I will not have those I consider my… family and friends call me lord,” he hissed angrily. “I wish you would not call me it either, but I know I cannot change you.” Aragorn paused and sighed in frustration. “Halbarad, I already have to adjust to having guards,” he gestured to Laegrist, who was standing just out of earshot, “and I know things will change even more should we prevail. But I will not change in this, cousin, do not ask me to.” His voice had gotten quieter as he finished and the look he gave Halbarad was almost pleading for understanding.

Halbarad nodded slowly as he responded, “No more roaming the woods alone, no more freedom to go when and where you choose.”

“I need that part that is just me, Halbarad. Not king, not lord, just Aragorn, or Estel, or even Strider.”

“All right… Aragorn,” Halbarad smiled faintly.

Thomas watched the interaction quietly, suddenly understanding the enormous change becoming king would be for Aragorn. “Aragorn,” he asked hesitantly, “do you have to become king? Can’t you just go home if you want to when this is done?”

Aragorn frowned, but his eyes softened as he saw the genuine concern in Thomas’s eyes. He put his arm around the young man’s shoulders and steered him toward the gate. “I will try and explain as we go to see Rebecca.” Thomas’s eyes lit up and Aragorn glanced back at Halbarad. “It will not get any easier, cousin,” he called and Halbarad reluctantly followed. “It is my duty to become king of this land and people and it will be an honor to serve them. Yes, it will be difficult for me in many ways, though I do know of one benefit for me personally,” Aragorn smiled a small secret smile. “My whole life has been, in various ways, preparing me for this and while I will miss certain things, I will adjust to my life here.”

Thomas laughed quietly, “Adjusting to a new life can be difficult,” he agreed, “but I’m sure you will be fine. At least you will be in the same world and with people you know,” he pointed out.

“I imagine my adjustment will be somewhat easier than yours,” Aragorn smiled slightly in acknowledgement.

“Hopefully,” Thomas shrugged and changed the subject. “Will you wake Rebecca?”

“Yes, for a short time.”

“When will you tell her that we are leaving?”

Continuing their swift pace for several moments, Aragorn’s brow furrowed as he thought, “Tonight. I will push her back to sleep, but tomorrow when I wake her, I cannot. I intend to speak with Faramir and ask him to watch over her and I want her to meet him tomorrow if he is able.”

“Boromir would have liked that,” Thomas said quietly and Aragorn nodded. “Éowyn will be here with her and Merry and Pippin.”

“Pippin is going with us.”

Thomas looked up at Aragorn in dismay, “Why? He’s just a hobbit… I mean he’s so little, Aragorn. He’ll be killed for sure.”

“Peace, Thomas.” Aragorn laid his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “Every race in Middle Earth needs to be represented when we confront Sauron.” Aragorn’s eyes were both stern and full of sorrow.

“Does he know?”

“I will inform him tonight.”

Thomas shook his head, “Not a fun night for you,” he commented.

“Pippin will surprise you,” Aragorn said as they entered the Houses of Healing. “It will be harder on Merry to have him leave. Do you want to eat?” he glanced down at the younger man.

“Later,” Thomas said dismissively.

“I want to speak with Faramir and Merry first. Halbarad, I believe that we could send Laegrist to get a meal while we are here since I have you and Thomas to guard me.”

Halbarad stared at Aragorn with narrowed eyes for a moment and then nodded before motioning the ranger away. Aragorn bit back a smile and proceeded to Faramir’s room where Beregond again stood watch. “Do you know if Lord Faramir is awake?” Aragorn noted that Beregond no longer wore the silver and black of the elite citadel guard, but the simpler black and white of the city guard.

“He was a short time ago, my lord, he was eating supper.” Beregond’s dark eyes swept past Aragorn and looked Halbarad and Thomas over.

“Good,” Aragorn knocked on the door and at the muffled call of ‘enter’, opened the door and walked in. Faramir was seated at a small table eating and started to rise as Aragorn entered. “Sit, Lord Faramir,” he said motioning the Steward to stay seated.

Faramir sat even as he commented, “It is not proper that I should sit while my King is standing, my lord.”

“It is when I am not yet your king and you are injured and obviously tired.” Aragorn said as he noted Faramir’s pale face. He reached for the other chair at the table, “However, as I am weary, I shall sit as well.”

Thomas stopped just inside the door as he got his first glimpse of Faramir; he looked so much like Boromir. There were differences of course, but his hair, eyes, and his mouth were all very similar. And while his voice was softer, there was a distinct tone that reminded him of Boromir. Halbarad nudged Thomas in the back and he stepped into the room standing there uncertainly while thoughts and images of Boromir flashed through his mind.

“Lord Faramir, this is my ward, Thomas and my cousin, Halbarad.”

Thomas and Halbarad bowed and Thomas couldn’t help staring at Faramir again until he noticed the Steward was looking at him curiously.

“Is there something the matter, Lord Thomas?” Faramir asked in a soft, yet strong voice.

Thomas shook his head, “No, my lord, you just… you just look a lot like… Boromir and…” he shrugged helplessly looking from Faramir to Aragorn and back to find Faramir’s eyes closed. “I’m sorry, my lord,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to cause you grief.”

Faramir opened his eyes and Thomas could see they were glistening with unshed tears. “You do not cause my grief, Lord Thomas. You cared deeply for him,” he observed, looking at Thomas intently, his piercing gaze reminding Thomas of Boromir.

Thomas glanced at Aragorn who was frowning slightly and he knew he had to be cautious. “We traveled a long way together and… I don’t know any other way to say this, Lord Faramir, except that Boromir became almost like a brother to me.” He watched Faramir carefully for his reaction.

Nodding, Faramir absentmindedly pushed the food around on his plate before he looked back at Thomas. “I greatly miss my brother,” he said, “and when you return I would like to hear of your journey and the time you spent with him.” Thomas nodded and glanced again at Aragorn who began speaking while Thomas leaned wearily against the wall, rubbing his hands across his eyes.

“Lord Faramir, there is a favor I would ask of you during the time we are gone,” Aragorn began slowly.

“I am ever yours to command, my Lord King,” Faramir replied, “though I do not think the Warden will release me for some days yet.” He frowned and Aragorn could see a hint of worry darken his eyes.

“Be at peace. Another of my wards is here and I would ask that you watch over her. Rebecca will not be up for several days yet, but I would like you to meet her tomorrow when I awaken her. She was also close to Boromir and I know he spoke of you and she wanted to meet you. Though,” Aragorn sighed deeply, “not under these circumstances. There are two other people here in the Houses that Rebecca knows, but I would be comforted knowing that she was under your protection and care.”

“Of course, my lord.” Aragorn could see questions in Faramir’s eyes, but also hesitancy and knew it stemmed from his stormy relationship with his father. You did not ask Denethor questions, you simply obeyed his commands.

Aragorn rubbed his hand along the edge of the table as he began speaking again, his grey eyes never leaving Faramir’s as they regarded each other, each man trying to gain a sense of the other. “Faramir, if I indeed become king, I would always have you ask me any question that you may have. And, I expect you to tell me things that I need to hear. I do not need or want a steward who is not honest in his opinions and who only agrees with me or my decisions. I also considered Boromir a brother and while I know we just met, I do hope that we may become friends.”

Faramir stared at Aragorn searchingly for a long moment and then blinked his eyes and drew a deep breath. “I believe we shall, my lord, and I hope you are serious about me asking questions because I always have many.” He gave Aragorn a guarded half smile.

“So Boromir mentioned. I believe you have some right now about Rebecca.”

“Yes, my lord. Why is she here? How was she injured and how badly? You said she was close to Boromir… in what way?” Thomas straightened up at that and opened his mouth, but Aragorn raised his hand to forestall him and he sagged back against the wall.

“Rebecca is younger than Thomas, Faramir, and Boromir had great affection for her and saw her as possibly a niece or a daughter… as do I.” Thomas blinked at that, having never heard Aragorn say anything like that before, though he realized it made perfect sense. Aragorn continued, “She was injured quite severely during the battle yesterday, in fact we thought she was going to die. As to why she is here, that is a long tale and is something that I will wait and tell you if we…”

“When we return,” Halbarad interrupted.

Aragorn glanced at his cousin and nodded, “When we return.”

“I will wait, my lord.” Faramir glanced up at Thomas, “And is she your sister or… something more?” Thomas saw a faint twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Something more, my lord.” Thomas grinned and as Halbarad coughed suddenly he tried to elbow the ranger in the stomach, but Halbarad neatly side-stepped and his elbow hit the wall instead. “Damn,” he swore softly, rubbing his arm.

Aragorn got to his feet, “We will leave you to your rest. I thank you, Lord Faramir, it will give me peace to know Rebecca will have someone I trust watching over her.” He saw Faramir’s eyes widen slightly at that comment before he replied.

“I will not let you down, my Lord King,” he bowed as they made their way out the door.

“Rest well and we shall return tomorrow evening.”

Walking down the hall to Merry’s room, Aragorn kept a watchful eye on Thomas, suddenly worried about Rebecca’s reaction to meeting Faramir. Based on Thomas’s response it might not go as well as he had hoped, especially as they would be leaving her behind. Still, there was nothing else he could do and he knew he needed to have someone watch over her for his own peace of mind if nothing else. Aragorn suppressed a sigh as they walked into Merry’s room.

Merry and Pippin had just finished supper and Merry was laying back down when they entered. The hobbits greeted them with a smile and Pippin said, “You just missed supper. If we’d have known you were coming we would have saved you something.”

“Not likely,” Thomas retorted with a grin.

“Probably not,” Pippin admitted, “but we would have asked for more food,” he returned Thomas’s grin.

“You would have eaten that too if we had been even a little bit late, Pippin,” Aragorn said, touching the hobbit’s shoulder briefly before moving to the bed and sitting down to check on Merry.

“He’s right, Pip, you would have,” Merry said, glancing at his cousin before looking up at Aragorn.

“How do you fare, Merry?” Aragorn asked as he looked at Merry closely, noting his tired eyes and his too pale cheeks. He placed his hand on his forehead, but it was cool.

“I’m tired and my arm still tingles and aches.”

“Did you rest at all today? Or did you and Pippin spend too much time together?” he frowned and gave Pippin a stern glance.

“I rested all afternoon, Aragorn,” Merry protested. “From right after lunch until Pippin came for supper. And this morning I mostly sat around talking with Thomas, Legolas, and Gimli.”

Aragorn nodded, “Good.” He unwrapped the bandaged arm and massaged it gently, feeling the cold and stiffness that lay within. “Move your fingers, Merry.” He watched intently as Merry moved each finger. “Does that hurt?” The hobbit shook his head. “Well, it feels better on the outside than last night so I have to assume it is just going to take time to heal. If I had more athelas I would bathe your arm in it again, but there is none to be had. Time and rest will have to be enough.”

“Right now I’m just glad it works at all,” Merry whispered. “It was so…” he shuddered. “Thanks, Aragorn.”

Nodding, Aragorn fixed his gaze on Pippin who was standing anxiously nearby. “I also came to talk with you, Pippin. Gandalf and I have decided that when we march to Mordor we should have a representative of each race in our company. As you are…”

“He’s too young,” Merry protested, grabbing Aragorn’s sleeve. Thomas closed his eyes against the anguish he saw in Merry’s.

Aragorn looked down at Merry with eyes full of sorrow. “I am sorry, Merry, but Pippin is also a guard of the citadel now and as such has a responsibility to serve Gondor.” He glanced at Pippin and saw him standing straight and proud in his silver and black uniform. “Pippin, I would like you to come with us of your own free will, but…”

“Of course I’ll go, Strider.” Pippin stared at the floor briefly before meeting Aragorn’s eyes. “I’m part of this Fellowship too and I’ve been nothing but a tagalong and a bother. This is something I can do – represent my people and I won’t let you down. I’ll be all right, Merry,” he said glancing down at his cousin.

“I-I know you will, Pip,” Merry choked out in a tear-filled voice. “You have to go; I just wish I could go with you.”

“Rebecca will be here,” Thomas spoke up. “She’ll need you.”

Merry nodded and turned his face toward the wall. Aragorn patted his shoulder gently and stood to leave. “I will see you tomorrow, Merry.” There was no response and Pippin shot Aragorn an apologetic glance before sitting on the bed and taking Merry’s hand. Without another word the three men left the room.

“That went well,” Aragorn muttered sarcastically as they entered Rebecca’s room. Thomas patted his shoulder as he followed him into the room.

“Merry will be all right, Aragorn. You know he will.”

Aragorn glanced back at Thomas to reply, but his glance fell on Halbarad and he read the unease and guilt on his cousin’s face. Stepping aside to let Thomas pass, Aragorn brought Halbarad to a halt while Thomas rushed to Rebecca’s side. “Did I tell you that you were the first thing she asked about?” Halbarad shook his head. “She will be glad to see you, Halbarad, even if you are vexing at times,” a small smile tugged at Aragorn’s lips.

“It’s seeing her hurt that’s hard, Aragorn,” he replied, ignoring the attempt at humor.

“Yes, but she is alive and she is recovering,” Aragorn walked to the bed.

“I don’t think Rebecca’s moved at all, Aragorn,” Thomas gave him a worried glance. “Is that normal?”

“I sent her very deeply to sleep, Thomas and at that level there would be no movement. I do not want her to move around and further injure herself.” Aragorn moved Thomas aside and sat on the bed taking Rebecca’s small hand in his own large, sword-calloused one. Her coloring was good, temperature normal and he felt that the danger of infection had passed. Placing his hand on Rebecca’s forehead he closed his eyes and called to her.

Rebecca slowly opened her eyes, her eyelids fluttering against the brightness in the room. Focusing her eyes on Aragorn she shifted slightly and then froze as the pain flared. “It still hurts,” she whispered.

“Yes, it will for some time, Rebecca. I am sorry,” Aragorn said with compassion in his eyes as he gently squeezed her hand.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“All day.” Aragorn glanced at Halbarad, “Will you get her some water?”

Rebecca’s eyes followed Aragorn’s and she smiled at Thomas before she saw Halbarad. “Halbarad!” she exclaimed, grimacing at the pain that shot through her. “Are you all right?” she asked in a much quieter tone, looking the ranger over carefully as he handed Aragorn the water which she eagerly drank.

“I’m fine, lady,” he replied gruffly, meeting her eyes for the first time.

“Good,” she smiled warmly, “Aragorn said you were, but I wanted to see you for myself.”

Halbarad cleared his throat, “You-you look better than last night.” He frowned and looked down.

“I imagine so,” she whispered, trying not to think about how she must have looked with the arrows and the long sword gash. She remembered too many other battles and injured men. She glanced at Aragorn and Thomas, “I’m glad I slept through it.” Rebecca narrowed her eyes in thought, “The only thing I really remember is… noise and then… I remember falling. Then there was blackness until I heard Aragorn calling me. I was so worried that I wasn’t going to leave there, Aragorn.”

“It took me a while to find you,” he said, not adding how concerned he had been about not being able to find her in that blackness where her mind had fled. “Now, are you hungry? I think you should eat something before I send you back to sleep, but I will not force it as long as you are drinking water.”

“Is it just dried meat? I don’t think I could eat that, but is there anything else?” she asked hopefully.

“They have soup, Rebecca and I had porridge this morning and bread,” Thomas said. “I’m sure they would have something you would like.”

“Soup,” Aragorn said firmly and Halbarad left the room without a word.

Rebecca watched him go with a puzzled expression before looking back at the other two men and their dark, shadowed eyes and weary faces. “You both look exhausted.”

“There is much work to be done, Rebecca. This was only a single battle and Sauron is not yet defeated.”

“Are you the king now?”

Aragorn shook his head, “No, but I am nevertheless busy helping Gandalf, Éomer, and Imrahil plan our next step.”

“Éomer and not Théoden? Who’s Imrahil?’

Smiling slightly and shaking his head at her endless curiosity, Aragorn replied, “Prince Imrahil is in charge here for now and… Théoden died in the battle. Éomer is the King of Rohan now.”

“Poor Éomer… and Éowyn will be devastated when she hears,” Rebecca murmured.

“Éowyn’s here,” Thomas said. Aragorn glared at him darkly.

“Here? How? Why?” Rebecca’s eyes darted back and forth between the two.

“She and Merry rode in secret with the Rohirrim,” Thomas explained.

“Merry is here too?” her eyes grew large. “And Pippin… Pip was supposed to be with Gandalf. Are they both all right?”

“Calm yourself, Rebecca,” Aragorn said softly, yet firmly. “Pippin is fine and Merry is recovering from a… minor wound in the room next to yours,” he gestured to the left.

“They were both in here this morning to see you,” Thomas said.

“Legolas? Gimli? I forgot to ask about them,” she whispered.

“They are fine,” Aragorn said soothingly, “and very concerned about you.” He sighed and stood, motioning for Thomas to take his place.

Rebecca smiled at Thomas when he took her hand, but her eyes went back to Aragorn, taking in his uneasy stance and slightly worried expression. “What’s the matter, Aragorn?”

He met her eyes steadily for a moment before replying. “We are leaving Minas Tirith the day after tomorrow to march to Mordor.” Rebecca’s grip on Thomas’s hand tightened as Aragorn continued. “All of us, except Merry, will be going.” Tears started rolling down Rebecca’s cheeks, but her eyes never left Aragorn’s. “I know it will be difficult for you, but we have no choice. We have to try and draw Sauron’s eye away from Frodo and Sam and this is the best way to do it.” Rebecca nodded slightly, though she still said nothing. “Merry and Éowyn will be here and…” Aragorn paused briefly, “I have asked the Steward, Faramir, to keep watch over you while I am gone.”

“Faramir? Boromir’s brother?” she asked, her expression a mixture of pain and curiosity. Aragorn nodded.

“Yes, I talked to him this evening and he has agreed.”

“He looks a lot like Boromir, Rebecca,” Thomas said. “Of course there are differences, but it was strange seeing him.” He stared down at her hand and caressed it gently.

“How long will you be… never mind,” she muttered, closing her eyes as tears continued to fall.

“None of us know, Rebecca.” Aragorn crouched down by the bed and stroked her hair gently. Deciding to be totally honest with her, he continued. “If we fail and Frodo succeeds, it will be worth it for all of the free peoples of Middle Earth will survive.” Her eyes shot open, looking at him in horror. “If Frodo fails, you know that there is no place that is safe and I cannot protect you anywhere.” She nodded once. ”This is something that we have to risk, you know that.” Rebecca nodded again.

“If-if Frodo destroys the Ring and you don’t come… if no one comes,” she glanced at Thomas to see tears running down his cheeks and she swallowed hard. Rebecca tried to move, but the pain was too great and she took deep breaths to recover. “In Lothlórien I was to stay there, but what would I do here?” Tears flowed harder.

Aragorn sighed, “Faramir will provide a place for you here, Rebecca. Or, you could go to Edoras with Éowyn, though I think Minas Tirith would suit you better. It will be your decision.” She nodded for the third time.

Silence fell on the room as they considered the uncertainties that lay ahead of them. Rebecca had learned too much in the past weeks to try and extract promises of their return. She also knew, somewhere deep inside of her, that she would be able to survive even the loss of her friends. Though, whether that included Thomas, who was more than a friend, she wasn’t sure.

The creaking of the door signaled the return of Halbarad and they all looked up, slightly relieved as his appearance seemed to ease the tension that had built. He carefully carried the tray over and handed it to Thomas.

“Halbarad and I will help you sit up,” Aragorn said as he motioned his cousin to the other side of the bed. Slowly and gently they slid her into a half sitting position with her right back and side cushioned with pillows and her left shoulder also protected. As gentle as they were, however, she was still left gasping in pain and it was several moments before she opened her eyes and was able to even think about eating.

Thomas immediately started feeding her the soup knowing that she really needed to go back to sleep as soon as possible. Once she started eating, Rebecca found that she was hungry and she ate most of the soup and drank greedily of the water Aragorn helped her with. She found that she could, if she were careful, hold the cup in her left hand and take sips of water by herself. When she finished, Thomas set the tray aside and Halbarad and Aragorn helped her lie down, once again causing her pain.

“I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, Rebecca,” Aragorn said quietly. “But I wanted you to know now so that you will not be overwhelmed tomorrow when you meet Faramir.”

“I understand, Aragorn, truly I do,” her eyes became sad and distant as she looked away. “I understand a lot more about things than I used to,” she said as she returned her gaze to him.

“Yes, you do,” his eyes were also full of sorrow as he looked at her. “I will see you tomorrow night then. Sleep well.” He kissed her brow tenderly before placing his hand on her forehead and sending her to sleep.

The three men looked at each other and Thomas sighed deeply before kissing her hand and standing. “I’m hungry now,” he said and the three of them quietly left the room for a late supper.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn awoke well before dawn and slipped from the tent leaving a lightly snoring Thomas behind. He wondered where his brothers were as they had not been there when he had gone to sleep, though he supposed they could have slipped in and out without him knowing it. He nodded at Faerlain and the ranger followed a short distance behind Aragorn as he walked. He had no particular destination in mind, he just wanted a chance for some quiet time alone before the busyness of the day started. Pushing aside thoughts of the war, since he knew that this day and most of the days following would be devoted solely to that, Aragorn allowed himself the luxury of thinking about Arwen. Sitting on a piece of debris, his mind drifted back to their parting the night before the Fellowship left Rivendell. She had looked so beautiful when she met him near their favorite waterfall. They had had so little time together over the many years of their betrothal that just sitting with her and talking was something that Aragorn treasured. Of course, their talk had eventually trailed off and Aragorn smiled as he remembered both the tender and passionate kisses they had shared that evening.

“Only Arwen can cause a smile like that,” Legolas’s amused voice spoke from just in front of him. Aragorn started and looked up as Halbarad’s quiet chuckle also broke the stillness of the morning.

Aragorn scowled at them briefly before breaking into a sly smile. “Did you need me for something or are you just here to annoy me?”

Sobering quickly, Halbarad responded, “Gandalf and Imrahil are looking for you.”

Nodding, Aragorn got to his feet and stretched before heading swiftly back toward the gate. “I believe I may have to speak with my guards about who they allow to sneak up on me,” he commented, glancing first at Legolas and then Halbarad. Legolas laughed and Halbarad shook his head and gave his cousin a small smile. “Did Gandalf or Imrahil tell you what they wanted to speak with me about?”

“Imrahil said something about food rations and supplies for the men,” Halbarad replied.

“Gandalf wondered if you had talked to Pippin,” Legolas paused. “Is he going with us?”

“Yes,” Aragorn replied, “Gandalf and I believe that we need someone from every race there when we confront Sauron.”

Legolas nodded, though his eyes were troubled.

Aragorn patted his shoulder, “I know, [mellon nín], I know. Will you go awake Thomas and send him to me? I have plans for him today.”

“I can help as well,” Legolas offered.

“Then return with him and bring Gimli as well.” Legolas nodded and veered off towards the tents while Aragorn continued on towards the gate where he could see Gandalf and Imrahil. “Gandalf, Prince Imrahil,” he greeted them.

“My Lord King,” Imrahil bowed, while Gandalf nodded and turned right to business.

“Did you speak with Peregrin last night?”

“Yes, he has agreed to come, though Merry is most distressed.”

“Hmmm, I thought he would be, but it cannot be helped. How is Rebecca?” Gandalf inquired in a much softer voice.

“As well as can be expected, she is also distressed at our leaving, but understands the necessity of it. Her wounds are healing, though she is still in quite a bit of pain. I will introduce her to Faramir tonight.” Aragorn glanced at Imrahil, “I have asked him to watch over her while we are gone.”

Gandalf nodded, “Boromir would be pleased. Now, Imrahil, what is it about the lack of supplies for the men?”

“We are running short on many of the basic food supplies, Mithrandir. Minas Tirith has basically been in a state of siege for months and supplies were already low. Now with the Rohirrim here and the men from the south we are in a difficult situation. They only brought enough food with them for a week or so.”

“We have to take what we need with us,” Aragorn said. “We cannot stop to hunt and even if we had the time, we could not find enough game to feed so many men. Can we send for food from the south? Take what we need with us and leave the city with short supplies and send ships down south for what they will need?”

Imrahil looked doubtful. “We are leaving so many wounded behind, my lord that I hate to see them shorted on food, even for a short time.”

Gandalf snorted. “If we do not succeed, Imrahil, then lack of food for a few days will be of small consequence.” His eyes softened, “Though I do agree that the wounded should get the best of the available food that is in the city and the soldiers stationed here will just have to do with less for a time.” He glanced at Aragorn who nodded.

“I do not see another solution. Please see to it, my Lord Prince and have the towns in the south send as much as they can spare. If… no, when we prevail, it will be a long time before we are fully recovered here in Minas Tirith.”

“My lord,” Imrahil bowed deeply and walked swiftly away.

Aragorn and Gandalf stood in silence for a moment and then Aragorn commented, “Who knew being a king would require me to deal with things such as this?” he smiled slightly.

“I always knew, [muindor nín,] and if you had paid more attention to [Adar], you would have known as well,” Elrohir said from behind him.

Turning, Aragorn saw both of his brothers behind him with twinkles of amusement in their eyes and he shook his head at being snuck up on for the second time in less than an hour, elves or not. “Where have you two been?” he asked, totally ignoring Elrohir’s comment.

“I went up to sing over Rebecca’s wounds,” Elladan said. His grey eyes darkened as he looked at Aragorn, “Though she did not move and was deeply asleep, I sensed her spirit was troubled.”

“Probably so, I told her last night that we are leaving tomorrow.”

The twins exchanged horrified looks, but it was Elrohir who responded first. “You told her already? As injured as she is, when she needs to be putting all of her energy into healing?”

“Estel, you know the first few days are crucial for a patient, why did you do so? Why did you not wait until this evening?” Elladan looked both puzzled and concerned.

Switching to elvish as he saw Thomas approaching, Aragorn tried to rein in his mounting anger. [I did so because I believed it was best for Rebecca. I have to introduce her tonight to Faramir who I have asked to watch over her while we are gone. She was so close to Boromir that that is already going to be difficult for her. For her to meet him, to find out we are leaving and to say good-bye to us, would have been overwhelming for her and I would not do that to her all on one night. Do not question my judgment on this, brothers; you know I would not do anything to harm her.”]

Looking slightly stunned at his outburst, Elrohir said quietly, [“Forgive me, Estel.”]

[“While I still say it could have waited until this evening, I will grant that your reasons are sound and that Rebecca will probably take no lasting harm,”] Elladan did not back down in the face of Aragorn’s anger.

Taking a deep breath and somewhat calmed by their responses, Aragorn nodded and started to turn to Thomas before pausing. [ “Forgive me for responding such to your concerns; I know your concerns for Rebecca are not any less than my own. I am just… never mind,]” he met his brother’s eyes in turn to see understanding there. The elves nodded and Aragorn changed the subject. “What are you doing the rest of the day?”

“We came to see if you needed help,” Elladan replied.

“I do, thank you.” Aragorn finally turned to Thomas who had been watching the three of them curiously, not understanding any of the words, except Rebecca, but understanding the tone and wondering what was causing the anger between them. “Thomas I need you to run errands and other things for me today. Have you eaten?” Thomas nodded. “Good, take Baldor and ride down to the docks and find out which ships have docked, how many men were on them or what the ships carried. Come back as quickly as you can.” Thomas ran towards the stable without having said a word and Aragorn watched him go with a fond look before his eyes hardened and he turned his mind to other tasks.

Thomas spent much of his day on horseback, riding to and from the docks; searching for Éomer to ask him questions for Aragorn; and once tracking down Imrahil who had ridden with some of his Swan Knights to Osgiliath. That encounter had slightly unnerved him as the Prince still made him uneasy. Several times, Aragorn also sent him running up into the city looking for Gandalf, Legolas or one of his brothers. Every time Thomas returned with whatever information Aragorn had requested he seemed to either be surrounded by men waiting to speak with him, or he sat looking at pieces of parchment – usually with a frown on his face. Finally, Aragorn told him to stable Baldor and to return to the tent.

Flopping wearily into a chair between Legolas and Gimli, Thomas watched as Aragorn intently studied the parchment in his hand as his other hand absentmindedly ran through his hair. “You look like you’re cramming for a test, Aragorn,” he observed.

“Cramming?” Aragorn dropped the parchment to the table as he lifted his gaze to Thomas.

“Another word from your world that you need to explain,” Legolas said.

Thomas shrugged, “Studying hard, staying up late, taking notes, doing anything to help you pass a test in school. You just reminded me of someone doing that.”

“This is a test we can’t fail, lad,” Gimli said in a low voice as he fingered his axe.

“No, we cannot,” Aragorn responded as he stood. “However, looking these over one more time is not going to help either. We need to eat and then see Rebecca.”

Suddenly full of energy, Thomas bounced to his feet and darted out of the tent leaving the other three behind.

“I believe he is anxious to see Rebecca,” Legolas said with a small smile.

“He’s just hungry,” Gimli retorted and they chuckled quietly as they followed Thomas up to the Houses of Healing.

After a very light supper due to the food restrictions now in force, Aragorn left his guard, Alvist, behind in the dining hall as they went to see Rebecca. Seeing Beregond posted again at Faramir’s door, Aragorn stopped and inquired, “Does no one else ever stand guard over Lord Faramir, Beregond?”

“Captain Peregrin stood watch earlier today, my Lord King Elessar.”

Aragorn blinked and suppressed a sigh at picking up another name to add to his collection, though this one had been foretold at this birth. Glancing at his companions he saw confusion on Gimli’s and Thomas’s faces and amusement on Legolas’s, but then the elf knew the prophecies that said he would be called ‘Elessar’ – the elfstone - by his people. As soon as he started wearing the green stone Galadriel had given him, it had been inevitable. Aragorn turned back to the matter at hand. “Has Lord Faramir been out of his room today?”

“No, my lord.” Aragorn frowned, wondering if he should even ask Faramir to come down to Rebecca’s room. Beregond looked at him hesitantly, “He has been up and around in his room, my lord. Mithrandir is with him now.”

Nodding, Aragorn moved to knock on the door and then glanced back at the guard, “Are you coming with us tomorrow?”

“Yes, my lord,” Beregond stared at the floor.

“Lord Faramir will be well protected here, Beregond, but I need men of courage with me,” Aragorn said, staring intently into Beregond’s dark eyes as the guard raised his to meet those of his king. Beregond inclined his head a fraction and Aragorn knocked on the door. Stepping halfway into the room at Faramir’s call he motioned for Faramir to remain seated and nodded at Gandalf. “How do you fare, Faramir? Are you able to meet Rebecca this evening? I do not want you to overtax yourself,” Aragorn gave him an appraising look.

“I am quite able to walk down the hall and meet your ward, my Lord King,” Faramir replied in a somewhat clipped tone.

“Indeed he is,” Gandalf agreed standing from his chair. “I believe that he would accompany us in the morning if the Warden allowed it.”

Faramir gave the wizard a tight, thin smile, “It is hard to watch you leave and stay behind to wait for news which will most surely be ill. My uncle and most of my cousins are going with you, of course I would rather go. No matter what happens in the end, I will most likely lose most of the rest of my family.” He stood abruptly walking to the window and staring outside.

As Faramir had been speaking, Aragorn had stepped fully into the room, closing the door and leaning back against it. Exchanging a brief glance with Gandalf, Aragorn cleared his throat and began speaking, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Faramir. “Losing Boromir and your father has been a terrible blow, Lord Faramir, one that I cannot fully comprehend. However, I do understand the pain of sending those you love into this battle knowing the overwhelming odds we face.” Faramir turned from the window and nodded once in acknowledgement. “But even were the Warden to release you, I would not allow you to come.” Faramir straightened up and opened his mouth to protest, but at Aragorn’s suddenly piercing gaze he leaned back against the windowsill, though his eyes glinted with anger.

“If I die and Frodo succeeds in destroying the Ring, there must be a Steward here for the people.” Faramir stared down at his feet. “If I survive, then I will need you. I will not risk your life needlessly in either case.”

“But you will risk your own?” Faramir shot back before taking a deep breath. “Forgive me, my lord,” he said bowing his head and obviously struggling to control himself, “it is not my place to question your decisions.”

Grimacing inwardly at words and reactions that Aragorn knew were once again tied to Faramir’s father, he shrugged, “It is really not my decision, Lord Faramir, the fact is you are wounded. And there is nothing to forgive,” Aragorn waited until Faramir met his eyes before continuing. “I believe you told me yesterday that you always had questions and I told you that I expected and wanted you to ask those,” he smiled faintly.

Faramir sighed, “Yes, you did, my lord, though it may take me some time to… get used to freely asking questions,” he returned Aragorn’s smile tentatively.

“It may,” Aragorn acknowledged, “I pray that we shall have that time.”

“You have both forgotten your Gondorian law,” Gandalf spoke up.

“Which part?” Aragorn asked as his mind tried to sort through the numerous and intricate laws of Gondor. He glanced at Faramir as the Steward began to chuckle.

“The part of the law that states that during the absence of the king the Steward of Gondor may not leave the city during times of war to do battle against the enemy.” Aragorn could see a very faint twinkle of amusement in the wizard’s eyes.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Aragorn turned to Faramir, “Come and meet Rebecca, my Lord Steward.” Opening the door, he found Gimli and Legolas waiting in the hall, while Thomas had disappeared and he looked at them with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Where do you think he went?” Gimli snorted.

“I am surprised you did not go with him.”

“I believe he wanted some time alone with her,” Legolas said with a small smile.

“She is asleep, Legolas!” Gimli looked up at the elf with a scowl.

“It matters not when you are in love, Master Dwarf!”

Aragorn turned to Faramir, “Lord Faramir, these are two more of my companions who set out with me from Rivendell, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood, and Gimli son of Gloin.” The two bowed slightly.

Faramir nodded to Gimli, “Master Dwarf.” Looking up at Legolas he said, [“Mae govannen! Gîl sílerin lû e-govaded vín,” ]and then bowed slightly.

[“Indeed it does, Lord Faramir,”] Legolas smiled as they started to walk down the hall.

“When we have time, would you tell me of Mirkwood?” Faramir asked with some hesitation, but also a hint of eagerness in his voice.

“It would be a pleasure to tell you of my home. Was there something in particular you were interested in knowing about?”

Faramir smiled slightly, “Not any one thing, Prince Legolas, but as much as you can tell me about your home. I know only what I’ve read in books and most of those are very outdated.”

“You could have asked me about Mirkwood if you were that interested,” Gandalf said with a snort.

“We have only seen each other a handful of times over the last three decades, Mithrandir, and seldom had time to speak at all between your spending time in the library and various council meetings,” Faramir shook his head.

Aragorn listened to the interchange between Faramir, Gandalf, and Legolas with amazement, surprised at how relaxed Faramir suddenly appeared. He realized that Faramir would probably continue to be somewhat uneasy around him until he understood that Aragorn was truly not like Denethor and that Aragorn wanted and valued him and his opinions. While Gandalf had mentioned Denethor’s ill treatment of his son, Aragorn could not fathom it and his heart ached for Faramir’s pain. How any man could treat his son such was beyond him.

The door opened as they reached Rebecca’s room and Elladan and Elrohir stepped out. Elladan’s eyes swept over the group before resting on Aragorn, [“Is the whole city coming to visit Rebecca this evening?”]

Aragorn’s eyes narrowed warningly, “I believe we had this discussion this morning, Elladan,” not bothering to respond in elvish since everyone, except Gimli, spoke the language.

“Indeed we did, forgive me, Aragorn,” he inclined his head briefly as Elrohir placed his hand on his twin’s back.

“She is doing well, Aragorn,” Elrohir said, glancing between his brothers. “Elladan sang over her wounds again and we changed her bandages. The wound is healing well and I would not be surprised if she were up tomorrow or the next day.”

“Good,” Aragorn said. He turned to Faramir, “My Lord Steward, these are my brothers, lords Elladan and Elrohir.” The elves bowed and Faramir repeated his elvish greeting, which the twins returned before taking their leave. Pausing before entering the room, he looked at Gimli and Legolas, “Would you two mind waiting in Merry’s room until I introduce Faramir to Rebecca? I do not want to overwhelm her any more than necessary.” Nodding, the two entered the room next door.

Thomas gave Aragorn an apologetic look as he walked in the room, but he just shrugged slightly as he crossed to Rebecca’s bed and Thomas watched as he called her awake once again. He grinned as she focused on him first and a smile spread across her face. “Hello, how do you feel tonight?”

Rebecca’s brow furrowed as she slowly moved her left shoulder and arm. "My left side doesn't hurt too badly," she whispered. "Is there any water?" She glanced around and saw Aragorn, "Hello, Aragorn. Gandalf!" she exclaimed quietly as he moved into her line of sight and handed Thomas the water.

"Good evening, young lady," he said softly, his blue eyes looking at her closely as Thomas helped her carefully drink the water. "You look much better than the last time I saw you." The wizard gently patted her hand.

"I feel better too, Gandalf. Aragorn's healing sleep works very well," Rebecca smiled at Aragorn.

"My brother has also been here twice to sing over your injuries."

"Should he do that? I thought he was tired out... was it yesterday?" she glanced at Thomas who nodded. "I don't want him to get hurt just for me," Rebecca frowned.

Aragorn smiled faintly, "Elladan will be fine, Rebecca and I could no more stop him from healing than I could stop Thomas from coming to see you." He glanced at Thomas from the corner of his eye and saw him redden slightly before the young man looked at him and grinned. Rebecca smiled at the two of them, but a sudden noise made her look around in concern and Aragorn sighed. He took her hand and squeezed it gently, "Faramir is with us, Rebecca."

Her eyes widened and she took a deep breath as all of the things Aragorn had told her the day before came flooding back. "I guess I should meet him then. Do I look all right?" she whispered, biting her lip nervously. For some strange reason, Rebecca wanted to make a good impression on Boromir's brother.

"You look beautiful," Thomas replied, "but your hair is sort of messy." Gandalf and Aragorn exchanged amused glances. Thomas carefully tried to fix Rebecca's hair, though inwardly he was wondering why, since he knew Faramir had seen her when he walked in the door. Still, if it helped her feel better and relax, he was willing to do it. "There," he said with a smile as he finished. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Rebecca watched as Aragorn turned and beckoned to Faramir. She drew in a sharp breath as he approached and regretted it immediately at the pain it caused her back and right side, but she pushed that aside as she looked at Boromir's brother. Thomas was right, Faramir did look a lot like Boromir. At least until you looked in his eyes, where Rebecca could see some type of deep-rooted sorrow. She wondered if it was all grief caused by Boromir's death or something else entirely.

"Rebecca, this is Lord Faramir," Aragorn said quietly as he watched her intently.

"Lord Faramir," Rebecca inclined her head as best she could.

"Lady Rebecca," Faramir bowed.

Glancing at Aragorn nervously, Rebecca said hesitantly, "Boromir told me a lot about you, my lord."

"And what did he say?" his grey eyes were dark as he studied her.

Rebecca swallowed hard and looked away for a moment to blink back the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. "He-he said that I would like you," she whispered, "because like me, you enjoy books and stories, but that you were also a great captain." She stopped and looked away again before returning her gaze to Faramir, "He said other things, my lord, but I think that's all I can say right now."

Faramir nodded, "It is enough, my lady, I did not mean to distress you."

"You did not, Faramir... I mean, my lord. It's just..." her voice trailed off and she looked at Aragorn helplessly.

"Lady Rebecca," Faramir's soft voice called her attention back to him and she looked up to meet his suddenly gentle gaze. "From what Lord Aragorn
s head. "Though Frodo and Sam possess that same courage... and Pippin as well. They seem to be an amazing race, my lord."

"They are," Aragorn acknowledged. "Though, I believe these four are truly unique." He turned to go and then paused, "Faramir, keep safe the city against my return."

Faramir nodded, "I intend to, my lord. I love this city and her people dearly and will fight to the death before I will see her fall. Keep safe, My Lord King Elessar. I believe I would enjoy serving as your steward." Smiling the first unguarded and genuine smile Aragorn had yet seen from him, Faramir bowed deeply before turning and slowly walking back to his room.

Watching him leave with a small smile of satisfaction, Aragorn looked at Rebecca's door before he decided it would be best to visit Merry while he was alone. He found Merry sitting at the small table with his head propped on his good hand and staring at the wall. "Hello, Merry," he said in a low quiet voice.

The hobbit glanced up and then quickly away, "Aragorn."

Aragorn said in the chair across from him without a word and waited patiently for Merry to say something. They sat quietly for several long minutes and Aragorn just stared at the floor, he could sit for hours without moving and he knew that Merry would eventually vent his frustration and that he needed to do so.

Finally, the hobbit spoke up and when he did, he was more restrained than Aragorn thought he would be and he realized that Merry had grown a lot in the months since he had left the Shire. "I still don't understand why Pippin has to go with you, Aragorn. You know how young he is and you know that he probably will be killed and - and it's bad enough that Frodo and Sam are gone and you and Legolas and Thomas and Gimli are going and probably won't come back and Boromir has already died. I just don't understand." Merry never raised his voice, but tears were streaming down his face and Aragorn could hear his anguish.

"I am sorry, Merry." Aragorn steady gaze held Merry's eyes. "I know it is difficult for you, but this battle is for control of all of Middle Earth, not just for Gondor and not just for men. You know if Sauron prevails, then he will march against the Shire eventually and we want someone there to represent hobbits. You cannot go and there is no one else who can. Pippin is right when he says that he is a part of our Fellowship and he is entitled to share in all parts of it, the hardships, the dangers, and the joys. Unfortunately we have had more of the hardships and the dangers thus far. You must have hope that we shall return or that Frodo and Sam will succeed." Aragorn reached out and grasped Merry's hand. "It is all any of us can do, Merry, have hope."

"I can go, Aragorn," Merry begged. "It will take you almost a week to get to the gate from what I heard and my arm should be healed by then. Please take me." He looked imploringly at him.

"I will not," he said firmly. "There may be other dangers along the way and I will not risk you or bring danger to others because of your inability to defend yourself."

Merry hung his head in defeat. "All right, Aragorn, but I had to ask."

"I know," Aragorn stood, "Are you coming to see Rebecca?"

Shaking his head, the hobbit looked up at Aragorn, "No, I'm not leaving so I'll wait and see her tomorrow."

Aragorn nodded and crouched down on one knee. "Be well, Meriadoc," he gazed at him intently for a moment and then hugged the hobbit tightly.

"You too, Aragorn, be safe."

Stepping into the hallway he was surprised to see Éomer slowly pacing up and down, though the king did not notice him as he appeared lost in thought. Aragorn glanced down the hall and saw Beregond looking at Éomer curiously, though he quickly turned away when he caught Aragorn's gaze. Alvist was also waiting down near the main door and while he appeared to be uninterested, Aragorn knew he was totally alert to everything going on in the hallway. He looked back at Éomer, "Éomer?" he asked.

The new king of Rohan stopped dead in his tracks and looked up with a startled expression. "Aragorn! Where did you come from? I did not see you," he glanced around.

Aragorn gave him an amused smile, "No, you did not. What is the matter? Is something wrong with Éowyn?"

"Oh, no, she is doing quite well," he frowned slightly. "At least as well as to be expected. It will be another day or so until the healers allow her to be up, but they expect a full recovery." Éomer looked at Aragorn fully, "We have talked some about her despair, but, frankly, it is hard for me to understand. Still, it appears to help her, so... ," he shrugged.

"Then why were you pacing? Oh," he glanced at Rebecca's room. "She is doing very well, Éomer, but I am sorry I cannot let you see her."

"I am glad that she is recovering," Éomer gave him a relieved look. "I had not heard anything and I was concerned. Is Merry all right as well?"

"Yes, he will be fine."

"Good, I owe him much for what he did for my sister and Théoden." Éomer shifted uneasily, "Since I cannot see Rebecca," he paused and looked away from Aragorn briefly, "and it is probably best if I do not, will you tell her that I came by to wish her well and to say good by?"

"I will tell her that for you, but why... " his voice trailed off as the door opened and Gandalf, Gimli, Legolas, and Pippin walked out and he noticed that Pippin had tears in his eyes that he was rubbing at. Aragorn saw Legolas glance at Éomer with a knowing look and he realized that the elf knew of the horse-lord's feelings for Rebecca, not that he was particularly surprised. "Thomas is saying good bye to her now?" he asked and the others nodded. "Then I will wait," and he leaned back against the wall with a last glance at Éomer.

"If you will give my regards to Lady Rebecca, Aragorn then I shall return to my men," Éomer said. At Aragorn's nod, he turned and walked away.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas sat on Rebecca's bed again as the others left the room, so focused on her that he was barely aware when they left. "I do not want to leave you, Rebecca, but you know that I have to." She nodded. "I'm so scared though," he confessed with a whisper, his brown eyes searching hers so intently that he was startled when he felt her hand gently touch his cheek. The hand dropped after a moment and he saw the slight wince of pain that crossed her face.

"I'm sure everyone is scared, Thomas."

"Maybe, but I think it's worse with me because I keep wondering if-if... well, this is just a guess, but if you were here to save Halbarad and you got so badly hurt, then what do I have to do and what will happen to me?" He stared down at their hands. "I'm such a coward," he mumbled.

Rebecca looked at him in alarm. "No you aren't," she protested fiercely. "Look at me, Thomas. You can't go off to a battle thinking like that or you will be killed for sure. You can't second guess everything you do, you know that. It just happened with Halbarad, that orc came out of nowhere and I was so startled and I just reacted without thinking. Please don't start thinking you are a coward because you know that is not true. Think about all the brave things you have done since we have been here, Thomas," her voice had risen and she was gripping his hand tighter and tighter.

"Ouch," he said trying to loosen her grip. "Calm down, Rebecca. I shouldn't have said anything to you, I didn't mean to get you so stirred up when you need to be resting," he smiled weakly.

"Don't do that, Thomas," she hissed. "I always want you to tell me how you feel and you have to try and let this go. Talk to Aragorn or Legolas... maybe even one of the twins," she closed her eyes briefly to try and calm down. "Besides, you don't even know if you've already done whatever it is you were supposed to do or if it is something way down the road," Rebecca tried to encourage him, though she wasn't sure if it would work.

"I know, Rebecca, I know, but..." he shrugged. "I will try and talk to Aragorn," he promised, "though he is so busy these days. I've been running errands for him all day and he always has people waiting to see him. I don't think he's going to like being the king."

"How can you not like being a king?"

Thomas shrugged. "Well, he's pretty old and he's lived all of his life out in the wilderness. But that's enough about our soon-to-be king," he smiled. "I will miss you, Rebecca and I want you to know how much I love you," his eyes glistened and his face reflected his love and the depth of his feelings for her.

"I love you too, Thomas and I can't imagine how this place would have been without you," her blue eyes filled with tears and then overflowed and started running down her cheeks and into her ears. "Be safe," she whispered.

Thomas leaned forward and kissed her cheeks tenderly, wiping away the tears as he did so. He moved to her lips and gently kissed those as well. He sat up slightly and brushed the hair away from her forehead before kissing her there, finally he lightly kissed the tip of her nose. He sat up with a sigh and just looked her over intently, trying to memorize every feature. Rebecca watched him with a slight smile on her lips and glanced past him as the door opened and Aragorn walked in, though Thomas appeared not to notice.

"I am sorry," Aragorn said quietly, "but Rebecca you need to sleep now."

She looked at him quizzically, "Do you really think I will be able to sleep tonight, Aragorn?"

"I am going to make you something," he gestured to the table where a variety of herbs and healing utensils were piled. "Éomer said to wish you well and to tell you good-bye," he said as he set to work.

Rebecca sighed, "Somebody else I know who is leaving me," she mumbled and Aragorn turned to stare at her for a moment and she changed the subject. "I like Faramir, Aragorn, though he is a lot different than Boromir," she said as she watched him mix up the herbs.

"Yes, though I believe that you will find they are similar in many ways as well. Do not hesitate to go to him for anything that you need or want. He will try and obtain it for you." Aragorn moved to the bed.

"I will." She gazed at Aragorn as he sat on the edge of the bed holding the cup, idly swirling the contents as he studied her.

"Be at peace, Rebecca," he finally said. "I pray that at least some of us will return to you, but if not, I want you to know that I have come to care for and see you as a daughter." Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at him. Aragorn looked at her thoughtfully, "Does that really surprise you?"

"Well... no, I guess not, now that I think about it, but it never really crossed my mind," she ducked her head, not able to put her own feelings for Aragorn into words.

Aragorn smiled inwardly at her embarrassment and then tilted her chin up and handed her the cup, "You need to drink this." He helped her to drink it all and then he and Thomas helped her lie down and they fixed the blankets around her. Aragorn kissed her brow and started for the door.

"Aragorn," she whispered as he looked back, "be careful, I don't want to lose you, too." He nodded and left.

Thomas ran the back of his fingers over her cheeks one last time before kissing her tenderly. "Good bye," he said before walking swiftly from the room without looking back.

Rebecca watched him go with tears streaming down her face until the herbs Aragorn had given her took effect and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

The distant shouts of men awoke Rebecca. She knew it was well before sunrise even though the days still remained in twilight most of the time, but now it was almost black outside. Sighing deeply at her inability to get up and look out the window to see what was happening down on the Pelennor, she tried to move. She realized that she could move her legs without pain and that while her right side still hurt, the intensity of it had decreased immensely. The sound of the door slowly opening caused Rebecca to look up and she assumed one of the aides was coming in to check on her and was surprised to see Merry cautiously poking his head in the doorway. "What are you doing up so early, Merry?"

"All the noise woke me and I thought you might be up too, so I came to check and see," he shrugged and walked into the room.

"It's good to see you, Merry. I've missed you and I'm glad you're staying here at least."

The hobbit made a noise that might have meant anything before saying, "I've missed you too, Rebecca." He walked to the window and stared out.

"Can you see anything?"

He shook his head, "No we're too far from the wall, this room overlooks the garden."

"Well, as I can't get up anyway, I suppose it's just as well. You can go out and look and come back and tell me."

"I don't want to see them leave, Rebecca. I just didn't want to be alone this morning so I came to see you."

Rebecca looked at him with sadness in her eyes, "I understand, Merry. Why don't you sit down and tell me about your trip with Éowyn? Or, maybe something about the Shire? And I could tell you something about my world. That would help us, I think... at least for awhile." She tried to smile, but wasn't very successful at it.

Merry nodded and began telling her a story about one of his numerous cousins.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas mounted Baldor and fought to bring him under control before moving to ride between Legolas and Halbarad and close to Aragorn and Imrahil. Elladan and Elrohir rode nearby and Rangers and Swan Knights surrounded them to keep an eye on their lord and their prince, respectively. Pippin was marching with the citadel guards even though Thomas had offered to let him ride with him. But Pippin wanted to march with those whom he had sworn allegiance with and Thomas couldn't fault him for that. Suddenly the order was given to march and with a last, longing glance up at the sixth level of the city, Thomas nudged Baldor forward and the free peoples of Gondor, of Rohan, of Mirkwood, the Shire, the Lonely Mountain, of Rivendell and even one young man from a distant place called earth set out to confront Sauron.

To be continued...

0-0-0-0-0

Elvish translations:

[Adar - father]
[Muindor nín - my brother]
]Mellon nín - my friend]
[Mae govannen! Gîl sílerin lû e-govaded vín - Well met! A star shines upon the hour of our meeting.]

0-0-0-0-0-0

To my reviewers:

Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews! I truly appreciate each one of them and the encouragement they give to me.


Chapter 24 - Ambushes

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J.


Chapter 24 – Ambushes

The Army of the West’s crossing of the Anduin at Osgiliath was a small disaster that could have been much worse. Five large barges were ferrying the 7,000 men and horses across the wide river. Midway through the morning, one of the barge’s ropes broke loose, setting the barge adrift and it rammed into another downstream. The force of the collision knocked dozens of men off the packed boats and into the water. The men grabbed desperately at the barges, struggling against the weight of their armor that threatened to pull them under. All but a few of the men survived. Those on both sides of the river could do nothing, except watch in horror as those on the boats scrambled to pull the men aboard. Once the men were safe, the rope was rapidly repaired and the crossing continued. By mid-afternoon, all of the men were on the eastern shore of the river and those at the rear were hurrying to catch up with those who had gone ahead. The road they were on led to the now desolate city of Minas Morgul, though their plan was to turn north at the Cross-roads and go through North Ithilien to the Morannon and the Black Gate.

Five miles past the river, Aragorn called a halt for the night and the Rohirrim, the Swan Knights and the ten companies of Gondorians, quickly started setting up camp. Alvist took Aragorn’s horse as he dismounted and several rangers set to work immediately erecting a tent for him. Aragorn watched them for a moment and then looked around the area to see that Éomer’s and Imrahil’s men were also putting up tents. Nearby, his rangers were setting out their bedrolls while Imrahil’s and Éomer’s personal guards were putting up shelters for themselves. From what Aragorn could see, most of the soldiers did not have tents or any type of shelters, but fires were already flickering here and there in the semi-darkness of the late afternoon. He wondered it they would ever see the sun again. Two of the scouts, Captain Caladithil and Beraid, suddenly appeared from the woods nearby and walked swiftly towards Aragorn. He motioned for his brothers, Gandalf, Éomer, and Imrahil to join them.

“My Lord King, Beraid and I scouted all the way to the Cross-roads and a little beyond and there was no sign of the enemy.”

Aragorn nodded and looked at Beraid. “We even checked some of the places where I’ve always found orcs, my Lord King,” he gave Aragorn a cocky grin, “and there hasn’t been orc activity for days.”

“Where are Mablung and the other scouts?”

“Mablung and Rilost headed north along the road while Hinhael and Damrod went south. Anborn and Pendem also went north, but are well west of the road,” Caladithil reported.

“Are those all the scouts we have out?” Éomer asked, clearly dismayed.

“Those are the ones farthest afield, Éomer King,” Imrahil replied. “We also have several dozen within a two to three mile radius of the camp keeping watch.” Éomer nodded.

“Get some rest, Captain, Beraid, you will need to be off again in a few hours,” Aragorn said and the scouts walked away talking quietly to each other. “Why does Sauron not have a force out to oppose us?” he glanced around the circle.

“He wants us to come, he does not fear an army this size,” Elladan said.

“He is behind his walls, why should he risk his men?” Éomer asked.

“Sauron cares nothing for his orcs and men,” Imrahil retorted. “You can be sure he has something planned.”

Aragorn nodded, “We need to be wary of ambushes and send our scouts out further the farther north we travel. Sauron may not fear us, but I doubt he will let us approach the Morannon uncontested.”

As the others nodded, Gandalf spoke up. “Tomorrow at the Cross-roads and then at frequent intervals as we march, I suggest we have heralds announce our coming to reclaim this land,” he glanced at Aragorn, “in the name of the Lord King Elessar.”

Aragorn looked at the ground for a moment as the others murmured their agreement. Lifting his gaze to meet Gandalf’s he gave him a brief, wry smile, “I hope we live long enough to enjoy the reign of King Elessar.” The others chuckled quietly and then moved off towards Aragorn’s tent to continue their discussions inside.

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Thomas found the pace agonizingly slow. He knew that with the men on foot they could not go any faster, but after their rush to Pelargir, this seemed like a trail ride and not a war. Everyone was subdued and little was spoken between those with whom he rode. The day gave him entirely too much time to think and he didn’t really want to do that, not about the battle and most especially not about Rebecca. But, of course, he thought about both. On and off throughout the day he worried about how the battle would turn out and if he and his friends would survive. Thomas also remembered his promise to Rebecca to speak with Aragorn about his fears, but he had no idea when he would ever have opportunity to do that – or if he was really going to do so.

Most of Thomas’s thoughts centered on Rebecca. He wondered if the people in the Houses of Healing would take good care of her. He was glad Faramir and Merry were there, but they weren’t doctors… healers like Aragorn and so he worried she wouldn’t get the proper care she required. Aragorn wasn’t concerned so he supposed he shouldn’t be either, but it still worried him. He tried not to think too much about a possible future they might have together since the chances of that actually happening seemed remote. Still, thoughts of Rebecca as his wife kept floating through his mind.

The one thing Thomas did enjoy during the first day march was the forest of Ithilien. The woods they rode through were much different than any area of Middle Earth he had yet seen. The beech and oak trees, the bushes and the small glades and brooks he caught glimpses of all reminded him of parts of Minnesota. The biggest difference was the scent in the air. As soon as they had left the eastern part of Osgiliath and entered the forest, Thomas had noticed the fragrant scent of herbs in the air. It was so different, yet pleasant and it reminded him of some type of tea. He caught Legolas staring around at the trees with intense interest and Thomas wondered what was going through the elf’s mind. Debating with himself briefly, he nudged Baldor a little closer to Arod, deciding that talking with Legolas and Gimli was preferable to thinking endlessly about the upcoming battle and Rebecca.

“What are you staring at Legolas?”

Legolas gave Thomas a brilliant smile, one that he hadn’t seen since they had left Lothlórien. “The forest here is so different from my home, yet it speaks to my heart. Shadow has touched it,” he gave Thomas a look of sorrow, “but not so badly that it cannot be restored. The trees welcome our presence here and…”

Gimli growled, “Welcome our presence? How do you know that?” Thomas stared curiously at the elf, though he knew Legolas often saw and felt things that mortals did not.

Legolas cast a look over his shoulder at the dwarf, “The very air rings with welcome, Gimli, if you would but listen to the song.”

“Trees that sing? We are not in Fangorn with the ents,” Gimli grumbled as he shook his head and Thomas saw a tiny spark of amusement in his eyes.

“All trees have a song, Gimli,” Legolas said with a patient tone in his voice that reminded Thomas of a teacher instructing a small child.

Gimli snorted, but fell silent as he began looking around, trying not to be obvious, much to Thomas’s hidden amusement. They lapsed into silence as the afternoon stretched on, broken only occasionally as Legolas’s keen eyes found some hidden treasure that he then pointed out.

When they halted for the night, Thomas took Baldor to where the other rangers were picketing their horses and carefully cleaned the horse and left his tack in a safe place. Walking to the tent with his bedroll and pack, he arrived just as Aragorn and the others disappeared into the tent. Thomas stood there uncertain, he didn’t want to disturb them, yet he was staying in the tent. Shrugging mentally, he slipped past Laegrist and into the tent as quietly as possible. There was a brief pause as everyone look up at him before they resumed their conversation. Laying his things down near the back of the tent, Thomas pulled some dried meat, dried fruit, and some bread that was only slightly fresher from his pack and headed back outside in search of Hinluin.

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The sounds of the departing army had barely faded when the door to Rebecca’s room opened and a woman came bustling in. “Oh, good you’re awake, dearie. Though, how anyone could have slept through that noise I don’t know. Master Merry! There you are. Alpheth was looking for you to give you your breakfast; we know how you hate to miss your meals! I should have thought you might have been in here with Lady Rebecca, her being King Elessar’s ward and all, and you being such good friends with him. Still, it never crossed my mind with all the things going on around here. You better hurry along now before your food gets cold.” The woman stood with her hands on her hips and looked at Merry expectantly.

Giving Rebecca a sidelong glance, Merry asked, “Couldn’t I eat my breakfast in here with Rebecca, Mistress Ioreth?” he gave her a beaming smile and Rebecca had to stifle a laugh.

Ioreth shook her head, “No, Master Merry, you certainly may not! Lady Rebecca needs to have a bath and clean clothes before she eats and knowing you, you won’t be able to wait that long. I think it’s best if you go now.”

Merry slid off the bed as Ioreth continued to speak and with a sly wink and a whispered “Good luck,” to Rebecca he darted out of the room. Rebecca watched him go and then turned her attention back to this grey-haired, middle-aged woman who was still talking. Ioreth was a short, solid looking woman; someone whom Rebecca could tell had spent years working hard. She was wearing a long, simple dark green gown that had an intricate brooch near her left shoulder. Rebecca suddenly realized there was another person in the room; she had been so distracted by Ioreth’s chatter that she had missed the other middle-aged woman standing by the table. She was taller than Ioreth, and wore a similar gown, though it was covered with a cream-colored apron. Deciding she probably needed to listen, Rebecca turned her attention back to Ioreth.

“…Now, the first thing we need to do is give you a bath and get you into some proper clothes. I don’t know where you got what you’re wearing, but it’s not appropriate,” Ioreth frowned.

Rebecca glanced down to see what she had on, having given it no thought. She looked at the shirt in confusion, it certainly wasn’t hers, it was much too big. It was of elvish make though, so it had to be Aragorn’s, Elladan’s, or Elrohir’s. She knew what she had been wearing would have been ruined, so she assumed they had given her one of theirs. Looking around the room, Rebecca spotted her pack, sword, bow, and quiver in the corner and her eyes lit up and she sighed in relief. “I have a change of clothing in my pack, Mistress Ioreth,” she said, nodding towards it.

Ioreth marched over and started searching through the pack, eventually pulling out Rebecca’s spare brown leggings, shirt and tunic. She held them up and looked at Rebecca in shock, “These are you spare clothes?” she exclaimed.

Nodding, Rebecca glanced at the other woman who gave her a sympathetic smile before turning back to Ioreth. “Yes, those are my spare clothes, Mistress Ioreth,” she stated quietly, yet firmly. “I understand that while I am still in bed and can’t take care of myself, I need to wear loose clothes like these,” she gestured carefully at herself with her right hand. “But once I am up and around I will wear those.”

“These are not clothes for a lady!” Ioreth protested.

Rebecca closed her eyes wearily. “I have worn similar clothes for months and no one seems to think me any less a lady.” She opened her eyes and stared at Ioreth, “When Aragorn…the King returns I shall be glad to wear a gown, but for now, those will be fine.”

“Yes, my lady,” Ioreth said with a small curtsey. “Now, Mistress Lothrín,” she beckoned the other lady forward, “is an aide here in the Houses and has been assigned to see to your needs while you are here.” Rebecca’s eyes widened and she smiled at the woman who gave her a warm, gentle smile in return. “She and I will bathe you, change your bandages and then you may eat your breakfast,” Ioreth said briskly. Moving with an efficiency that spoke of long experience, the two women quickly had her bathed, changed and ready to eat. Rebecca only felt intense pain when they took off her shirt and put on a clean, loose fitting sleeping garment. Mostly, though the pain had subsided to a level where she could almost ignore it – until she tried to sit up too quickly or roll on her right side.

Breakfast proved to be some kind of watery porridge and a small piece of bread. Ioreth left the room at that point and Rebecca sighed in relief, her incessant chatter was very tiring, though at least she seemed to require few responses.

“She means well, lady,” Lothrín’s gentle voice drew Rebecca’s gaze back to where the woman was sitting, patiently waiting to help her eat breakfast.

“I’m sure she does. It’s just… does she always talk so much?” she whispered.

Lothrín laughed quietly, “Yes, I fear she does. But, she’s very good at what she does and the Warden trusts her completely, and, more importantly, so should you. Now, lady, you need to eat.”

They talked as Rebecca ate and she learned that Lothrín’s husband had died several years previously fighting in Osgiliath. She had a married daughter and two grandsons, all of whom had been evacuated to the south with the rest of the younger women and children of the city. Her son-in-law had marched out with the army as a member of the city guard, Lothrín explained with a worried frown.

“I understand your fears,” Rebecca said quietly as Lothrín finished.

“I’m sure you do, everyone here has at least one person in that army they love and worry about,” Lothrín said. “Still, we must have hope,” she gave Rebecca an encouraging smile and squeezed her hand.

“You sound like Aragorn… the King,” Rebecca commented as she studied the woman closely, noting her deep brown eyes that matched her hair.

“It matters not to me if you call him Aragorn, lady.” Her brow furrowed in thought as she looked at Rebecca, “Without hope there is only despair and I will not take that path.” Lothrín shuddered and Rebecca saw a look of pain cross her face and wondered what memory caused it. Lothrín smiled gently once more, “No, it’s best to cling to hope. Now, I think you should rest. I’ll be back later to check on you.” Lothrín stood and helped Rebecca get comfortable before leaving the room.

Rebecca’s last thoughts before she drifted off to sleep, were of Thomas and of hope.

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Thomas stared moodily into the fire as the noises of the camp quieted down around him and men settled into sleep for the night. Soon all he could hear were the faint rustles of the sentries as they made their rounds. Hinluin had left some time ago and Thomas was waiting for Imrahil and Éomer to leave before he entered the tent to seek his own rest. Legolas was out walking in the woods and Gimli was already sleeping somewhere in the ranger’s camp. Closing his eyes, a slight noise to his right startled him awake and he fumbled for his sword.

“Peace, Thomas,” Aragorn’s calm voice spoke from the darkness and Thomas realized he had fallen asleep sitting up, the fire burned down now to bright orange coals. Aragorn crouched down beside him, picking up a stick to stir up the fire before adding a small log to it. Satisfied, he sat down, dusting off his hands as he looked searchingly at Thomas. Finally, he asked, “Why do you sit out here? Why did not come into the tent and sleep?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt your discussions,” Thomas shrugged. “I didn’t know if it was some kind of top secret stuff.”

“Top secret?” Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question, “I assume that is a term from your world.”

Thomas nodded with a sheepish expression. “Yes, and only presidents… kings,” he amended at Aragorn’s puzzled look, “and… military leaders know those secrets. Not… well, someone like me.”

Aragorn nodded slowly, “I see. Well, as a member of my household, Thomas, you are not just ‘someone’.” He regarded Thomas thoughtfully, “Surely you have noticed how others treat you and call you lord.”

“Yes, but I’m not a lord, Aragorn, I’m just your ward. So I thought it was just out of respect for you.”

Aragorn shrugged slightly, “It is, a ward is always treated the same as a true daughter or son.” He smiled faintly, “As your guardian happens to be me, you are treated with the respect and honor due the son of a… king.” Thomas stared at Aragorn for a moment and then shifted his gaze back to the fire without a word. “Thomas, I told you that so that you would know none would think it strange for you to come into our tent to either listen or to sleep. If the conversation were truly something ‘top secret’, then I would tell you and send you out.” He shook his head and frowned, “Nothing we are discussing and planning is something you cannot hear.”

“All right,” Thomas nodded.

“Good, we need to get some rest,” Aragorn started to rise.

“Wait, Aragorn, I-I need to talk to you about something else.”

Aragorn sank back down and gave Thomas a concerned look at the slightly desperate tone in his voice. “What is the matter?”

“I-I promised Rebecca I would talk to you if I got the chance, but I didn’t think I would have to because you’re so busy, but since you’re here…” Thomas’s voice trailed off and he stared past Aragorn.

“Thomas, what is wrong?” Aragorn’s quiet voice and the gentle hand he laid on Thomas’s shoulder brought the young man’s gaze back to him.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s just… I’m scared, Aragorn,” he whispered.

Aragorn looked at him with compassion and understanding in his grey eyes. “Because of what happened to Rebecca?”

Thomas nodded. “Yes, thinking she was dead and then… then seeing her like that. I’m more scared now than ever before and I know that it doesn’t make sense,” he frowned as he looked at Aragorn in confusion, “because I’ve been in so many battles, that… that I should be used to it.”

“I pray to the Valar you do not,” Aragorn said fervently. “War and killing is not something to get used to, it is something you endure; something that has to be done to fight against evil.” Aragorn sighed and ran his fingers through his long black hair. “Fear is strange,” he finally said, “and you never know when it will show up. All you can do is face it as best you can, Thomas, and try not to let it overwhelm you. Which is difficult, often extremely difficult.” Aragorn looked into the distance for a moment before focusing back on Thomas.

“You have experience,” Thomas stated, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees.

“I am eighty-eight years old, so yes, I have experienced and overcome fear many times in my long life. Many are the times I have wandered the wilds alone and battled bands of orcs or bandits wondering if I would survive, but knowing that they must be stopped to protect hobbits or other people.” Aragorn stopped there, not telling Thomas of the harder, more personal fears he faced – of his heritage, his fitness to become king, and his greatest fear, which he had long since conquered, that of being a worthy husband to an elf who was willing to give up her immortality for him.

Thomas rubbed his face with his hand and sighed deeply.

“Look at me, Thomas.” Aragorn waited until he did so, “I wish I could tell you that this will be easy, but it is not so. It is something each person has to face on their own. However, I will say that you are not a coward…” Thomas flinched. “…and you are well able to overcome this fear.” He studied Thomas for any sign of understanding, but Thomas’s face remained blank and Aragorn sighed inwardly. “I…”

“Then, I’ll just have to do it,” Thomas’s whispered voice interrupted him, “and hope for the best.”

“Thomas, I have seen you fight, you will do well. But, you have to believe that, or you will fail,” he stated matter-of-factly, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder as his concern for Thomas grew.

Nodding, Thomas glanced at Aragorn and then away, “I’ll be all right. We have a few more days and I’ll be all right by then,” he tried to make his voice sound firm and convincing, but Aragorn was not fooled, though he said nothing.

“We need our rest,” Aragorn once again rose to his feet and pulling Thomas up after him they headed into the tent.

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The nightmare reappeared that night. Thomas hadn’t had one since he was twelve. The first time he had the nightmare was when he was nine, right after he learned his father had been killed in Germany. That first year he had it almost every other night and he almost always woke up crying and his mother had to soothe him back to sleep. But the dreams had become less frequent over time and by age twelve he was able to roll over and go back to sleep on his own. Then one day he realized he hadn’t had the nightmare for over a month and he had never had it again until now. Thomas lay in the tent with his arm over his eyes trying to get the images out of his mind. The ones where his father was being shot over and over by some faceless soldier and Thomas could see the agony in his father’s eyes and on his face as he crumbled in a heap to the ground. That was always how the nightmare started and this time had been no different, except as the dream continued sometimes Aragorn’s face had replaced his father’s and there were swords instead of guns. As he lay there, Thomas knew it had something to do with Aragorn mentioning him being treated like he was the son of a king. He lay there shaking and trying to control his breathing; glad the tent was big enough that Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Gandalf were sleeping some distance away from him. Finally calming down, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

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“I want to get up this afternoon,” Rebecca announced as Lothrín brought in her lunch the day after the army left. Setting the tray on the table, Lothrín crossed to the bed and looked at her with a small smile while Rebecca watched her nervously, afraid the aide might not think she was ready to be up.

“Hmmm, you do look remarkably well, lady,” she finally said. “You’re healing much quicker than I’d have thought possible.”

Rebecca relaxed. “I had the advantage of elvish healing, along with Aragorn’s skill, of course,” her smile faded as she thought of them.

“You are fortunate,” Lothrín patted her hand before retrieving the tray so that Rebecca could eat. She ate the thin soup quickly, eager to be on her feet once again. “This will not be easy,” Lothrín cautioned.

Her jaw set and a determined glint in her blue eyes, Rebecca nodded. Slowly swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she paused for a moment and then Lothrín helped her stand by carefully holding her around her shoulders. Grimacing with pain for a few moments, she finally smiled at the aide. “I’m up at least, now I’ll try to walk.” Starting out slowly, she found walking was somewhat easier than she expected – as long as she held her right arm perfectly still along her side and she didn’t twist in any way. With her left arm in a sling to protect her broken arm, it was awkward, but not painful. Rebecca walked slowly back and forth across the floor under Lothrín’s watchful gaze.

“I think you should lie back down now, lady,” Lothrín said after no more than five minutes.

“B-but I just got up,” Rebecca protested as she halted in mid-stride.

“Yes,” Lothrín agreed, coming alongside to help Rebecca back to bed. “And you have been injured near to death. You should not overtax yourself.”

“Could I at least sit in a chair for awhile?”” she pleaded.

“Well, I’m not sure Ioreth would approve. However…”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” Rebecca interrupted.

Lothrín smiled, “Don’t worry about that, lady.” She grabbed two pillows and a blanket from the bed to pad the chair and then helped Rebecca gently sit down.

“This is nice,” Rebecca murmured as she settled in. Spying her pack she suddenly thought of something, “Lothrín, I had a journal in my pack, would you see if it’s still in there?”

“You won’t be able to write with your arm like that,” she said, handing Rebecca the small beautifully bound journal she had gotten in Lothlórien.

“I know, but…” A firm knock on the door interrupted them. Rebecca called, “Come in,” as Lothrín adjusted the blanket around her lap as Faramir walked in, his left arm and shoulder tightly wrapped in a bandage and sling. “Hello, Faramir,” Rebecca smiled at the Steward as he crossed to her.

“Lady Rebecca,” he bowed before reaching for her hand, stopping himself with a slight frown as he obviously remembered her injury. He turned to look at Lothrín.

“This is Mistress Lothrín.”

“My Lord Steward,” she curtsied deeply, much to Rebecca’s dismay as she wondered if she would have to do that here in Gondor once she was up and wearing gowns.

“Mistress Lothrín,” Faramir acknowledged before turning back to Rebecca and carefully looking her over. “You look well; I am surprised to see you out of bed so quickly.”

“Please sit down, Faramir. I’m feeling much better and I was able to talk Lothrín into letting me get up.” She glanced at the aide as she slipped out the door.

Faramir gave her a gentle smile. “I brought you a book, but I see you have one,” he nodded towards her journal.

“This is a journal I got in Lothlórien, but I haven’t had a way to write in it since then. No time either,” she sighed. “I doubt I could write now, but I was going to read it,” she absently flipped through the pages with her right hand, being careful not to stretch her back.

“Lothlórien,” Faramir’s eyes lit up. “What was it like there? What are the elves like? Do they really live in trees? I have heard the mallorn trees are silver and gold, but I do not believe that. Is it true?”

Rebecca started giggling and Faramir gave her a sheepish grin. “You sound like me, Faramir when I get excited or interested in something,” she smiled. “The elves do live in the trees. They have houses they call talans and the walls and roof are…,” she paused, seeking the right words. “Well, it’s hard to explain, but somehow they use living branches of the trees to form the walls and roofs. They are green and living and light shines through, but it’s still private,” she watched Faramir’s eyes widen and he leaned his elbow on the table and his head on his hand as he listened. “The talans are large, but so are the trees, I’ve never seen trees so big. Mine had three rooms and Lord Celeborn’s and Lady Galadriel’s home was a series of interconnected talans.” Rebecca saw Faramir open his mouth and she paused to wait for his question, but he just smiled and shook his head so she continued. “There are endless staircases to get up to the talans,” she groaned, “and then narrow walkways, with no handrails,” she shuddered, “between the trees. On the ground are the shops for making clothes, dishes and other things they use.”

“I would like to see it,” Faramir remarked and Rebecca could clearly hear the wistful note in his voice. “What are the elves like? You mentioned Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, are they like Legolas? He is the only elf I have ever met.”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, they are much different than Legolas and yet I’m not sure I can explain them either, Faramir. Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are, at the same time, both the most intimidating people I have ever met and yet some of the kindest. You can tell they are ancient, though they don’t look it, except in their eyes. Legolas is very young compared to them and he’s 1,937 years old.” Faramir sat up at that and then relaxed again, shaking his head. “They have incredible power that you can sense just when you see them and Lady Galadriel can read your heart and can speak into your mind just as I am talking to you.”

“How does she do that?” Faramir exclaimed.

“I don’t know, but it’s very strange and sometimes annoying, especially if you are trying to speak with someone else,” Rebecca replied. “She can also heal people, she healed my broken wrist,” she glanced down at her left wrist in its sling and shook her head slightly, wishing Galadriel were here now to do some of her instant healing.

“You were injured there as well? What happened?” he gazed at her intently, his sharp grey eyes curious.

Rebecca groaned inwardly, knowing she needed to be careful with what she said so that he did not discover where she was from. “I had an accident. Anyway, she just touched it and said some elvish words and it was perfectly fine.” She noticed Faramir was staring at her with narrowed eyes and she knew he’d noticed her evasive answer, but he did not pursue it then.

“What about the other elves?”

“I only got to know a few very well. Brethil, my guide and friend, was kind and merry, but she is younger than Legolas. But the male elves were very different. The healer who taught me,” Faramir’s eyebrows went up slightly, “was very hard and demanding and was difficult to get along with, but I learned a lot from him. Haldir,” Rebecca smiled, “who taught me archery,” Faramir’s eyebrows rose even higher, “was also demanding, but he was also kind and courteous. I was scared of him at first,” she admitted, “but he became a friend during my time there.”

“You learned healing skills and archery while you were there?” Faramir asked with a look of confusion.

“Yes, Lady Galadriel felt it necessary. Oh, Aragorn also taught me how to use a sword, but I’m not good at that.”

“You learned a lot while you were there,” he commented. “Is that your bow?”

“Yes. You may look at it. Haldir had it made for me.”

Faramir looked it over intently from one end to the other and then did the same with the quiver and the sword. “These are beautifully made weapons, but the arrows are not elvish made, they have a Rohirric design.”

“I used all my elvish arrows,” she said, looking down at the table for a moment. “Though Legolas did collect them for me after the battle at Helm’s Deep, so I,” she cleared her throat uncomfortably, “used them more than once.” Rebecca looked up at Faramir again.

“You fought at Helm’s Deep?” Rebecca nodded. “Are you good?” he asked as he returned to his seat, looking her over with something in his eyes that Rebecca couldn’t read.

“Yes, I am. Haldir is a good teacher and I had lots of time to practice while we were there.”

“Hmmm, how long were you there?” his grey eyes darkened as he studied her and Rebecca wondered what he was thinking.

“About six weeks,” Rebecca tried to think of something to change the subject. “Oh, I never did tell you about the mallorn trees! The bark is silvery-grey and the leaves were golden. They are so beautiful. There were lots of flowers growing in the city even in January and it was so pretty,” she sighed in remembrance.

Faramir looked at her closely and then said, “When I have time, which I have had little of the last few years, I read about the elven kingdoms of old and long have I wished to visit them. Perhaps, if we prevail, I will have a chance to do so.”

“I hope you can, you would enjoy both the beauty and meeting the elves.”

“I do not want to overtire you on your first day up, Lady Rebecca, but I do thank you for telling me of Lothlórien and I am sure I will think of more questions for you,” he smiled. “I wasn’t sure what kind of book you would like, or what you might have already read, so I brought this book of tales. It has stories and legends from many parts of Gondor and I thought you might not have heard them all.”

“It sounds wonderful!” she gave him a beaming smile and reached for the book, but gasped as the motion pulled the stitches in her back and side

“Careful,” he scolded gently and handed her the book as he stood.

“Thank you,” Rebecca resisted the urge to immediately open the book and start reading. “Faramir, Thomas told me that Éowyn was here. Have you seen her?”

Faramir gave her a strange look and a small smile, “Yes, I met her this morning. Why?”

“If you see her again, would you ask her if she would come by and see me? I know her a little bit and it would be nice to talk with her.”

“Then I shall seek her out for you, Lady Rebecca.” Again there was a strange little gleam in Faramir’s eyes and Rebecca wondered about it. “I shall take my leave of you now. Rest well, and I shall see you tomorrow, unless you need anything before then.”

Rebecca shook her head, “I’m fine. Unless… have you heard anything from Aragorn?” she bit her lip anxiously.

“Just that they reached the Cross-roads today and were heading north; I do not expect to hear anything more from them,” his voice and face were almost expressionless.

“All right, thank you and thanks again for the book.” Faramir nodded and left, leaving Rebecca alone with the first book she had had since her arrival in Middle Earth. Eagerly, she opened it to the first story and began to read.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

From where Aragorn rode near the front of the column it was hard to believe there were 7,000 men following him, so quiet were they. Though, it was actually more like 6,500 after the men they had left behind at the Cross-roads two days ago; they were there to protect them from an attack from behind if Sauron decided to send a force from Minas Morgul. The only noise came from the shuffling feet of the men and horses and the occasional herald blast that announced his coming to re-claim his land, something he still had trouble connecting with himself. The Nazgul, that continued to fly overhead at frequent intervals, drained the spirits of all the men. The absence of birds and other normal forest sounds was also distressing as they rode through the area once know as the ‘Gardens of Gondor’. Aragorn knew it greatly disturbed Legolas and it reminded him of their trek through Hollin weeks ago.

Glancing around for Imrahil and Halbarad, his gaze fell on Thomas and his eyes narrowed as he wondered how he fared. He had not had a chance to speak with him since their conversation two nights ago, but Aragorn had seen his haggard eyes and knew he was not sleeping well. Grimacing slightly and making a mental note to try and find a moment to speak with him soon, he moved on to his other concerns. “Prince Imrahil, Halbarad,” he called and the two men pulled their horses up on opposite sides of him.

“My lord?” Imrahil inquired, while Halbarad just waited silently.

“I want you to send Mablung and Rilost out again,” Aragorn said, his eyes becoming slightly unfocused before snapping back into their normal piercing grey sharpness.

“But,” Imrahil hesitated, “they have just returned and need some rest, even if that rest is on the back of a horse as we march.”

“I know, yet are they not our best scouts and do they not know this area well?” Imrahil nodded. “Then I fear they must go. I also want a couple of my rangers to accompany them. Halbarad, do we have any here now, or are they all out scouting?”

“Alvist and Hinluin are here, my lord. Or, we could send Laegrist and Faerlain and have Hinluin and some of the Gondorian men stand guard over you.”

“Hinluin is young,” Aragorn remarked, “but, I believe he will do well. They must be extremely cautious,” he paused. “I sense some force of the enemy awaits us within a day’s journey.”

Imrahil looked at him curiously, “Do you often sense such things, my Lord King?”

“Not as often as I would like,” Aragorn smiled grimly. “I, and my rangers,” he glanced at Halbarad, “have been ambushed several times and have lost good men; those are times when my gift would have been especially useful.”

“It also saved lives on many other occasions,” Halbarad reminded him, glancing sidelong at Aragorn before staring into the distance ahead of them.

“Yes, it has,” Aragorn acknowledged with a slight nod. “Please see to the scouts,” he said, clearly dismissing them and the two turned aside to do his bidding.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas searched for Hinluin for some time before learning the young ranger had left to scout ahead. He was somewhat surprised since this was the first time Hinluin had done anything like that and he had often wondered just what he did with the rangers. As Thomas wandered through the camp, he automatically nodded and returned the greetings of the men he passed. Part of him was amazed at how quickly he had become accustomed to being called ‘lord’ and part of him was still unnerved by the whole situation, though he never showed it on the outside. Sighing, Thomas glanced around the camp before deciding to eat alone. He had been avoiding the others as much as possible, afraid they would ask him what was wrong and not sure how to respond. Aragorn was easy to avoid as he was so busy and, except for brief glimpses of Elladan and Elrohir in the mornings and evenings, he hadn’t spoken with them either. And, although he had seen Gandalf giving him a strange look yesterday as they rode, the wizard hadn’t spoken to him. He couldn’t avoid Legolas and Gimli since they rode together and Thomas could see no way to escape that. He was surprised the elf hadn’t said anything to him already, but then everyone had a lot of their minds. At least they went their own way as soon as they set up camp – Legolas into the woods and Gimli to eat and sleep.

Settling on the ground behind their tent, Thomas slowly began to eat while his thoughts wandered between Rebecca, his father, Aragorn and the upcoming battle. He desperately wished the battle would start so that he could relieve the tension within him. He couldn’t totally understand why the nightmares had started again, but he wished there was some way to make them stop. Thomas yawned wearily and rubbed his eyes. He was so tired, but going to sleep was something he tried to put off as long as possible. He glanced up as he noticed a slight movement and he groaned inwardly when he saw it was one of Aragorn’s brothers.

“May I join you?” the elf-lord asked.

“Of course, Lord…?” Thomas looked at him questioningly

“Elrohir,” he replied as he gracefully sat down across from Thomas. “What dreams awaken you every night, Thomas?” he inquired without preamble, his voice gentle and his steady gaze full of concern as he regarded him.

Thomas just stared at him blankly for a moment before dropping his head and staring at the ground. “How did you know?” he whispered.

Elrohir gently lifted Thomas’s chin until their eyes met. “Elves do not sleep as men do, Thomas, and are aware of any slight noise. Both Elladan and I have been aware of your dreams. Normally, Estel would also awaken, but his mind is much occupied.” Elrohir frowned, “Though I am surprised he has not asked after you, you look exhausted.”

“He thinks there is something else bothering me.”

Elrohir nodded, “Rebecca?” Thomas shrugged and after a moment, the elf continued. “Tell me of this dream that haunts you,” he commanded softly, his eyes telling Thomas he would not let this go.

“I can’t,” Thomas shook his head, pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around them.

“Yes, you can,” Elrohir said firmly. “This is hurting you, Thomas, and it may cause others to be hurt as well. You need to tell someone.” His voice softened once again, “Would you rather speak with Aragorn?”

Thomas shook his head vehemently, “No, Elrohir.” He sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes. “This-this dream… I first had it when I was nine and… and I found out my father… died. Did you know about that?” Elrohir nodded. “I-I had these… nightmares, where I could see my father… dying, for about three years and then they stopped.” Thomas paused and took a deep breath. “They started again three nights ago… only… only sometimes,” he stopped and looked away.

“You need to continue, Thomas,” Elrohir said quietly and the young man glared at him angrily before he started hesitantly again.

“Sometimes… Aragorn’s face was there instead of my father’s,” he whispered. “Now it’s always his face I see.” Thomas buried his face in his hands and his shoulders shook, though no tears fell. He felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and a soothing elvish song being sung.

Finally, Elrohir pulled back and quietly asked in a voice full of compassion, “Why do you think it started again?”

Thomas shrugged and Elrohir just waited as Thomas began to tap his leg nervously with his fingers. Finally he sighed, “I’m not dumb, Elrohir. I know it’s because of this battle and because Aragorn made some comment the other night about me being treated like the son of a king because I’m his ward. That’s all it is.”

Elrohir’s eyebrow went up, “You truly think that is all that is causing your dreams to return?”

“What else could it be?” Thomas looked at the elf in confusion.

Elrohir studied him intently for a long moment and Thomas finally had to look away. “Do you not see Aragorn as a father, Thomas?” he asked softly.

“No!” he cried, “my father is dead.” He started to jump to his feet, but strong elven hands pulled him firmly back to the ground.

“Yes, your birth father died,” Elrohir said in a voice full of sorrow, “and it was a tragic event in your young life. Yet, it does not mean that you cannot be close to someone else and look to them as a father. It does not mean you love your true father any less.”

Thomas shook his head and muttered, “No, no, no, I can’t Elrohir.”

“Why? I will tell you that Aragorn sees you as a son of his heart.”

“I know, I know. But… what… what if he dies, too?” he whispered brokenly as tears finally started to silently fall.

“He might, Thomas,” Elrohir acknowledged, gently cupping the side of the young man’s face. “Yet to hold yourself back from having a father’s love, even for a short time, would be a worse tragedy. And, truly on the inside you see Aragorn as a father, which is why your dreams show him thus. It is why you are in so much turmoil.”

Thomas wiped his eyes with his sleeves and stared at the ground, his mind racing. Sighing, he looked up at Elrohir, “I’m almost eighteen, I really don’t need a father anymore,” he argued weakly.

Elrohir snorted inelegantly, “I am close to 3,000 years old, and I still need mine. It has nothing to do with your age.”

Nodding in reluctant acceptance, Thomas glanced around and let out another deep sigh. “I suppose not. Thank you, Elrohir. I mean, Lord Elrohir,” his eyes widened in horror as he realized that he had been calling the elf by his name only.

Elrohir laughed lightly, “Be at peace, Thomas. I suppose if we have agreed that Aragorn is as a father to you,” he gave Thomas a questioning look and Thomas nodded slowly, “then that would make me some type of foster-uncle.” His lips twitched in amusement as he gracefully arose and he held his hand down to help Thomas to his feet. “Then I shall not require you to call me ‘lord’ in private,” he smiled.

Thomas smiled weakly in return, still having much to sort out, but already feeling more at peace with himself.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rebecca stood leaning against the wall in the garden looking out at the Pelennor, trying to grasp the fact that she had almost died on the debris-strewn field where smoke still lingered in the cool morning air. She was well wrapped in a warm cloak and was thrilled to be outside after being confined inside for a week, but seeing the place where she had fallen brought back frightening images and she shifted uneasily on her feet. Merry’s voice at her side brought her out of her musings.

“Rebecca! I didn’t know you could be outside yet.” She looked down at his concerned face.

“This is my first time, Merry and I was just going to sit down for awhile. It’s so nice to be outside.” Merry nodded and walked alongside her to the bench where Lothrín had left a pillow which he adjusted behind her back before hopping up beside her, his legs swinging slowly beneath the bench. “How’s your arm, Merry?”

“Its fine,” he shrugged as he held it up. “I shouldn’t even be in the Houses anymore, but I have no place else to go,” he sighed.

“Well, I’m glad you’re still here,” Rebecca said, placing her right hand carefully on his arm, pleased that the motion caused no pain.

“I know,” he muttered, “and I’m glad we have each other, but this waiting without hearing anything is terribly hard,” Merry looked east to the Mountains of Shadow.

Rebecca followed his gaze, “It is,” she admitted. “Faramir told me a couple of days ago that we won’t hear anything else from them.”

Merry let out a long drawn out sigh and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs with his chin in his hand. “Then there’s Frodo and Sam to worry about, too.”

Celeborn’s advice flashed into Rebecca’s mind and she tried to repeat it. “Merry, Lord Celeborn told me something when all of you left Lothlórien and sometimes it helps me and sometimes not,” she smiled faintly as Merry looked up at her. “He just asked me if my worrying helped you, or if it helped me and that I needed to find a way to let my worry go and be at peace.” Rebecca sighed, “It sounds so easy and I know he’s right because he’s so old and everything and I try, but… “ her voice trailed off and she just looked at Merry.

Merry snorted, “That’s a very elvish thing to say, but it’s true enough, I suppose.” He stood and wandered to the wall with his hands in his pockets. “Rebecca, do you think you were sent here because,” he turned back to her and then froze, wide-eyed, staring over her shoulder. “Éowyn, Lord Faramir,” he quickly said with a half bow before glancing nervously at Rebecca.

Rebecca returned his look and tightened the grip on her cloak, pulling it closer about her as Faramir and Éowyn returned Merry’s greeting and turned to her. “Good morning, Éowyn, Faramir,” she said, looking at Éowyn with a small smile which was returned in kind as Éowyn joined her on the bench.

“Lady Rebecca,” Faramir said with a brisk nod and a gentle smile, though his gaze was piercing and held a hint of a question as he looked at her. “It is good to see you up and about the gardens.”

“I was able to talk Mistress Lothrín into letting me out,” she said, relieved that Faramir had apparently not overhead Merry’s comment. She looked at Éowyn, “You look better,” she said, though she noticed her eyes were dark with worry and the same sense of sorrow that had surrounded Éowyn since she had first met her was still there.

“My arm is better,” Éowyn replied, looking down at her bandaged and sling protected left arm. “I will be glad to lose this, though.”

“Me too, the three of us,” Rebecca glanced at Faramir, ”are quite the sight when we are all together like this.”

Éowyn nodded and turned her gaze eastward, “I should be with them,” she murmured.

Rebecca stared at her in shock as Faramir exclaimed, “No, my lady! You have done enough and deserve to rest and heal here in safety.” His tone made Rebecca look up at him and something in his eyes made her suspect that Faramir had strong feelings for Éowyn. She blinked in surprise and looked back at Éowyn to see that she obviously did not return his feelings as she just stared up at Faramir blankly.

“The enemy is still out there, Lord Faramir and while he is, I should be helping. Though, I know my brother would not let me go even if my arm were fully healed,” she said bitterly.

“Aragorn wouldn’t either,” Rebecca reminded her quietly before realizing that was probably not the best thing to say. “But, Éowyn, why would you want to do it again? Didn’t you see how awful it was?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I told you after Helm’s Deep how horrible it was, and yet you still want to continue to fight after being in a battle yourself? After you almost died?” she stared at her in confusion.

“You went on,” Éowyn pointed out sharply. “You could have remained in Dunharrow and yet you rode with Lord Aragorn and his men.”

“I had to, Éowyn you know that, we had this discussion before. I’m Aragorn’s ward and my place was with him,” she glanced at Faramir from the corner of her eye to find him watching them both intently, “and I didn’t have the responsibilities that you have for your people.”

Éowyn snorted, “And now that you have come here and been injured do you wish you had stayed behind?”

Rebecca paused, taking a deep breath as she slowly shook her head, “No, I don’t. As horrible and as painful as it’s been, I don’t. H-Halbarad would be dead if I’d stayed in Dunharrow.”

The three of them stared at her for a moment, none of them had heard about her saving Halbarad.

“Is that how you received your injuries, Lady Rebecca?” Faramir asked.

“Yes,” Rebecca nodded, meeting his eyes briefly before she looked at Merry and saw his eyes starting to take on a thoughtful expression. She turned back to Éowyn. “But that doesn’t mean I want to go on fighting, Éowyn,” she said quietly. “I pray they will come back safely, but, as I told you before, I don’t want to die myself.” Éowyn just looked down and away and Rebecca realized she still loved Aragorn and wanted to be near him even if she died. With a sigh, Rebecca looked up at Faramir to see he was watching Éowyn with compassion in his dark grey eyes and she wondered what he knew about Éowyn’s feelings for Aragorn. Deciding to change the subject, she said, “I’ve enjoyed all of the stories in the book you gave me, Faramir.”

“Are you finished with it already?” he asked in surprise, finally joining Merry in sitting on the grass in front of the bench.

“I finished it last night,” she replied with a small smile. “I’m a fast reader and there isn’t much else I can do.”

“You’ve wanted to read a book since I’ve known you,” Merry commented. “I’m glad you finally have had the chance, though I wish it wasn’t in this way.” Rebecca nodded slightly, though inside she was hoping that Faramir didn’t ask how long they had known each other. He didn’t.

“What was the book about?” Éowyn asked.
“Which story was your favorite?” Faramir asked at the same time and he smiled at her.

“The book was stories from all around Gondor,” Rebecca answered. “And, my favorite…,” she paused in thought and then shook her head, “I can’t answer that, Faramir, there were too many good stories. I’ve never liked questions like that anyway. I can never choose my favorite books. Can you?”

Faramir looked at her with narrowed eyes for a moment and then shook his head with a small laugh, “No,” he admitted, “I cannot. There are too many of them to choose only one.” He glanced at Éowyn and Merry, “Do either of you enjoy reading?”

“I only do it if I have to,” Merry snorted. “There were always too many fun things to do outside that I wanted to explore.”

“My people do not write their stories down,” Éowyn said quietly, “and so while I read and write in the common tongue, it is not something that I really enjoy doing.”

“Maybe you just did not have the right books in Rohan. I shall have to find something to read to you so that you may see that it is something enjoyable,” Faramir said with a gleam in his eye. Rebecca and Merry exchanged amused glances, while Éowyn just nodded in response.

Merry looked up and said, “Uh oh, here comes your keeper, Rebecca,” there was a slight hint of amusement in his voice and Rebecca sighed.

“I have been out here a long time,” she said as she glanced over her shoulder at Lothrín. “Have you come to take me away?” she asked.

“Yes, my lady,” she said with a slight bow to her and the others. Faramir arose and helped Rebecca up and after a last look off to the east and a quiet good bye to the others, Rebecca returned to her room.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rilost brought his sweat-soaked horse to a halt alongside Aragorn. “My lord,” he said, slightly out-of-breath, “we have discovered a large force of the enemy about five miles ahead. Mablung and the others are keeping watch over them.”

“Men or orcs and how many?” Aragorn asked sharply, glancing around to make sure Imrahil, Éomer and his advisors were within earshot.

“Both, my Lord King,” Rilost replied, taking a long drink from the waterskin Imrahil handed him. “The men are Easterlings and our estimate is around fifteen hundred total.”

Aragorn grimaced slightly, “What is the area like?”

“They are east of the road on a forested hill overlooking it. It’s just past a sharp bend in the road, my lord,” Rilost frowned. “It’s actually a perfect place for an ambush, we’ve used it ourselves.”

Aragorn narrowed his eyes in thought, “I believe I remember that place and it is indeed a good place for an ambush.”

“Did Mablung have any suggestions, Rilost?” Imrahil asked. “He knows this area better than most - apart from our Lord King,” he said glancing at Aragorn from the corner of his eye. Aragorn ignored him.

Rilost nodded, “He suggested sending horsemen around west of the road, circling back and attacking from the north.”

“Well done, Rilost,” Aragorn said, “take some rest; I will have need of you soon.” Rilost nodded, dismounted and led his weary horse away. Dismounting himself, Aragorn looked around at Elladan and the men surrounding him, noting that Elrohir was riding with Thomas today. “Mablung’s plan sounds reasonable and he does know this area better than the rest of us,” he said glancing at Imrahil who smiled slightly. “If you will agree, Éomer, I suggest we send your men around while the rest of us continue up the road. Once you have engaged them from the north, we will strike from the south and, hopefully, overwhelm them without too many casualties. I also want Faramir’s rangers and some of our other archers to slip up into the hills behind them and drive them down towards us and also to keep them from escaping back into Mordor.”

“I will take my men around, Aragorn. You must give me time to get into position, traveling through the woods will be slow,” Éomer said. He glanced at the forest surrounding them, “There is not much underbrush. I would expect it will take us about four hours.”

“It will take us less than two hours to travel by the road,” Elladan commented.

Halbarad glanced at the sky and shrugged, “Take a break for lunch now.”

Aragorn nodded, “Imrahil, pass the word among all the men and prepare your Swan Knights and the other horsemen who will be in the front of the column. The foot soldiers must stay up with us as best they can.” Imrahil nodded and departed. Aragorn turned to Éomer, “Be safe, brother,” he said, clasping his arm tightly.

“I will,” Éomer grinned cockily, “you as well.” He strode off, barking instructions to his marshals.

Looking to Elladan, Gandalf, and Halbarad, Aragorn remarked, “Fifteen hundred? That is not enough to defeat an army of our size.”

“No, but it would severely hamper us if he had succeeded in surprising us, Aragorn,” Gandalf replied. “It is a small risk on his part and he had much to gain.”

“Perhaps he means for us to underestimate his strength,” Elladan added, “To give us false hope.”

“That sounds like him,” Halbarad snorted.

Aragorn nodded, running his fingers through his hair, “And, to test our resolve and strength as well. We need to eat,” he said abruptly, turning and rummaging through his pack. Tossing Roheryn’s reins to Faerlain, he walked back to where Elrohir, Gimli, Legolas, and Thomas were sitting under a tree eating their own lunch. He was relieved when Thomas met his gaze steadily and seemed to be better rested than he had been the last few days. “Come along, Thomas, I want to find Pippin.” Without a word, Thomas scrambled to his feet and joined him, carrying his dried fruit and meat with him. Laegrist trailed behind. They walked in silence for a time, both of them eating and Aragorn nodding absently to the men that greeted him as they passed. Finally, Aragorn asked quietly, “How do you fare, Thomas? I have not had a chance to speak with you these last few days.”

Thomas hesitated only a moment, “I’m doing better, Aragorn. I’m still uneasy about the battle, but I’ll be all right,” he said firmly, glancing up at Aragorn.

“Good.” Aragorn clasped his shoulder briefly as they walked, “Your dreams have stopped, have they not?”

“You do notice everything, don’t you?” Thomas shook his head and gave Aragorn a half smile. “Yes, they have. Elrohir and I talked about some things and…,” he shrugged as they carefully walked around a rearing stallion that one of the Swan Knights was trying to settle.

“Hmmm, yes, Elrohir often spoke with me when I was younger and I could not speak with my Adar. Being three thousand years old does tend to give you a certain amount of wisdom,” Aragorn said dryly. He stopped and looked around with narrowed eyes and then turned and set off in a new direction as he located Pippin’s company and heard the hobbit’s high-pitched voice amidst all the thousands of men. “I am glad he could help you, Thomas, though I wish I would have been able to.” Thomas could hear a certain wistful tone in his voice.

“I know how busy you are, Aragorn. You told Rebecca and me not too long ago that your kingly duties would keep you occupied.”

“Strider! Thomas!” Pippin’s voice caught their attention and the hobbit ran toward them, weaving in and around the men sitting and eating.

“Hello, Pippin,” Thomas greeted him with a smile.

“Peregrin of the citadel guard,” Aragorn smiled faintly as he gazed down at the hobbit who stood at attention in front of him. “Are you faring well marching amongst your company?”

“I’m fine, Aragorn,” Pippin shrugged. “I’ve endured worse marching on this journey,” he laughed. “I seem to remember a certain ranger that made us march in the dark – from way before dawn until way after sunset. And I mean a real sunset.” He grinned saucily at Aragorn, who smiled.

Thomas laughed, “That’s why I’m glad I have a horse, Pip, I seem to remember a few days like that.”

Aragorn shook his head, “I do not think that Pippin truly enjoys riding on a horse, Thomas. A little too far off the ground, I suspect.” Pippin nodded. “No, walking it is for our young hobbit friend.”

“I had enough riding on horses when I was with Gandalf.” Pippin shuddered. “Walking is just fine.”

“Good,” Aragorn said. “Well, I just wanted to check on you while I had a moment. Be safe,” he clasped the hobbit’s shoulder briefly and turned to go, but Pippin threw his arms about him and hugged him tightly. “You too,” he whispered.

Pulling back away from Aragorn, Pippin looked at Thomas with a slightly worried expression and said, “You be careful, Thomas.” He hugged Thomas just as tightly.

“I will. You take care of yourself, Pip,” he said, awkwardly patting the hobbit’s back before turning and following Aragorn.

0-0-0-0-0

A mile and a half before they reached the area where the forces of Sauron were waiting to ambush them, archers snuck into the woods following ranger scouts Anborn and Beraid. They planned to circle around behind the enemy to keep them from escaping back into Mordor. The rest of the six thousand men continued slowly up the road, waiting to receive some word from Éomer that he had reached his position. A half mile from the bend in the road, Damrod crept out of the woods and sprinted up to Aragorn. “My lord, Éomer King is in place,” he panted, “and should be attacking any moment now.”

With a brisk nod to Damrod, Aragorn turned to Imrahil, “Signal the men, my Lord Prince.” As Imrahil did so, Aragorn touched his heels to Roheryn’s sides and led the column swiftly down the road. Rounding the bend, they could hear the clash of swords and the loud cries of men and orcs as they fought. More orcs and Easterlings flowed down the hill as Aragorn’s men came into the area. On the hill behind the orcs, the archers started shooting and driving even more of the enemy out of hiding.

Lying low on Roheryn’s back, Aragorn charged straight into their foe, flanked by Faerlain and Halbarad, whileAragorn's brothers, Thomas, and Legolas followed close behind. Andúril flashed as he swung it ruthlessly against the enemy that crossed his path. He sliced the throat of an orc and then Roheryn danced around and he thrust his sword through the heart of a man coming from behind. Spurring Roheryn forward, he knocked an orc down just as it was reaching for one of the Swan Knights and the creature fell under the hoofs to its death. “Aragorn, duck!” he instantly obeyed Halbarad’s command and heard the whoosh of an arrow overhead, then heard the grunt of pain as it hit one of the orcs on the far side of him. Aragorn smiled grimly at Halbarad as his cousin maneuvered his horse nearer and they continued to press their attack on Sauron’s forces.

0-0-0

Thomas took a deep breath as he rode into the battle. Elrohir had told him to stay mounted if at all possible, but it was something he had never done before and it added to his nervousness. He hoped he wouldn’t accidentally slice Baldor. Gripping his sword tightly, Thomas followed hard after Halbarad and alongside Elrohir and he heard Gimli yelling somewhere off to his left. Then they were in the midst of the enemy and his fear was gone. The horses knocked down many of the men and orcs before fierce fighting broke out. Thomas discovered that Baldor was well-trained for battle and knew how to move away from the enemy without his direction so he concentrated on fighting and let the horse take care of them both.

Thrusting his sword deep into the back of the first orc he saw, Thomas quickly pulled it out and turned to the other side of Baldor, meeting the blade of a man who was approaching from the right. They exchanged blows for a moment before Thomas kicked the man in the chest, causing him to stagger back a pace and allowing Thomas to stab him through the stomach and dropping him to the ground in agony. Looking around, he saw Elrohir surrounded by orcs and he urged Baldor forward and attacked from the side. Jabbing and slicing at the creatures, he fought his way through to the elf-lord and was slightly startled at the incredibly fierce and terrible expression on the face of the normally impassive looking elf. Nodding to each other, they continued fighting side-by-side.

0-0-0

From the front and a little to the side, Aragorn could see the Army of the West was swiftly overpowering Sauron’s forces and the enemy was starting to flee back up the mountains into Mordor. He called Halbarad to him, “Go tell the Fourth and Fifth Companies of the City Guard to go after them.” Halbarad hesitated, searching Aragorn’s face briefly, before nodding reluctantly, “Yes, my lord.” He turned and rode swiftly back to where some of the foot soldiers were waiting in reserve. Watching Halbarad for a moment, Aragorn then turned and rode off in search of Éomer, followed closely by Faerlain and Laegrist.

0-0-0

The Easterling’s sword caught him right across the shin. “Damn!” Thomas swore loudly even as he swiftly killed the man. Glancing down at his right leg, he could see a steady stream of blood flowing from the wound and his leg felt as if it were on fire. Continuing to swear softly under his breath, he fought on, though the battle was clearly won. Finally he pulled up and glanced around and seeing none of the enemy nearby, he carefully dismounted. Carefully wiping his sword off on the cloak of a dead Easterling, he sheathed it before looking at his leg. Since he was able to stand and walk on it, he knew it couldn’t be too bad. Thomas sat on the ground and slowly rolled up his leggings, muttering under his breath the whole time. There was too much blood to really see the wound so he got back to his feet and retrieved his waterskin, tearing off a piece of his shirt before sitting back down. He winced as he poured water over the cut. It appeared to be five to six inches long and fairly deep and in his vast and growing experience with sword injuries, he knew it would need to be stitched. Thomas sighed, thinking about all of the scars he had on his body, though this one wasn’t going to be too visible and the ones Elladan had sung over had rapidly faded.

Hoofbeats made Thomas look up as he was tightly tying the makeshift bandage around his leg. “Thomas, what happened?” Legolas’s concerned voice called as he leaped gracefully to the ground. Gimli followed, slowly sliding down off of Arod.

“One of the men sliced me open,” Thomas scowled, “right at the last, too.”

“Is it bad?” Gimli’s voice was also full of concern.

Thomas shook his head, “No, I don’t think so; I’ll need stitches… again. But, I can walk on it.”

Legolas and Gimli visibly relaxed. “Then we need to get you to a healer,” Legolas said.

“Oh, I think we can wait here and one will come to me,” Thomas smiled faintly and pointed with his chin to Elladan who was rapidly approaching.

Leaping lightly from his horse, Elladan looked Thomas over intently with his piercing eyes. Thomas noticed his expression almost mirrored the one he had seen on Elrohir's earlier, though he was obviously calming down from the blood lust that seemed to have overtaken him. "Easterling or orc, Thomas?" he asked abruptly.

"Easterling."

"Good, they do not often use poison," Elladan turned back to his horse and took his healing kit from his pack. Returning to Thomas, he took his waterskin and poured water on his hands to clean them as best he could. Unwrapping the bandage, he sang softly, as he quickly and expertly cleaned the wound before stitching it.

"You've done this before," Thomas remarked as he watched him work.

Elladan smiled faintly, "Once or twice." He tied on a new, clean bandage and sat back. "You need something for your pain, but I need a fire and hot water for that," he frowned and looked around. "There are other wounded over there and I am sure we will have to have fire to tend to them. Come along," he patted Thomas's shoulder and helped him stand and mount his horse. Thomas hissed softly as he settled his foot in the stirrup, but the pain had subsided to a steady throbbing sensation.

The four of them rode to where the wounded were being treated and Thomas realized how fortunate he had been when he saw the severe injuries that many of them had suffered. Some of the men were obviously going to die and even some of those who would live would be in constant pain. He swallowed hard as he looked at men who had lost limbs in the battle and he knew that in this world there was no help for them - only a painful death. Thomas gave Baldor's reins to Legolas and with a slight limp he slowly followed Elladan to a small fire where water was boiling. He patiently waited with his eyes fixed on the ground as the elf-lord fixed the herbal tea for him. He was startled when a hand grabbed his upper arm. "Thomas! What happened to you this time?"

"It's not serious," he replied, looking up into the concerned eyes of Aragorn. "One of the Easterlings sliced my leg open and Elladan just stitched it up. I'll be fine, Aragorn."

Aragorn glanced at Elladan who nodded and he relaxed, shaking his head. "Good, then I shall leave you in Elladan's hands for now," he paused briefly and looked Thomas up and down carefully. "When you have cleaned up, I need you to do some things for me, if you are able."

Thomas shrugged, "Oh sure, this isn't that bad. I've felt much worse." He took the cup of tea Elladan handed him and grimaced before quickly swallowing it. "Where will you be?"

"I will be helping the healers for awhile," Aragorn glanced around with sorrow filled eyes, "and then I will be meeting with Éomer, Imrahil, and Gandalf over there," he pointed to the northern end of the clearing along the road. "Meet me there after you have washed." Aragorn clasped Thomas's forearm tightly and strode briskly away to tend the wounded men.

"Thank you, Lord Elladan," Thomas turned to the elf, but he had already gone. Limply slightly, he made his way back to Legolas and Gimli.

"How do you feel, lad?" Gimli asked, eyeing him closely.

"Lucky," Thomas replied, gesturing to the men lying behind him. Dwarf and elf nodded and Legolas handed him Baldor's reins. "Aragorn needs me as soon as I've washed off," he said, glancing around at the battlefield with a frown.

"There is a stream down the hill," Legolas said, leading the way.

Joining the hundreds of other men along the stream, they washed off the blood, dirt, and sweat from their bodies. Walking around to where Thomas was to meet Aragorn they found that only Éomer had arrived.

"You appear to have injured yourself, Thomas," Éomer commented as the young man limped towards him.

"I didn't injure myself, Éomer, I had help," Thomas grinned. Éomer and Gimli laughed while Legolas just shook his head. Spying a log in the shade of a tree, he walked over and sat down with a sigh, followed by the others with Éomer and Gimli joining him on the log. "Will we move on tonight?" Thomas asked, glancing at Éomer.

"I imagine so, at least for a short distance. No one will want to stay anywhere close to here."

"How much farther is it?" Gimli asked, glancing from Legolas to Éomer

Éomer paused to give Legolas a chance to answer, but the elf shrugged slightly and looked away. "We should reach there late tomorrow night, though we will not attempt an attack until the next morning."

"Why not?" Gimli scowled fiercely at the king.

"Because our purpose, friend dwarf, is to delay as long as possible so that the Ringbearer has time to destroy the ring," Éomer's eyes darkened. "Spending another night will give him more time."

"I hope they're all right," Thomas whispered. No one responded.

Prince Imrahil and Gandalf walked up, talking quietly about their plans for the army. "Where is Aragorn?" Gandalf asked, his gaze sweeping over the assembled group.

"He's helping with the wounded," Thomas replied.

"Will you go and fetch him? Others will have to see to the wounded now."

"Sure," Thomas got to his feet and started away with his slight limp.

"Thomas," Gandalf called and Thomas looked back questioningly. "Why did you not say you were injured?"

"You didn't ask," he shrugged "and it doesn't hurt much." He noticed Prince Imrahil was watching him closely.

"Sit down, Legolas will go." The elf nodded and dashed away. Thomas sat back down after scowling briefly at Gandalf, who ignored him and the wizard continued his conversation with Imrahil and Éomer.

"Relax, Thomas," Gimli said, "he's just looking after you."

"I know," he smiled slightly and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. Aragorn shook him awake some time later and he sat up with a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry, Aragorn, I didn't mean to fall asleep. What did you need me to do?"

"You obviously needed the rest." Aragorn replied with a dismissive way of his hand. "I want you to ride around to all of the Gondorian companies and check on the number of dead, wounded, and missing men and then report back to me as soon as possible. Keep the tally on this," he handed Thomas a piece of parchment and a charcoal stick.

Nodding, Thomas set off to seek out the captains of the ten companies. Most of them were easy to find as they had gathered their men together in various spots around the battlefield. The man who commanded the Third Company was dead, so he spoke with Beregond instead. Within an hour Thomas returned to Aragorn and handed him the sheet. "The Third Company captain has died, Aragorn, so I talked to Beregond instead."

Aragorn looked up at him briefly before studying the parchment again. "Seventy-three dead and over two hundred wounded. None missing, though," he said to Imrahil and Gandalf. "I will put Beregond in charge of the Third Company before we move on." He glanced at Thomas, "Go and get him for me." Thomas left again and returned with Beregond riding behind him, much to Baldor's displeasure. "Beregond," Aragorn said, "I want you to take command of Third Company for me. I believe you know the men well."

"Yes, my Lord King Eles
gorn left me in Lothlórien because he wanted me to be safe," she gave him a weak smile. "But when Gandalf came to Lothlórien..." she paused, wondering how or if she should explain that Gandalf thought she had a purpose to fulfill with the Fellowship - something that made sense and would satisfy Faramir. Finally she just said, "Gandalf decided that I should continue with the Fellowship, so he took me with him and we caught up with Aragorn and the others."

Evidently either her pause or the answer did not sound quite right to him because he frowned and his eyes darkened slightly as he asked, "How did you come to be King Elessar's ward, Lady Rebecca?"

"My parents died," she whispered, blinking back tears as she tried desperately to think of a way to change the subject.

But Faramir would not be dissuaded, though he did say gently, "I am sorry for your loss, I too know what it is like to lose both parents." He paused briefly, "Have you been his ward for long?" he continued, though his voice was kind. Rebecca shook her head, but did not otherwise answer. She had decided she would not lie to him outright and she just hoped he would not ask certain questions. "It is strange for a wandering ranger to have two wards," he remarked, his piercing gaze never leaving her face, though she did not meet his eyes. "Lady Rebecca, I heard Merry wondering if you were sent here for some reason. What did he mean?"

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To be continued...

Elvish translations:

Adar - Father

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To my wonderful reviewers: Thanks so much for your kind words! I appreciate each and every one of them. Radbooks


Chapter 25 - Confrontation

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to J for beta reading this chapter for me!

Words in italics are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.


Chapter 25 – Confrontation


Riding out of the last of the thinning trees that marked the northern most point of Ithilien, Aragorn scowled at the memories the landscape before him brought to mind. The last time he had crossed this grey, arid land located at the northernmost tip of the Mountains of Shadow, he had been dragging a snarling, whining Gollum with him. The long weeks spent in that wretched creature’s company as he dragged him to Mirkwood were not pleasant ones and he had been incredibly relieved to leave him in King Thranduil’s care. Aragorn frowned as he worried about Frodo and Sam and he wondered once again if Gollum would bring some harm to them. Still, there was nothing he could do for them except play out the role he had set for himself and pray they would destroy the ring… hopefully sometime soon, he mused wryly to himself.

“Aragorn,” Halbarad hissed as he rode up beside him, “there is a problem with some of the men.”

Aragorn turned in his saddle to see that men had stopped marching or riding while others flowed around them and there was a general air of confusion near the edge of the forest. Giving Halbarad a puzzled look, he wheeled Roheryn around, cantering back along the column. Slowing to a walk as he passed the first of these men, comprehension started to come to him. These men were paralyzed with fear at their first sight of the lands of Mordor. The place had only ever been a myth to them, a place of horrible evil and now to see it in the flesh was overwhelming to these men from both Gondor and Rohan alike. Pity stirred Aragorn’s heart as he saw their fear and their youth and he knew he could not compel them to go on, even in the face of his great need.

Raising his voice so that all of the large group of foot and horse soldiers could hear him, he addressed them with compassion in his eyes, yet with a firm voice. “Fear has taken your heart, but do not flee as those who have no honor,” Aragorn’s eyes flitted from man to man as he continued. “I have a task for you that may be within your strength and ability. I believe the island of Cair Andros is still held by the enemy and it would be a great service to the peoples of the West if it were re-taken.” There was a stirring in the ranks as men looked at each other and talked quietly and Aragorn could see expressions of relief cross their faces. Men began slipping away back into the forest, while he noticed other men hurrying off to re-join their companies. Whether they were somehow heartened that he did not condemn them or felt guilt, he did not know. With an inward sigh, he turned to head back to the front of the column, figuring that combined with the men they had left behind at the Cross-roads and the ones lost in the battle, that they now had fewer then 6,000 men to face the strength of Mordor.

The Army of the West pushed on into the dusty, desolate Morannon, swinging well away from the foothills and any hidden traps they might conceal. Aragorn knew this area better than anyone here and was aiming for a place several miles north of the Black Gate to spend the night before launching their assault in the morning. The land was becoming increasingly littered with piles of debris and slag hills from Sauron’s mines. Deep pits also dotted the ground and Aragorn carefully led the army around those.

Late in the day, Aragorn turned to Halbarad and asked, “Do you see that jumble of six or seven large rocks slightly to the left?” Halbarad stood slightly in his stirrups and stared ahead with narrowed eyes for a moment before nodding. “Will you take a small group ahead and make sure the area is safe? That is where I plan on stopping and sometimes orcs hide among the rocks. But if you do not venture too close, you should be safe enough.”

“Yes, my lord,” Halbarad said. Turning slightly around, he began calling out names. “I need Captain Caladithil, Alvist, Hinhael, Pendem, Damrod, Rilost, Anborn, Beraid, Hinluin, and Thomas.” Aragorn glanced at Halbarad in surprise when he called Thomas’s name, though he said nothing as he watched them gallop off.

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Thomas was daydreaming in the saddle when he heard Halbarad call his name. Straightening up, he glanced around to see Hinluin trotting forward so he nudged Baldor forward as well. He kept his face impassive as Halbarad explained what they were going to do, but he was shocked. No one had ever asked him to do anything like this before, and he was excited, scared, and nervous. Glancing around at the other men from the corners of his eyes he thought a couple of the scouts from Faramir’s rangers might be close to his age, but he knew most were older men. It felt strange riding out of the protection of the main group and Thomas kept a sharp watch around him as they galloped, kicking up a thick grey dust as they went. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the horrible stench of the air that steadily grew worse. Slowing as they approached the rocks, most of the men pulled their bows from their shoulders and nocked arrows, much to his dismay. He still carried the one Haldir had given him in Lothlórien, but had not used it since the time he had practiced with Rebecca in Edoras and had never used one from horseback. He pulled his sword instead. Halbarad brought them to a halt about a hundred yards away from the strange rock formation and Thomas could easily see how any number of orcs or men could hide in the clefts and small caves that he could see in the shadowy twilight. He shivered as he stared around curiously, he could sense some… evil foreboding that hung around the whole area and he wrapped his cloak tighter about himself.

“We’ll split up and circle around,” Halbarad said. “Captain Caladithil, you take Pendem, Hinhael, Damrod, and Beraid and I’ll take the others.” Nodding, the Captain turned to the left and set off with his men spread out on either side of him. Thomas and the others also spread out and he realized the men were studying the ground as they rode and he assumed they were looking for tracks. He rode alongside Hinluin and the young ranger gave him a quick grin, but then quickly turned his attention back to the ground.

A slight noise caught their attention and everyone froze, looking around for the source. “In the rocks to the right of that small cave,” Anborn said in a low voice that nonetheless carried to all the men. Thomas saw three, no four large wargs creeping out from between the crack where two of the large rocks joined together. There were huge, even larger than the ones he had fought before they entered Moria.

“Anborn, take Alvist and Hinluin and circle to the left. Rilost and Thomas come with me to the right. Go slowly and maybe we can split them. Don’t go closer than fifty yards to the rocks and watch for orcs,” Halbarad ordered. Anborn nodded and started left. Thomas tightened his grip on his sword and wished he had practiced his archery. Trailing behind Halbarad and Rilost, Thomas kept glancing between the wargs and the rocks behind them, searching for movement. The beasts seemed uncertain as they crept out of the overhang that had sheltered them, their great heads swinging from side to side sniffing the air and growling as they appeared to watch each group of circling men.

Suddenly, in a blinding, snarling flash, all four of the wargs charged the group on the right. Halbarad and Rilost quickly loosed arrows at them, while Thomas could only wait until they came closer and he could use his sword. He stared at them wide-eyed and swallowed hard as they swiftly approached. One of the creatures finally fell head over heels in a crumbled heap from the arrows that Halbarad and Rilost were shooting, but the others had seemingly been unaffected. Thomas shot a quick glance at the other group of scouts and saw that they were galloping their way, but he feared they would not make it in time to be of any help. The wargs were on them then and Thomas whirled Baldor out of the way of the warg that leaped at him, slicing at the creature as it flew past, cutting a deep gash in it’s back. He could see several arrows stuck in the fur, but evidently they had not penetrated deep enough to seriously injury it. The warg turned and came back at him and Thomas was amazed at how quick it was as he desperately slashed at it’s face. As the warg snapped at him with its razor sharp teeth, he sliced it deeply across the chest and ducked out of the way of the jaws, pulling Baldor back as he did so. Baldor reared slightly and to his horror, Thomas felt himself falling backwards off the horse landing hard on his bottom, still tightly gripping his sword. The warg turned and was attacking him just as Thomas scrambled to his feet and he frantically moved to the side trying to get out of the way of it’s charge, but the warg was too quick and he ended up facing it head on. He slashed at it’s face again, and it roared in pain as his sword cut across both it’s eyes. He ducked under the giant head as it turned towards him and then rammed his sword straight up under the beast’s throat, impaling it deeply and the creature dropped straight down on him, it’s blood flowing all over him. Sputtering and blinking rapidly, Thomas pushed his way out from under the creature and was cautiously looking around, when he was suddenly grabbed by the upper arm and yanked to his feet.

“Thomas! Are you all right?” Halbarad’s anxious voice yelled in his ear.

“I’m fine, stop yelling,” he exclaimed, panting hard and trying to wipe the blood from his face. But when he looked at Halbarad and saw the concern in his eyes, Thomas said more quietly, “I’m really all right, Halbarad, this isn’t my blood, it’s all this thing’s blood,” he kicked the warg before leaning over and cleaning his sword off on the fur.

Halbarad nodded, looking him over carefully one last time and patted his shoulder, “Good, then mount up,” he turned and remounted his own horse.

Thomas looked around for Baldor and nodded his thanks to Hinluin as he handed him the horse’s reins. The ranger also searched in his pack for a moment and tossed him a piece of cloth torn from a shirt, “Here, clean yourself off,”

“Thanks.” Thomas wiped off his face, hands, and hair as best he could with the cloth, shuddering at the smell and knowing it would be a long time until he could get really clean since there was no extra water out here on the Morannon. Though, he thought ruefully, I could be dead by tomorrow at this time, so I suppose it won’t matter. He tossed the cloth back to Hinluin, who grimaced, as they continued around the rocks, searching for any more sign of the enemy.

Meeting up with the other half of their party they found that they had not seen any tracks or any sign to indicate that the enemy had been there recently. With a last look around, Halbarad led them back to the main body of the army. As Thomas rode past Aragorn intending to return to his place in line, he stopped when Aragorn looked at him sharply and motioned for him to wait. He pulled Baldor around in a tight circle and rode alongside Aragorn and listened as he talked with Halbarad. “Except for the wargs hiding in the rocks, there were no other signs of the enemy, my lord,” Halbarad said, “We can camp there.”

“All right, thank you Halbarad,” Aragorn said, nodding in dismissal. Halbarad slowed his horse slightly and dropped back in line. After a moment, Aragorn turned to Thomas and looked him up and down. “I assume that is warg blood and not your own.”

Thomas grimaced, “It is warg blood. It landed on me right after I cut it’s throat,” he shook his head in disgust.

“Why were you off your horse, Thomas?” Aragorn’s gaze was questioning and his voice was concerned.

“I fell,” Thomas grimaced again. “I was trying to back away and I pulled too hard or something and Baldor,” he patted the horse’s neck, “reared slightly and I just slipped off.”

Aragorn raised his eyebrows, “Then you did very well, Thomas, to come away covered only with it’s blood and not your own.”

“I suppose so, but it’s still disgusting, Aragorn,” he replied looking down at himself.

Smiling faintly, Aragorn shook his head, “I am glad you are still here to feel such disgust.” Thomas nodded, returning his smile. “Do you have any spare clothes left?”

“Yes, I think I have a… no, I wore that one and it got ripped up too. No, Aragorn this was my last shirt,” Thomas said sadly.

Without a word, Aragorn twisted around in his saddle and started digging through his pack. Pulling out a clean, but rumpled dark green shirt, he handed it to Thomas. “Here, take this. You may as well be comfortable tonight at least.”

“Thanks.” Thomas carefully tucked the shirt in his pack to keep it safe until they got into camp and he could clean up a bit more. He glanced around, suddenly self-conscious at riding at the head of the army, and he wondered if he should return to his former place in line.

“You may ride alongside me, Thomas,” Aragorn said, giving him a sidelong look. Thomas nodded and they rode on towards the rocks, talking quietly.


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All the color drained from Rebecca’s face at Faramir’s question and she shifted uneasily on her feet as she tried to think of some response to give him. She felt Faramir grab her elbow to steady her.

“Are you all right, Lady Rebecca?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “Come and sit down.” He led her over to the bench and helped her sit before settling down beside her. “I did not mean to upset you, but I have been confused about many things regarding you for several days now and Merry’s comment yesterday just added to my confusion.”

Rebecca looked up at Faramir as he stopped speaking to find him regarding her with puzzled, yet kind eyes that so reminded her of Boromir. She bit her lip nervously and continued to absently play with the cords on her sling. Still not sure how to answer him, she instead asked him, “What confuses you?”

Faramir gave her a knowing smile at her evasive tactic and she flushed and looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes once again. “I do not understand why my Lord King brought a young girl with him on such a dangerous journey. And then, as you yourself told me, he left you behind in Lothlórien to keep you safe, but if he wanted you to be safe, why did he bring you in the first place?” He studied her intently and his eyes were full of questions, but she made no response so he continued. “Yet, Mithrandir felt you should be with the King and the others, so he brought you with him and again that is something that I do not understand, that a young girl could have such a role in this war that a wizard looks after her.” Faramir shook his head as he continued to watch her. “It surprises me that you have been taught the use of weapons and of healing, yet you learned those skills in Lothlórien, not in Imladris or wherever you are from.” Rebecca shifted her gaze to the ground. “The book of tales I gave you are common stories in Gondor and most would have heard them at least and you obviously had not. All of those things together seem strange to me and with Merry’s comment, again I have to ask, what does it mean? From where were you sent?” His eyes darkened as he looked down at Rebecca and she struggled to respond.

Rebecca shook her head, “I’m… I’m not supposed to talk about it, Faramir. Aragorn and Gandalf told me not to and I doubt you would believe me anyway.”

Faramir sat back with a sigh as he continued to study her, “Then I shall not press you, Lady Rebecca, for I would not have you go against what my lord and Mithrandir have told you. However, I assure you that there is nothing you could tell me that I would not believe.

Staring out at the horizon, Rebecca spoke slowly, “There are some things, Faramir, that even you would have a hard time believing. If…” she turned her gaze back to him, “If they don’t come back, then I will tell you everything. Though, I’ll have Merry here to help me explain things.”

“I’m here now, what do you need?” Merry’s voice from behind caused them both to start. The hobbit walked around the bench and looked from Rebecca to Faramir and back, his smile fading. “What’s the matter, Rebecca?” he asked.

“I’m all right, Merry” she replied quickly to reassure him. “It’s just Faramir was asking me some questions that I-I couldn’t answer. He heard what you said yesterday.”

“Oh, I see,” Merry frowned at the Steward briefly and then stared at the ground for a moment. “Perhaps… perhaps you should tell him, Rebecca.”

“How can you say that, Merry?” she asked, looking at the hobbit in disbelief.

Merry shrugged, “Lord Faramir obviously knows something is going on.” They both glanced at the Steward who nodded and Rebecca noticed he was watching them intently with a hint of both curiosity and hopefulness in his eyes. She turned back to Merry.

“But, Merry, Aragorn and Gandalf told me and Thomas not to tell anyone.”

“And I told Lady Rebecca I will not ask her any more questions on account of that,” Faramir informed the hobbit.

Merry shrugged again, “Yes, I know Rebecca. But that was in Rohan and not… not to Boromir’s brother.” He took a deep breath and looked away for a moment. “I’m sure that Aragorn plans to tell Lord Faramir about you and Thomas when he comes back.”

“He said as much to me before I even met you,” Faramir commented. “But, Lady Rebecca, as curious as I am, and I will admit this conversation has made me even more so, I can wait for my Lord King to return.”

Rebecca stared down at her feet for a long time as she thought back to the conversation with Aragorn and Gandalf before they arrived in Edoras. They had been speaking of the suspicious nature of the people of Rohan and how they treated strangers. But, she also remembered Aragorn’s comment that he didn’t think he would believe them if he hadn’t found them himself. Still, Rebecca didn’t want to live her whole life here with only a few people knowing who she really was. And, since Faramir was Boromir’s brother and Aragorn trusted him, maybe she could start with him.

Casting a quick glance at Merry and receiving an encouraging smile, Rebecca half turned on the bench to face Faramir more directly. She looked searchingly at him for a moment and he smiled faintly in return. “Faramir, you can’t tell anyone else about this and I’m only going to tell you because you’re Boromir’s brother and because I trust you. Only a few people know about Thomas and me, the members of the Fellowship, Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbarad.”

“I will not violate your trust, Lady Rebecca, but truly no one else knows?” Rebecca shook her head and Faramir leaned back with even more confusion, if that were possible, in his eyes.

“The elves know, Rebecca,” Merry reminded her.

“Oh, right,” she mumbled, “that’s why you need to be here, Merry. Yes, the elves in Lothlórien know.” Rebecca paused trying to decide how to start and finally she looked up and met Faramir’s eyes and gave him a tentative smile. “Well, the Fellowship found me and Thomas about a week after they left Rivendell. We were both injured and lying on the ground unconscious.” She watched Faramir’s expression go instantly to one of grave concern.

“That is when you broke your wrist.”

Rebecca nodded and continued, “Aragorn tended our wounds, of course, and they waited for us to awake.” She took a deep breath. “This is where it gets strange, Faramir. When I awoke, I found myself surrounded by men I didn’t know. Not even Thomas, I’d never seen him before either.” Faramir frowned, but made no comment. Rebecca bit her lip and glanced at Merry once again. “At least I thought they were all men, but that was because my world doesn’t have elves, dwarves, or hobbits.” She watched as Faramir stared at her for a moment and then he blinked rapidly, sat up straight and glanced at Merry before looking back at her.

“Your world?” he asked in a low voice full of disbelief and bewilderment. “What do you mean your world? There is only this world.”

“I thought there was only one world too, Faramir… my world and this isn’t it,” Rebecca looked at him beseechingly as she saw the doubt and growing anger in his dark eyes. “I don’t know how it happened, none of us do. All we know for sure is that Thomas and I were on a bus - and I’ll explain that some other time - in our world and there was a snowstorm and an accident, and an explosion,” she frowned in remembrance, “and then Thomas and I woke up here. All alone,” she added as an afterthought. She glanced at Merry as he had crept closer to the bench and squeezed her hand.

“Boromir and the rest of you believed this… this story?” Faramir asked Merry sharply, ignoring Rebecca completely.

“Yes, though I’ll admit it was difficult for all of us at first. But, if you had seen them, their injuries, their hair, and their strange clothes…” Faramir turned and looked at Rebecca and she recoiled, trying to get away from his intense, piercing gaze and he immediately softened his expression.

“All those clothes are gone now, Faramir,” she said quietly. “They weren’t made for the kind of traveling we did and they were really torn up by the time we got to Lothlórien. The elves gave me these clothes.”

Faramir nodded and looked at Merry again. “We found them in a clearing and Aragorn and Legolas searched all around for tracks and there weren’t any that led into that clearing. They just appeared there. Then, neither of them knew anything about Middle Earth at all. Nothing about dwarves, elves, hobbits, the Valar and didn’t even know basic things like how to drink from a waterskin or how to use a flint and tinder.” Merry smiled at Rebecca and she blushed faintly. “They are definitely not from Middle Earth, my Lord Steward,” the hobbit’s voice was firm and unyielding as he stared at Faramir.

Getting slowly to his feet, Faramir walked to the wall and stared out into the distance. Rebecca watched him, wondering what was going through his mind and what she would do if he didn’t believe her. She sighed inwardly, realizing she should have thought of that before now. Merry joined her on the bench and whispered, “It’ll be fine, Rebecca. Faramir’s a wise man and he’ll see that Aragorn and Gandalf and his brother would not be easily fooled. But it’s hard to believe, even for me and I was there!” he smiled and Rebecca nodded.

Finally, after what seem like hours to Rebecca, but was probably less than ten minutes, Faramir turned and looked at them, leaning back against the wall. “As strange as this story is, it does explain many questions I have been asking myself about you, Lady Rebecca. And if Mithrandir, my brother, and my new King, along with various elves and hobbits,” he bowed slightly to Merry, who grinned, “say it is true, then I am going to trust it is the truth. Though, I must admit that it seems impossible to me,” the Steward shook his head as his gaze never left Rebecca’s face. “The ways of the Valar, however, are most often beyond my understanding. My next question is why were you sent here?”

Rebecca shrugged, “We don’t know. Gandalf and Lady Galadriel say your Valar have some plan… though I wish they would tell me what it is.” She sighed, “I told Lady Galadriel that if I knew why I was here then I would do whatever I was supposed to do so I could go home.” Rebecca frowned and looked away for a minute. “But she said I might be here forever, so that’s why she had me learn healing skills; she sensed I had a gift for it. It certainly was useful at Helm’s Deep,” she said, shuddering.

“Maybe you came so you could save Halbarad,” Merry remarked.

“Maybe,” she agreed, “Or, there have been any number of other things that have happened that it could have been.” Rebecca did not want to tell them about the incident at Helm’s Deep with Aragorn and Éomer. “I may never know.” She paused for a moment, frowning thoughtfully, “Sometimes, I think Gandalf has some idea since he came back to life, but…” her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Faramir walked back to the bench and sat down next to Merry, his eyes searching Rebecca’s face intently, though his expression had softened. “Forgive me, Lady Rebecca, if I frightened you, it was not my intention to do so.”

“I know you weren’t trying to, Faramir and I wasn’t exactly frightened… well, maybe just a little bit,” she confessed with a small smile.

“Not today,” Faramir said, glancing up at the sky, “but soon, I would like to speak with you again and learn more of your world. You have given me much to think on.”

“I’d like to hear more, too,” Merry said, “you were awfully quiet in Lothlórien when we talked about our homes.”

Rebecca glanced at the hobbit for a moment and then looked away, “It was too hard, Merry. I hadn’t been here for very long and it hurt too much to talk about home. It’s easier for me now.”

Merry took her hand and squeezed it gently, “We should have realized, Rebecca.” She shrugged slightly.

“I must take my leave of you,” Faramir said as he stood, “to speak with the Warden. Lady Rebecca,” he took her hand and kissed it gently, “thank you for telling me even though I know it has been difficult for you.”

“I’m glad I told you, Faramir. It’s nice to have someone else here that knows who I truly am.”

Faramir nodded slightly and strode swiftly away into the Houses. Rebecca watched him go, feeling slightly uneasy and slightly guilty that she had told him. But, she also knew that he had deserved some sort of answers to the questions she and Merry had inadvertently raised. She sighed quietly, hoping that if and when Aragorn and Gandalf returned they would agree with her decision.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Large fires enclosed the Army of the West where they camped and hundreds of men patrolled the perimeter while the men rested. Few, if any, slept that night. Fear of the upcoming battle and the noises of prowling wargs and orcs kept everyone on edge. After a few quick words, Aragorn sent Éomer off to be with his men and Imrahil to be with his sons, Elphir and Erchirion. Aragorn walked around the camp for awhile, speaking briefly with and encouraging his men before joining his brothers, and Halbarad, Legolas, Thomas, Gandalf, and Gimli at a small fire near the center of the camp. He settled himself in between Halbarad and Legolas as they sat listening to the story Elrohir was telling. He watched the fire with hooded eyes as he listened to Elrohir’s soothing voice,.

Aragorn’s thoughts drifted from Arwen, to his Adar, to his Naneth and then to various things he had seen and done in his long life. Growing up in Imladris, leading the Dúnadain, the long years serving in Rohan and Gondor as Thorongil, the time he had spent in Harad, and, most recently, guarding the free peoples all around Eriador. Yet, the only thing he had ever really desired was to marry Arwen and unless, by some miracle, they prevailed tomorrow, that would never happen. Sighing inwardly, he deliberately pulled his thoughts back to the present.

Glancing around the circle of those he cared for, Aragorn’s gaze fell on two people, Thomas and Legolas. Thomas appeared to be almost asleep with his head on his pulled up knees, but watching him closely for a moment, Aragorn saw his half-closed eyes darting rapidly back and forth as the sounds of wargs or orcs moved closer to one side of the encampment or another. Legolas’s face was a blank mask unless you knew him well and Aragorn could see the sorrow reflected in the depths of his eyes as he turned to look at his friend.

“Do your thoughts dwell on those who have fought here before, mellon nín?” he asked quietly, knowing that Legolas’s grandfather had died here in the battle of the Last Alliance three thousand years ago.

Legolas nodded once, “I sense the spirits of those who died here, Aragorn. Of course, I never met my Daeradar and my Adar does not often speak of him or the battle that was fought here, but being here brings him to mind and I wonder about him.”

“My Adar rarely speaks of the battle either. Losing Gil-Galad was very painful for him; Gil-Galad was like a father to him. We spoke of it when discussing Isildur and the Ring, but I usually went to Erestor or Glorfindel if I had questions.”

“I learned about my Daeradar from my Naneth and other people. He sounds like he was very much like my Adar and I look forward to meeting him someday when he is released from Mandos’ Halls,” Legolas said.

Aragorn nodded and they lapsed into silence. His eyes shifted back to Thomas and he saw that Gandalf was speaking with the young man who nodded occasionally. Aragorn wanted to speak with him at some point, but knew it was a long night and he somehow doubted that either of them would be getting much sleep.


0-0-0

Thomas half listened as Elrohir told stories of Elladan and himself and their adventures growing up in Imladris and the times they rode with the rangers. Most of the stories were light-hearted and humorous, but Thomas was more absorbed in listening to the wargs and orcs he could hear prowling around the outside of the camp. He knew they were safe inside the camp, but it just served to remind him of the upcoming battle.

Looking up at Gandalf as the wizard placed a hand on his shoulder, Thomas was surprised to see the depth of sorrow in his ancient blue eyes. “Remember that whatever happens, Thomas, your purpose here will be, or has already been, fulfilled, even if you never know what it was.”

Not knowing how to respond to a statement like that, Thomas simply nodded.

“Do you regret coming to Middle Earth?”

Thomas looked at him blankly, wondering if he were serious. Deciding the wizard was, he answered slowly, “Well, I never was given a choice, Gandalf.” Gandalf nodded once. “Do you mean besides the fact that I might die tomorrow?”

“In your world you may already be dead,” Gandalf pointed out.

Thomas shrugged, “I suppose that’s true. Well, I never would have met Rebecca if I hadn’t come here, so that’s a wonderful thing. And, I wouldn’t have met Aragorn or any of the rest of you, so those are good things. But, the battles and the killing have been truly horrible, Gandalf. So, I have very mixed feelings about this place. I’m not sure this is the best time to ask me,” he said dryly.

“Probably not, yet I was curious and we have had little time to talk,” Gandalf gazed at him intently and Thomas was suddenly reminded of the great power Gandalf had. He tended to forget about it since he was so often around the wizard, but sometimes Gandalf would do or say something that made his power obvious and right now was one of those times. Thomas wasn’t sure why, but for some reason he felt like Gandalf was reading his heart or his mind, like Galadriel could do. Not sure what to say, he just responded to the comment the wizard had made.

“You are always so busy… you have a whole world to save,” Thomas said, giving the wizard a half smile.

Gandalf patted him gently on the shoulder, “I cannot save Middle Earth, Thomas, only Frodo and Samwise can do that.”

Thomas nodded and Gandalf turned to speak with Gimli, leaving Thomas to wonder what the whole conversation had really been about.


0-0-0

Aragorn stood and stretched before motioning for Thomas to join him. It was an hour before dawn and Aragorn knew he would need to leave soon. He knew Thomas had dozed fitfully during the night and had not wanted to disturb him earlier.

“Yes, Aragorn?” Thomas asked, rubbing at his blood-shot eyes.

“I wanted to speak with you,” Aragorn slipped his arm around Thomas’s shoulder and led him a short distance away from their fire. “Stay with my rangers today, though some will accompany me to the Black Gate itself and you will not.”

“Why not?” Thomas frowned.

“Because only the leaders, those who represent the other races of Middle Earth, and some guards will accompany me and Gandalf.”

“Oh. I could be a guard, Aragorn.”

“You could,” Aragorn acknowledged. “However, there are many of my rangers who have fought at my side for thirty to forty years, Thomas, and they now consider it a great honor to serve as my personal guard. I will not replace them, not even for you. I want you to stay near Hinluin, Alvist, Pendem, and the rest of the rangers.”

Thomas nodded reluctantly, “All right, Aragorn.”

Aragorn drew Thomas into a firm embrace, startling Thomas for a moment before he relaxed and enjoyed the comfort the embrace provided. Releasing Thomas, Aragorn stepped back and gazed at him steadily for a long moment before sighing softly. “Whatever happens today, know that I care for you. I am proud of you and the man you have become.”

“Thank you,” Thomas whispered. “I-I care for you too, Aragorn.”

“If it is our fate to die here this day, then know that we shall meet beyond the circles of this world in the place Eru has set aside for us.”

Thomas looked at Aragorn with stricken eyes. “Will I go there? Or will I return to my own world or my own heaven? I truly might never see you again.” His voice was anguished and he blinked back tears.

“I had not considered that, Thomas,” Aragorn shook his head and his eyes filled with sorrow. “We can only trust in the goodness of Eru and hope that we shall be together. Perhaps our worlds are connected somehow.”

Thomas nodded and a glimmer of hope lightened his eyes. “The best thing would be to stay alive,” he said quietly.

“Indeed.” Aragorn glanced around and saw Éomer and Imrahil making their way towards him. “Be safe, ion-nín.”

“You too, Aragorn,” Thomas replied, wondering what the elvish meant, but figuring it was probably some kind of nickname. He’d try and remember to ask him later… if there was such a thing, he reminded himself.


0-0-0

The Army of the West broke camp early to begin their assault on the Black Gate. The wargs and orcs that had plagued them during the night had withdrawn from sight, though they could still be heard and the presence of the Nazgúl flying overhead continued to sap the hearts of the men. It took a little over an hour for them to reach the Gate that served both to keep out Sauron’s enemies as well as to keep in his slaves. The high stone walls and iron gate stretched for three quarters of a mile between two high towers that were built into the cliffs of the Mountains of Shadow to the west and the Ash Mountains to the north.

After consulting with Éomer, Imrahil, Gandalf, Elladan, and Elrohir, Aragorn arranged the army on two large slag hills a half mile from the Gate. Éomer and Imrahil would take charge of one hill, while Aragorn and Gandalf would take charge of the other. Satisfied that it was the best they could do with as few forces as they had, Aragorn prepared to ride to the Gate itself. “Halbarad,” he called and his cousin rode up to him. “I know the heralds have carried my banner thus far, but I would have you carry it for me this day.”

“It would be an honor, my Lord King Aragorn,” Halbarad looked at his cousin with glittering eyes and Aragorn was forced to look away and he rode forward towards the group that made up the embassy that was going to approach the Gate. With a brisk nod, Gandalf and Éomer fell in on either side of him, while the others followed close behind.

They rode swiftly forward, banners flapping briskly in the stale, choking wind. Pulling up a couple of hundred feet before the two smaller gates, they warily dismounted leaving their horses in the hands of some of the guards. Aragorn signaled to the heralds who blew their trumpets and then called out:

“Come forth! Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! Justice shall be done upon him. For wrongfully he has made war upon Gondor and wrested its lands. Therefore the King of Gondor demands that he should atone for his evil, and depart then for ever. Come forth!

The heralds hurried back to the horses and Aragorn could read the fear in their eyes as they passed.

Nothing stirred for a long time and then slowly one of the gates opened, creaking and groaning. Aragorn watched, slightly stunned as a mixed group of Sauron’s forces approached led by some type of… creature. He could tell that it was or had once been a man, but that had obviously been many years ago. It and its men dismounted and approached with a cocky air that was evident to the men of the West.

“I am the Mouth of Sauron,” he announced arrogantly, “and I see none here that may do justice upon my Lord. There is no King in Gondor.” His gaze landed on Aragorn.

Aragorn just looked at this mouthpiece with his piercing grey eyes, but did not otherwise respond. When the creature quailed under his intense stare, he felt a measure of satisfaction, yet it was short-lived as he saw Frodo’s mithril shirt, Sam’s sword, and a small elven cloak appear in the hands of the creature. Aragorn wanted to cry out his frustration and anguish as Pippin did, yet steeled his heart and features as he often had to. He glanced at Gandalf and saw the wizard’s face had gone grey with shock, but his voice was surprisingly steady as he responded negatively to the Mouth’s demand that the peoples of the West submit to Sauron’s rule in exchange for this prisoner they held.

Furrowing his brow slightly, Aragorn exchanged a puzzled glance with Legolas and Gimli. He wondered why there was only one prisoner being mentioned. They had Frodo’s clothing, but Sam’s sword. At least one of them was still free, he realized. He did not know which hobbit they had and Aragorn grieved inwardly at the thought of either of them in the hands of Sauron. But whichever hobbit was free obviously still had the Ring, otherwise Sauron would not be bargaining with them. A spark of hope re-kindled in Aragorn’s heart, if not for himself, then for his people.

“We will take these!” Gandalf’s booming voice rang out loudly as he grabbed Frodo’s and Sam’s things from the Mouth of Sauron.

“You have sealed your doom, then” the creature laughingly hissed. The great doors began to open to reveal large troops of Easterlings and Haradrim pushing forward and orcs began to pour out from the towers on the sides.

“Get back!” Aragorn quickly ordered and they rushed to their horses and swiftly galloped back to their men, loosing their horses to make their way to safety before joining their men on their respective hills. Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, and Gandalf rushed to the crest of the hill, where they would have a commanding view of the battlefield. Thomas glanced at them as they passed, shifting nervously on his feet on the uneven footing the slag hill provided as he watched the horde of orcs and men approaching. Legolas and Gimli joined him where he stood amidst the rangers, slightly below where Aragorn now barked out orders. The air suddenly rang with the twang of bowstrings.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Slowly awakening in the semi-darkness that passed for morning, Rebecca sat up quickly with a gasp. Something was wrong. She could feel it in the very air, which was charged with even more tension than usual. Suddenly she knew what it was; the army had reached the Black Gate. “Valar, help them,” she whispered, not sure if that was the right way to ‘pray’ here in Middle Earth, but not knowing what else to say. She gingerly got to her feet, aware now of the pain her earlier abrupt movements had caused. Struggling with the sleeping garment, Rebecca finally managed to get it over her head and she realized how much she had come to rely on Lothrín’s help. After slipping on her leggings, she looked at her shirt with a slight frown before worming her way into it, carefully sliding it over her splint. She was starting to button the tunic when there was a soft knock on the door and Lothrín walked in.

“Lady Rebecca, why are you up already?” The aide quickly moved to her and finished buttoning the tunic. “You shouldn’t be dressing yourself,” she scolded as she took Rebecca’s sling from the table and gently placed it around her splinted left arm before tying it around her neck.

“I need to go outside, Mistress Lothrín,” Rebecca replied urgently. “I have to see what’s going on.”

“See what, lady? You can’t see anything from here except dark clouds. You need to eat breakfast before you go to the gardens.”

“I’m not hungry,” Rebecca protested, shaking her head.

“You need to eat something, you need to recover your strength.” Lothrín’s eyes searched Rebecca’s for a moment and then she sighed. “Will you eat something if I bring it out to you?”

“I’ll try,” Rebecca replied, making no promises.

“Then wrap yourself warmly in your cloak and I’ll join you shortly.”

Nodding, Rebecca grabbed her cloak and followed Lothrín out the door. She hesitated and then knocked on Merry’s door, which was quickly thrown open. “I’m sorry if I’m bothering you, Merry, but I’m going outside and I-I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I’ll get my cloak,” he spun on his heel and went to retrieve it. “I was going outside in a minute anyway,” Merry commented as they walked down the hallway. “Something bad is happening, Rebecca.”

“I know. They’re there now,” she whispered as they walked outside and crossed the grass to the wall, their eyes fixed firmly to the east. Roiling black clouds covered the northern most points of the Mountains of Shadow. The air was stifling and hard to breathe. “Do you think they are fighting now, Merry?” she asked.

“Yes, they are, that is all that this could be” a grim, low voice caused them both to look back to discover that Faramir and Éowyn had joined them. Both had almost identical expressions of sorrow on their faces, though Éowyn’s was decidedly paler. Glancing around the garden, Rebecca saw that many of the other patients had come outside and were also looking to the Mountains of Shadow and talking quietly to one another.

“Poor Pippin,” Merry murmured, walking a few steps away before resting his arms on the wall and laying his head on them.

Éowyn followed him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “If Pippin is even half as brave as you are, Merry, he will be all right,” Éowyn told the hobbit. Merry glanced up at her and then returned his gaze to the east.

“He’s so young, Éowyn, a lot younger than I am. And so small compared to those men and orcs, he’ll probably be stepped on,” he laughed hollowly.

“You are not so big yourself, Meriadoc, and yet look what you and I accomplished together. No, this is his part to play in this war,” she smiled grimly down at the hobbit.

“I know, I know. I just wish I was there with him.”

“I wish I were there as well.” Éowyn sighed and stepped past the hobbit, moving to a spot further down the wall where she leaned against a tree. After a moment, Faramir joined her, speaking words to Éowyn that Rebecca couldn’t hear.

Suddenly realizing that she was trembling, Rebecca walked to a nearby table and sat down. Where are Frodo and Sam, she wondered as her thoughts raced. They must not have made it to the mountain and she could only hope they had died without suffering too much. Poor Frodo with his kind heart and dear, loyal Sam. Rebecca angrily blinked back tears as she thought of the sacrifice they had been willing to make for Middle Earth. She suddenly wondered why she was thinking so much about them – not that she didn’t care for them – and not about Thomas, Aragorn, and the others that she was much closer to. But Rebecca knew instantly that it hurt too much to think about those she was so close to. A feeling of panic threatened to overwhelm her and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out. A steaming mug and a bowl of porridge slid onto the table in front of her.

“Eat this, Lady Rebecca,” Lothrín’s calm voice ordered as the older woman sat on the bench next to her.

“I can’t, Mistress Lothrín.”

“Yes, you can,” Lothrín handed her the spoon. “It’ll be a long day and you need to keep your strength up, no matter what happens.”

Rebecca took one bite of the porridge before setting the spoon down and pushing the bowl away. “I’m sorry, but I truly can’t eat this morning, but I will drink the tea.”

“Very well, Lady Rebecca,” she said with a look of disapproval. “If you get hungry later, please let me know.” Lothrín stood to leave.

“I will.” As the aide turned and left, Rebecca let out a soft moan and buried her head in her hands. She didn’t really want to be in the midst of another horrible battle, but to be so far away was so much harder than she thought it would be. And she knew they wouldn’t find out how the battle had turned out for several days, maybe a week. Rebecca wished there were telephones here in Middle Earth or some other kind of communication device… like a telegraph. She didn’t look up when she sensed someone had joined her at the table, sitting on the opposite bench.

“Are you well, lady?”

Rebecca jerked her head up in surprise to meet the eyes of a young man she had never seen before. He had light blue eyes and sandy blonde hair. Bandages covered his right shoulder and arm. Realizing she was staring, Rebecca stuttered slightly as she answered him, “I’m-I’m sorry, I thought you were one of my friends. I’m fine, just worried about the battle,” she glanced to the east.

The man nodded, “Me, too. My brothers are there as well as my uncle and three of my cousins. Who do you have there?” His eyes were shadowed and his face was drawn with worry.

“I have no blood family left, but,” Rebecca swallowed hard, “my guardian, who is like my father, is there. And, there are four others fighting that are like my family.”

“So many have lost all their family,” he commented. “My name’s Tathor.”

“I’m Rebecca.”

“Why are you here, Lady Rebecca?”

“My arm is broken,” she replied, giving him a puzzled look. Rebecca was not going to tell him how it had gotten broken, nor was she going to mention her other injuries, which were hidden under the loose fitting shirt and tunic she wore. She did not want him asking questions about why she had been on the Pelennor.

“I know,” Tathor smiled. “I meant why are you still in Minas Tirith? Why did you not go south with the other young women and children?”

“Oh, my guardian left me here. He felt I’d be just as safe here as there.” Rebecca hoped that sounded reasonable enough.

Tathor nodded, “If the Dark Lord prevails, no place is safe.”

“That’s what Aragorn says,” Rebecca said without thinking.

“Who’s Aragorn?”

“My guardian,” relieved that he didn’t seem to know the name. Rebecca turned slightly to see where Merry was, but he was still leaning on the wall and she sighed inwardly.

“Did you hear the rumor that there is a king now?” Tathor said eagerly, an excited sparkle in his eye.

“I heard something about it,” she nodded.

“Do you think it’s true?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure it is,” she replied, holding back a smile.

“He has to return, we need a king,” Tathor said fiercely, looking towards the east.

“Yes, he does,” Rebecca murmured in agreement.

“Captain!” Tathor struggled to his feet and Rebecca could see his lower right leg was also bandaged. “I mean, my Lord Steward,” he bowed awkwardly.

“Sit down, Tathor,” Faramir commanded softly as he and Éowyn joined them at the table. “Lady Éowyn, this is one of my rangers, Tathor. I see you have already met Lady Rebecca, Tathor.”

“Yes, my lord,” he smiled at Rebecca and bowed slightly to Éowyn. “Lady Éowyn, it’s an honor to meet you after what you have done.”

“Thank you, but I did not kill the Witch King by myself,” she gave him a grim look and turned to gesture to Merry. “If Meriadoc Brandybuck had not been there and stabbed it first, I would not have succeeded.”

“A pherian helped you, Lady Éowyn?” She nodded briskly. “I have heard stories of a pherian that helped you, my lord,” Tathor glanced at Faramir who gave a small nod. “But I wasn’t aware that one also helped slay the Witch King. They have… stout hearts for all they are so small.”

“The Pheriannath, or Hobbits as they call themselves, are a surprising people, Tathor,” Faramir said. “I have met four of them now, and each of them has an inner strength that is at least equal to, if it does not surpass that of most men.”

Rebecca listened quietly as they spoke of the hobbits, sipping her now cool tea. It seemed strange to be talking of ordinary things when not too far away people she loved could be dying. Though, she supposed it was better than sitting and worrying about it. Still, she really did not want to join the conversation as it might lead to questions from Éowyn and Tathor that she could not, or did not want to, answer. Faramir seemed to sense her reluctance and steered the conversation away from her, while Éowyn seemed lost in her own thoughts. As Faramir and Tathor moved their discussion on to other people and other things, Rebecca could sit still no longer and got to her feet, drawing the men up as well. “I’m going to walk around for awhile,” she said quietly. “It was nice to meet you, Tathor.”

“The pleasure was mine, Lady Rebecca,” he smiled. “I hope to see you again.”

Rebecca nodded and wandered off to pace slowly along the wall, and as the morning stretched on, she eventually joined Merry, leaning against the wall and staring to the east.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Thomas thought briefly and longingly of Rebecca as he watched the thousands and thousands of enemy soldiers charging towards the hill. He knew there was no way they could possibly survive this battle. Actually seeing the enemy made him realize that they were just too badly outnumbered and there were no reinforcements this time. Despair filled him even as he gripped his sword tightly, determined to at least take some of these evil creatures with him. He ducked quickly as arrows began falling near him and he closed his eyes briefly against the screams of agony that filled the air. From his crouched position, Thomas saw that the men near the bottom of the hill had already engaged the enemy and he wondered if they would join them or if Aragorn had other plans. He glanced at Hinluin on his left to see the same worried expression on the ranger’s face that he knew was on his own. Hinluin nodded once and turned troubled eyes back down the hill. Finally, Aragorn shouted for them to attack and Thomas sprang to his feet, relieved to ease the tension in his body.

Slipping and sliding down the steep hill, Thomas reached the line of Gondorian troops about halfway down. Taking a deep breath, he plunged into the battle as one of the Gondorians fell and he quickly stepped into his spot, battling with an orc. To Thomas’s surprise, this orc actually spoke to him. “Die, you filthy…” the rest of it’s words were lost as it died when Thomas slit it’s throat. Thomas spared not a glance for it as two more took its place and pressed him hard. He retreated slightly under their onslaught and managed to lop off the non-sword hand of the one on his right, but the orc kept coming even as black blood poured from the wound. Thinking desperately as he parried blow after blow, Thomas finally decided to do something that he knew might be foolish, but he felt he had little choice. The next time the orc on his left pulled back a little, Thomas turned and ran about ten feet, cursing the whole time about turning his back on the enemy. But it worked. The startled orcs paused before giving chase and the uninjured one reached him first, giving Thomas time to parry the first blow before sinking his blade deep into it’s heart. The second orc, slowed by blood loss, arrived seconds later, and Thomas quickly dispatched it as well. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his helm and walked back into the fray.

0-0-0

As the last of his men engaged the enemy, Aragorn knew there was little left for him to direct from the hilltop. Glancing around to see where he was most needed, he charged down the hill, followed closely by Halbarad, Laegrist, and Faerlain. He waded into the ranks of Haradrim, dealing swift, deadly strikes with Andúril. While focused on the men he was fighting, he was also conscious of the overall battle. He knew when trolls started attacking the other hill and when part of the hill he was on was in danger of being overrun. Dancing back from a particularly aggressive swordsman, Aragorn quickly parried his blows for several minutes before finally sneaking his blade in under his guard and running him through. Jerking his sword out as the man fell, Aragorn retreated back, calling Halbarad, Laegrist, and Faerlain with him. “We need to reinforce the men down there,” he said, nodding to the south where the line was barely holding. “We cannot allow them to come in behind us,” he said grimly. Glancing around and seeing that this section was, for now, stable, they turned and jogged off, taking a handful of Gondorians with them. Passing Legolas and Gimli, Aragorn called to them and they joined him as well.

Reaching the weak spot in the line, Aragorn ran back and forth, calling encouragement to his men, who fought harder at his appearance. The addition of his men, Legolas, Gimli, and himself allowed them to push the enemy back slightly and Aragorn breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

0-0-0

As the morning lengthened towards noon, Thomas wondered how long any of them would be able to endure this endless fighting. Already he was exhausted and he knew the longer they fought the more mistakes he was likely to make. Thomas fought amidst total strangers now. Legolas and Gimli had disappeared some time ago and the last ranger he had seen, Pendem, had been killed just minutes ago. At that thought, a rush of anger swept through Thomas and he quickly stabbed the orc he was facing through the heart. He hadn’t known Pendem well, but he was one of Aragorn’s men and he knew it would grieve him greatly.

Staring angrily into the yellow eyes of another, larger orc, Thomas shook his head slightly, knowing he could not let his anger take control of his emotions. The large orc leered at him as it lifted it’s sword to attack. Moving to counter the orc, Thomas felt his feet start to give way on the loose surface of the hill. He blocked the sword as he skidded down the slope towards the orc, pushing their swords between them as he slid. His momentum was stopped when Thomas came within reach of the creature and the orc grabbed him around the throat and started to slowly squeeze, a hideous grin on it’s evil face. Thomas struggled desperately to escape, dropping his sword and using both hands to pull at the clawed hand that fit neatly around his throat, but the orc’s strength was too much. He began to see black spots before his eyes and he sagged limply in the orc’s hand as darkness overcame him. When he stopped moving, the orc released Thomas and he collapsed onto the ground without a sound. With a grunt, the orc moved on.

0-0-0

Leaving Legolas and Gimli behind, Aragorn took his three rangers and sprinted off to another section of the hill where the Gondorians seemed to be floundering. He saw a flash of white further down the line and knew Gandalf was probably wreaking havoc on whatever men and orcs he faced. His thoughts briefly touched on Pippin and Thomas before he firmly pushed those aside to concentrate on what he was doing.

A small group of orcs broke through the line as Aragorn and his reinforcements arrived. With the ease of decades of fighting together, he and Halbarad fought side-by-side as they worked to push the enemy back.

“I’m… getting… too… old… for… this… Aragorn,” Halbarad said through clenched teeth as he killed one particularly stubborn orc.

Aragorn snorted with amusement, having heard Halbarad make the comment so many times over the years that it brought a brief spark of light in the midst of the darkness. Still chuckling to himself, he jumped lightly over the body of the orc he had just killed to realize that Easterlings had joined this corner of the battle and he frowned wearily. Battling orcs was difficult enough, but men were always harder – both to defeat and emotionally as well. Setting his jaw, Aragorn strode briskly forward, his eyes sweeping up and down the line to see if there were any one particular spot that need his help. Seeing none, he plowed straight ahead, Andúril driving back the Easterlings rather quickly as Aragorn skillfully thrust his sword around, under, or over the blocks his opponents used. He slowed only as he realized he was advancing a little too far ahead of his men and he dropped back slightly. Aragorn caught a glimpse of Faerlain falling under the sword on an orc and he took his grief and frustration out on the Easterling in front of him. The man didn’t last long.

0-0-0

With a choking gasp that brought air back into his oxygen starved lungs, Thomas’s eyes fluttered open. As memory flooded his mind, he froze, aware of the incredible danger he was in. He struggled to control his breathing, both because it hurt his throat so much and because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Breathing through his nose seemed to lessen the pain so he slowly did that. After a moment, he realized the battle had moved up the hill and he wondered how long he had been out. Slowly re-opening his eyes, he carefully turned his head, ignoring the throbbing pain in his neck and head. Seeing nothing but bodies littering the ground around him, he cautiously rolled over. Thomas closed his eyes as nausea hit and black spots danced across his vision at the movement. Getting his stomach under control, he lifted his head and saw the battle had moved further up the hill. He realized with dismay that he was entirely behind the forces of the enemy. With a groan, Thomas dropped his head down on his arm wondering what to do. Knowing that whatever happened, he would need his sword; he raised himself slightly on his elbows and looked around, finally spotting it a few yards away half hidden under the body of an orc. Crawling slowly, Thomas made his way to the sword and tugged it out.

Feeling better just having a weapon in his hands once again, Thomas sat up on his knees, again battling nausea, and surveyed the area around him. He pulled his cloak tightly around himself, and put up the hood, knowing the elvish made cloak would provide some protection from wandering eyes. He kept a wary eye on the battle, but none of the enemy seemed the least bit concerned about anything behind them, so he felt he was safe enough for the moment. Lightly touching his neck, Thomas hissed in pain and he suddenly realized how thirsty he was and how good water would feel on his throat. He pulled out his waterskin and sipped the water, choking slightly at the pain as it slid down his damaged throat. It did, however, soothe him as well. Not even a quarter full to begin with, the waterskin was soon empty and Thomas eyed it with regret, wishing for more.

Glancing up at the battle, Thomas saw that things had not changed much and he wondered again what he should do… what would Aragorn expect him to do? He frowned and looked down, his gaze falling on the waterskin of a dead Gondorian as he did so. He blinked rapidly several times as he wondered if it would be all right to take it. Thomas didn’t know if it was disrespectful to take a dead warrior’s possessions and use them, though he knew he would grab a sword and use it at need. But, he really needed the water and so with extreme hesitancy and asking the man for forgiveness, Thomas crawled forward and carefully took the waterskin. Wanting to be away from the man before he drank the water, he crawled along the hill, being mindful of bodies and fallen weapons.

Thomas froze when he reached the grey-cloaked body of a ranger and it seemed to move. He was sure he was imagining things when he thought he heard a low moan. Crawling up to the head of the ranger, Thomas looked into the ashen face of Hinhael, Hinluin’s older brother.

“Hinhael,” he croaked out in a raspy voice, grabbing the ranger’s hand.

Hinhael opened pain-filled, glazed eyes and stared at him for a minute, before recognition dawned. “Lord Thomas,” he panted.

Thomas fumbled with Hinhael’s cloak and finally pulled it open to reveal the injury he had suffered and his face paled. Hinhael had been deeply sliced open across the stomach and Thomas knew, from his conversation with Elladan and Legolas after Rebecca’s injury, that there was no chance of him surviving. He gently covered the cloak back over the wound. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. The ranger did not respond. Not knowing what else to do and since Hinhael seemed feverish, Thomas tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and poured some water on it and began gently wiping his face. He knew in the long run it would not make any difference, but Hinhael seemed grateful for it as he smiled faintly. Thomas had been bathing his face for quite some time when Hinhael opened his eyes again. “Tell… tell my wife I love her,” he whispered. Thomas nodded. “Tell Hinluin…he’s…a good ranger,” he coughed, gasping and moaning in pain. Thomas’s eyes filled with tears and he grabbed Hinhael’s hand, gripping it tightly. “I’ll tell them,” he whispered hoarsely as Hinhael’s intense pain seemed to subside for a moment.

“The eagles! The eagles are coming!”

A loud cry broke through the noise of the battlefield and Thomas looked up in wonder to see many giant eagles swooping down and attacking the Nazgúl and he grinned. “Look, Hinhael!” he whispered, turning back, but Hinhael was gone. Thomas bowed his head briefly and then arranged the cloak more appropriately around the ranger, covering his face. Still totally at a loss of what he should do, Thomas decided to stay right where he was sitting.

0-0-0

“Eagles, Gandalf?” Aragorn panted, turning questioning eyes on the wizard as they stood together on the slope of the hill, slightly above the ongoing battle.

“The Valar, in their wisdom, have sent them,” Gandalf replied, not meeting Aragorn’s gaze.

“Hmmm, I am sure you had nothing to do with it,” Aragorn said returning his gaze to the battle. The Army of the West was holding out much longer than he had hoped, and while the outcome was still inevitable, he was proud of his men.

A low, rumbling sound reached his ears, followed by a shaking in the ground and Aragorn braced himself, reaching out to steady Gandalf as well. With amazement, he watched as the Nazgúl broke off their attack, screaming in rage and flew rapidly back into Mordor. Sauron’s forces froze, seemingly uncertain and the Army of the West pressed forward viciously, taking full advantage of their distraction.

“Frodo,” Aragorn breathed out softly, glancing at Gandalf with hope-filled eyes.

“It must be, Aragorn,” Gandalf’s voice was thick with both hope and concern.

Even as they spoke, they could see in the distance Mt. Doom suddenly shooting flames high up into the air. The ground beneath their feet started trembling violently, orcs and other foul creatures turned and ran heedlessly in all directions, and the Black Gate and towers started crumbling down.

“Do not pursue them,” Aragorn yelled out in a loud, clear voice that carried far over the battlefield and he could hear Éomer in the distance, echoing his command. Some of Sauron’s men continued fighting briefly, but most scattered and many begged for mercy, which he readily gave.

“I am going to see if I can find Frodo and Sam,” Gandalf said quietly, looking at Aragorn with eyes full of sorrow.

“May the Valar guide you,” Aragorn responded fervently, his eyes matching Gandalf’s sorrow and pain. He glanced at the eagle that was landing, before slipping his kingly mask into place and rapidly striding down the hill looking for Éomer and Imrahil so they could start planning how to deal with their wounded, their dead, and their prisoners.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was close to noon when the tension in the air over Minas Tirith changed. The clouds over Mordor seemed to darken and Merry grabbed Rebecca’s hand and squeezed it tightly. Looking down at the hobbit and seeing tears starting to fall, caused her own to begin. Suddenly a rumbling sound reached them and the ground began to shake and they grabbed the wall. “Earthquake,” Rebecca mumbled, her eyes widening in fear. As suddenly as it had started, it stopped and Rebecca felt a strange lightness in her heart that she had never felt before. The heaviness and tension in the air was gone. To the east, over Mordor, the black clouds


Chapter 26 - Reunions

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to J for beta reading this chapter for me!

Words in italics are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Author Note: I am sorry for the length of this chapter (not that most of my chapters aren’t long!). I was going to cut it at ten pages and make it two shorter chapters, but then Rebecca would have felt left out! I know that many of you probably read this online (I always print my stories out to read them so I don’t mind long chapters) and so I do apologize, though I cannot promise to make any of the next chapters shorter.



Chapter 26 – Reunions


“It cannot be done, my Lord King. We have neither the wagons necessary for such a task or enough uninjured men to carry them from here,” Prince Imrahil’s voice was firm and his gaze was steady as he looked at Aragorn.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Aragorn nodded sharply, “I know you are right, Imrahil, but to leave our dead in this place…” he shook his head, running his hand through his hair. Setting his jaw, he glanced at Éomer to see understanding in his weary brown eyes. “We must use what wagons we do have to move the wounded out of this choking air as soon as we possibly can.” Aragorn glanced up at the sky, “We will not get far tonight, perhaps to where we camped last evening. Tomorrow we will head for Ithilien, though some men will be left behind to tend to our dead. I will not dishonor their sacrifice,” his voice was like steel. Éomer and Imrahil nodded and murmured their agreement.

“I have sent some of my men out to start rounding up the horses,” Éomer informed him. “Our horses will not have wandered far, though I do not know about yours.”

“Good. As soon as you have a couple available, I want to send messengers to Minas Tirith. We desperately need more healers and supplies,” Aragorn looked around. “Alvist, go and see if you can find any of the ranger scouts. Two would be best, I would not want to send them alone.”

“Yes, my lord.” Aragorn watched him run off, briefly wondering where Thomas and Pippin were. He turned back to Imrahil.

“Have you seen any of the captains of the companies?”

“Just the ones from the first, fourth, seventh, and ninth companies, my lord and I sent them to start organizing what men they had to help the wounded. Many of my Swan Knights have healing skills and those I found, I also have set to that task.”

Something in Imrahil’s voice made Aragorn look at him closely. “What of your sons, Imrahil?” he asked gently.

Imrahil gazed at him steadily, “Elphir is directing my men, of Erchirion… I have seen nothing. And yours?”

Aragorn shook his head, “I know not.” He glanced at Éomer as the horse-lord cursed loudly. “Yes,” he agreed and then turned his mind back to the task at hand. “We must get word to the men who are already helping the wounded to take them to a central location and from there we can move them back to where we camped.”

“It will be better if our healers can work from one place instead of scattered all over,” Éomer commented. “I will make sure that Sigebréoht knows,” he said, calling over one of his men and speaking to him quietly.

“Halbarad, Hinluin, see if you can find Elladan and Elrohir and send them there,” Aragorn pointed to an area north of where they were standing and towards the site of their last camp. “Explain what we are planning.” The rangers nodded and hurried off in opposite directions. Aragorn glanced at Laegrist briefly, but skipped over him to a small group of Gondorians that had gathered near and were watching him with weary, hopeful eyes. “Did you hear what I said to my rangers?” he asked in a commanding voice. They all nodded. “Then you go and do the same, look for healers and then help the wounded to that area.”

“Yes, my Lord King,” they bowed and scurried off.

Aragorn turned back to Éomer and Imrahil.

0-0-0

Thomas looked up with a sigh and stared blankly out into the distance. Glancing down at Hinhael’s body, he wondered what he should do. He didn’t want him buried or burned with everyone else like they had done on the Pelennor. This was his friend’s brother and he should be treated differently. Besides, Hinhael and Pendem, who he knew had to be close by, were Aragorn’s rangers and were special to him. Thomas suddenly realized that Aragorn was now, in fact, the king… assuming he was still alive. He knew he needed to find Aragorn and the others, but he couldn’t just leave Hinhael either. Thomas knew he would never be able to find him again.

The sound of voices made Thomas look to his left and he saw three Gondorian soldiers approaching. They were spread out and were looking intently at the bodies that littered the ground, occasionally crouching down and checking a pulse. One of them looked up and caught his eye and with a quiet word to the others he hurried forward and knelt down beside Thomas. “Where are you injured?” he asked, looking Thomas up and down.

“I’m not,” Thomas croaked harshly, his throat burning.

“You’re not?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not really,” Thomas whispered, finding it much easier on his throat when he did so.

The man reached for Thomas’s cloak to unfasten it, but Thomas batted his hand away with a scowl and did it himself.

“You’re not too injured,” the man said with a smirk that changed to a scowl of his own when he saw the extensive black and blue marks covering Thomas’s throat. “I take that back,” he murmured. “How did that happen?”

“Orc,” he replied, miming how the orc had put its hand around his throat.

“How did you survive?”

Thomas shrugged, “I passed out and then I woke up,” he whispered as the other men joined them.

“Well, we need to get you to the place where they’re tending the wounded.”

“Only if we take Hinhael,” he whispered, gesturing to the body.

“You know he’s dead.” Thomas heard the hesitant note in the man’s voice.

“Yes, I know, but…” Thomas looked about for his waterskin, but remembered that he had no water left and sighed before continuing in a whisper. “He is the brother of my good friend and I can’t leave him alone out here. He’s also a ranger and important to my… father. I just… I just.” Thomas saw the looks the men exchanged and stopped speaking.

“He’s one of the rangers from the north, isn’t he?” one of the men commented. Thomas nodded.

“What’s your name and who’s your father?” the first man asked.

“My name is Thomas and my father is Aragorn. Though, I guess people are calling him something else now.” He saw the men’s eyes widen. “He’s not my real rather, I’m his ward,” Thomas explained.

“It matters not, Lord Thomas,” the man responded, bowing his head. “However, I still don’t think we can take your friend. Perhaps you could take his cloak pin and his ring?” he suggested gently. “It’s more than most will ever have of their loved ones.”

Thomas bowed his head briefly and then looked up with a weary sigh. “You’re right,” he whispered. He gently removed the items from Hinhael and tucked them away in his tunic. He stood, swaying slightly, his head pounding and his stomach nauseous, which he fought desperately to keep under control.

“Come, Lord Thomas,” the man grasped Thomas’s elbow, “the healers are this way.”

Thomas wiggled his arm free. “No, they’ll be busy with serious wounds and I need to find Aragorn, he’ll be worried about me.”

The man looked at him with concern for a moment and then nodded. “All right, my lord, however I believe Inthenin should accompany you,” he indicated one of the men.

“That’s probably a good idea. Do you have any idea where Aragorn might be?”

“The last I heard, the King and the other lords were speaking together in an area between the two hills.”

“Thanks for your help,” Thomas turned and started off, pausing once when he came across a grey cloaked figure lying on the ground. He carefully crouched down and removed Pendem’s star brooch and added it to the other things he had before he walked on, Inthenin walking closely beside him.

0-0-0

“The eagles are back,” Halbarad said, nudging Aragorn in the back.

Shading his eyes, Aragorn saw that Gandalf was riding on one eagle, while the other two… carried hobbits. “He found them,” he whispered, his voice full of surprise and awe, his eyes glistening as he glanced back at Halbarad. Seeing where they were going to land, Aragorn took off at a dead run, arriving in time to gently take Frodo from the eagle’s talons. Halbarad took Sam. Aragorn thought Frodo was dead, but then he felt the slight rise and fall of the hobbit’s chest. Tears filled his eyes as he looked him over. He wore nothing but Sam’s cloak, tied with a bit of rope. Frodo was filthy and over the dirt encrusted skin was a layer of grey ash. Frodo’s whole neck was a deep, raw wound and what Aragorn could see of his arms and legs were covered with cuts and deep gouges. And that was just what was visible. He froze suddenly as he saw Frodo’s right hand. The third finger was missing and was still slowly bleeding. “Oh, Valar, no,” he whispered and tears trickled down his face. Suddenly conscious of a hand on his shoulder, Aragorn looked into Gandalf’s understanding tear-filled eyes.

“It cost him much, my friend,” the wizard said quietly.

“Gollum?” Aragorn asked.

“I assume so, but we should tend them now and speak later. They are both much in need of your skill.”

“Yes, of course,” Aragorn shook his head, wiping his cheeks with his shoulder and looked at Sam to find he was in almost the same condition as Frodo. The hobbit also looked incredibly thin and Aragorn knew without asking that Sam had given most of his food to Frodo. Not that Frodo wasn’t bordering on starvation himself. Sam was covered with the same types of cuts and gouges and also had a large wicked looking wound on his head. “Halbarad, do you know where my tent is? We did not use it last night, but if we can get it, I would like to use it for these two.”

“I’ll find it, Aragorn.” Halbarad gently transferred Sam into Gandalf’s arms and took off as Aragorn and Gandalf started walking towards the healing area.

“Hinluin, run ahead and start a fire on the far side of the healing area and get some water boiling. Alvist, you go and find Elladan or Elrohir and tell them I need any healing supplies they have and why I need them. Laegrist,” Aragorn looked at him for a long moment. “I know you are supposed to guard me, but I need you to go and tell Prince Imrahil or Éomer King what is happening and where I will be.”

Laegrist hesitated only a second, “Yes, my Lord King,” he gave him a half smile. “I’ll try and be back before Halbarad returns.”

Aragorn nodded absently, his focus already back on the hobbit in his arms.

By the time they reached Hinluin, the young ranger had water boiling and had scrounged up a couple of blankets which he had neatly laid out near the fire. He was smoothing them out with a somewhat worried expression on his face which he wiped off when he saw Aragorn looking at him questioningly. Comprehension and compassion filled Aragorn’s eyes as he looked at Hinluin. As he knelt and gently laid Frodo down, he said quietly. “It is early yet, Hinluin and it is a huge battlefield. Would you like to go and look for him?”

“My place is with you, my Lord King,” Hinluin replied, returning Aragorn’s gaze steadily.

Aragorn nodded and started to work on Frodo, stripping off the cloak he wore. He hissed sharply as he rolled the hobbit halfway over and exposed a huge seeping wound on his neck and whip marks on his back and legs. Gandalf, Hinluin, and Alvist, who had arrived with various healing supplies, all gasped as well, and exchanged looks of horror. Frodo began mumbling incoherently and fighting off unseen hands. Aragorn sat back on his heels and looked back and forth between the two unconscious hobbits. Now that he could see all of their injuries, he made a decision. “Gandalf, I am going to push them into a deep healing sleep. Their bodies have been pushed almost beyond endurance; truly, I do not know how they have survived.”

“Hobbits have an incredible inner strength, Aragorn.”

“Yes, I know, but…” Aragorn raised a hand and let it drop in a helpless gesture. “After I push them into sleep, we will tend to their injuries.” Aragorn placed his hand on Frodo’s brow and reached out for his spirit. He was startled by the utter terror and surprised by the guilt he found there and Aragorn worked long to soothe and quiet Frodo. Finally, feeling that Frodo was settled enough, he pushed him into a deep, healing sleep. He sat back with a weary sigh.

“That took you a long time,” Gandalf said sharply.

“It did,” Aragorn acknowledged. “There was so much terror and… other things upsetting him that I needed to soothe him before I could send him to sleep.” Aragorn gently brushed back the hair from Frodo’s face, “It is not very healing or restful otherwise.” Gandalf nodded and Aragorn turned to Sam. He found Sam much easier to deal with. There was fear, but mostly worry for Frodo and Aragorn was able to reassure him and send him soundly to sleep.

Halbarad rode up, leading Roheryn, Baldor and several other horses, with Shadowfax following close behind. “The tent is being set up, Aragorn.”

Aragorn nodded and glanced down at the hobbits. “I would rather clean and tend to their wounds there,” he said glancing at Gandalf. “It will be out of the wind and this dust. Hinluin, can you carry that pot of hot water on a horse without spilling any of it? It is too precious to waste.”

Hinluin’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Yes, my lord.”

“Good. Are any of those horses yours?” Hinluin shook his head. “Take any of them except Baldor, he can be a little nervous at times,” Aragorn smiled faintly.

Hinluin nodded and grabbed one of the horses. Alvist wrapped cloth around the handle of the pot and handed it up to him. Aragorn and Gandalf mounted their respective horses and Alvist gently wrapped Frodo and Sam in the blankets and handed the hobbits up to them. “Halbarad, I want at least one hundred guardsmen out with us as soon as possible. It is too isolated out there and it will be awhile before they start moving the wounded.”

“I’ve already done that, Aragorn. Speaking of guards…”

“I sent him to tell Éomer and Imrahil what I was doing. Do not blame him, Halbarad, there was no one else available.”

Halbarad nodded and they set off.

0-0-0

Thomas stopped and looked ahead in dismay. “Is something wrong, Lord Thomas?” Inthenin asked.

“Aragorn is not there, only Prince Imrahil and Éomer King are there,” he whispered. Frowning and wondering where Aragorn could be, where any of his friends could be, he walked doggedly forward, still swaying slightly.

“Thomas!” Éomer’s voice boomed loudly as he approached and Thomas shuddered at the pain, rubbing his head. He smiled though, as Éomer grabbed his right arm in a warrior’s handshake and clasped his left shoulder hard.

“Hello, Éomer,” he croaked out as best he could, not wanting to whisper. “My Lord Prince,” he said nodding to Imrahil, who stood slightly off to the side.

“Thomas, what is wrong with you?” Éomer’s eyes narrowed as he looked Thomas over and Imrahil moved closer, looking Thomas up and down.

“An orc grabbed me,” he whispered, throwing his cloak open and showing them his throat. They both drew in sharp breaths.

“Have you had anything done for that?” Imrahil asked, his sharp grey eyes giving him a piercing look as he gently lifted Thomas’s chin for a closer look.

Thomas started to shake his head, but stopped immediately, “No. He,” he gestured to Inthenin, “and some other men wanted me to, but I wanted to see Aragorn and I knew he would be worried. And now he’s not even here,” he said with frustration.

“Does your head hurt? Are you nauseous?”

“Yes, my lord,” Thomas looked at Imrahil and frowned.

“Were you unconscious?”

“For awhile, but I don’t know how long it was. When I awoke the battle had moved past me.”

“You need to see a healer, Thomas,” Éomer said, looking at him, his brown eyes serious.

“I will, but I want to see Aragorn first.”

“He is tending to Frodo and Sam right now,” Éomer responded.

“They’re here? They’re alive?” Thomas smiled and then blinked back tears, before looking off into the distance for a moment. He turned back to Éomer and Imrahil.

“Yes, so while my Lord King is busy with them, you have time to seek healing for yourself, my lord,” Imrahil said.

Thomas grimaced and Éomer put a suddenly gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know you want to see Aragorn, Thomas, but this is the second time in less than a month you have injured your head. You need to get it looked at.” He grinned, “I do not want you to forget who I am.”

“As if I could!” Thomas smiled. “Are Elladan or Elrohir around?”

“I believe they are with the other healers,” Imrahil pointed to the healing area.

“I’ll find one of them.” Thomas glanced at Inthenin, “I’ll be fine, now. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Imrahil nodded at the soldier who bowed and walked away. “I will have one of my Swan Knights accompany you, Lord Thomas. Ladreníl!” he called out, his eyes never leaving Thomas.

Thomas opened his eyes to protest, but shut it, somehow knowing that arguing with Imrahil would be as ineffective as arguing with Aragorn. Probably less so judging from the way the prince was watching him. He gave Imrahil a small smile, “Yes, my Lord Prince, that’s probably a good idea,” he whispered. “I don’t… “ he started to cough, gasping at the pain.

Éomer put his arm around Thomas to steady him. “Here,” Éomer handed him a waterskin and Thomas gratefully accepted it.

“Thanks,” he whispered when he could finally speak again. Thomas tried to hand the waterskin back to Éomer, but the horse-lord shook his head.

“Keep it, Thomas. The men are collecting more,” he nodded to his right and Thomas could see that many of the Rohirrim were piling up waterskins they had obviously taken from the dead. He was both relieved and saddened as he looked back at Éomer who gave him a grim smile. “We need the water, Thomas, there is none to be had out here.”

“I know.”

“Lord Thomas, Ladreníl is ready to accompany you to the healers now,” Imrahil said and Thomas noticed the emphasis on the word accompany. As if he had a choice, he thought wryly.

“All right,” Thomas gave Éomer and Imrahil a wan smile as he walked off with the Swan Knight in tow.

Arriving at the healer’s area, Thomas looked around with sorrow, the sights and sounds once again overwhelming him. He realized he had forgotten to ask Éomer about Legolas, Gimli or Pippin. Well, it was too late for that, he thought with an inward sigh.

“My lord, may I ask why you are waiting?” Ladreníl looked at him questioningly.

“I’m looking for Lord Elladan or Lord Elrohir,” Thomas whispered, his voice sounding raspy now, even when he whispered.

“The elf-lords?”

“Yes, they are rather tall and have long, dark hair.”

Ladreníl nodded and joined him in scanning the area. “There, my lord,” he pointed out one of the elves.

Thomas and Ladreníl made their way through the injured men lying on the ground. Weaving around when possible, stepping over when it was not. One of the healers approached to see if they needed help and Thomas let Ladreníl explain. Thomas watched the elf closely as he approached, but had no idea which twin it was. As if sensing eyes on him, the elf looked up and met Thomas’s gaze briefly before returning to his patient. He waited patiently for the elf-lord to finish and stand.

“Thomas,” he gave him a brief smile. “How do you fare?”

“Not well. Lord Elrohir?” he croaked and the elf nodded absently as his fingers were already gently running over Thomas’s throat as Thomas had unfastened the cloak immediately.

“An orc?” Elrohir asked.

“Yes,” he said, dropping back to a whisper. “And, I was unconscious for awhile, I have a headache, and I’m nauseous.” Thomas felt no need to hide these things from Elrohir, he trusted him as much as he trusted Aragorn.

Elrohir ran his hands through Thomas’s hair, stopping when the young man hissed in pain. The elf gently parted his hair on the back of his head and sighed softly. “I have seen worse on you,” he commented, “yet this will need stitches.” Thomas’s hand flew up to his head, but Elrohir gently pushed it away. “It is not too deep, Thomas.”

“I thought I was unconscious because of the orc cutting off my air, but this…” Thomas frowned.

“How long were you out?” Elrohir was looking at him intently.

Thomas shrugged. “I don’t know, but it was quite awhile because when I awoke I was behind the lines of the enemy.”

Elrohir’s eyebrows went up. “Then it was a combination of both. I would venture to say that the orc thought you were dead and dropped you. You need Elladan’s care for your throat, though I can stitch your wound.” He looked around and suddenly let out a whistle that, to Thomas, sounded exactly like a bird. Elrohir turned back to Thomas and made him sit down. Ladreníl sat down nearby and Elrohir looked at him questioningly.

“Prince Imrahil sent me along to make sure Lord Thomas arrived safely, my lord.”

Elrohir nodded and began gently cleaning the wound, causing Thomas to flinch. Elladan arrived then and crouched down beside them, his sharp eyes focusing on Thomas’s throat. He turned to his brother and they spoke rapidly in elvish for several minutes. Finally, Elladan turned to Thomas, saying, “Remove your cloak and I will do what I can.” Once it was removed, Elladan gently ran his fingers all around Thomas’s neck and head, lingering in several places, as he sang softly. When he was finished, Elladan gave him a small smile. “It will still be sore for a few days, Thomas. There are many wounded,” he glanced around, his eyes filled with sorrow and weariness, “and I must give what I can to them as well. However, with what I have been able to do, you will have no lasting damage.”

“Thank you, Lord Elladan,” Thomas whispered, his voice a little less hoarse and he noticed his head had stopped hurting and he was no longer nauseous. Elladan patted his shoulder and moved off, while Elrohir finished stitching up the wound on his head.

0-0-0

“I really need athelas,” Aragorn said, sitting back with a weary sigh and running his fingers through his hair. He looked between Frodo and Sam, whom he and Gandalf had finally gotten cleaned of all the dirt and ash and the wounds now stood out clearly on their small pale bodies.

“Would there be some in Ithilien?” Gandalf asked. “I can take Shadowfax and try to find some.”

“I will go,” Alvist offered.

“Shadowfax is faster,” Aragorn said. “There should be athelas in Ithilien, there was years ago,” he said thoughtfully. He looked at Gandalf, “Would Shadowfax suffer another to ride with you? I would send Alvist with you, two pairs of eyes are better than one and it grows late.”

“He will do it if I ask him,” Gandalf replied, rising and taking his cloak. “I will return as soon as I may.” He ducked out of the tent, followed closely by Alvist as Aragorn turned back to the hobbits.

Aragorn worked steadily on stitching Frodo’s wounds, helped frequently by Halbarad and Hinluin, who made sure there was always water available. He had been working for quite some time after Gandalf left when a disturbance at the entrance of the tent caught his attention. The voices were low at first and then became louder as one of the Citadel Guardsmen who was on sentry duty outside his tent became agitated.

“You can’t go in there. This is the king’s tent and he is not to be disturbed!” Aragorn couldn’t hear what the other person or other people said, but it did not sit well with the sentry. “I don’t believe that!”

“Halbarad, go and see what the problem is and send whoever it is away,” Aragorn said with irritation. “And tell the guard to keep his voice down.”

Halbarad nodded and went to the tent flap, pushing it open. When he did not say anything, Aragorn looked up to see what was wrong and saw him standing there with a grin on his face, beckoning someone into the tent. It startled Aragorn to see Thomas walk into the tent, though why it surprised him, he really did not know. Maybe because he had assumed Thomas was either too badly wounded to walk, or because he had died on the battlefield. “Thomas!” he exclaimed with surprise and joy, he rose to his feet and quickly crossed to him, embracing him firmly. “You are alive and unwounded.”

“Basically unwounded,” Thomas whispered as he returned Aragorn’s embrace. Aragorn pulled back and grabbed him by both shoulders, looking at him closely. “What happened? Where are you hurt?” he asked sharply.

Thomas grimaced slightly as he pulled open his cloak for the fourth time, “I’m really all right, Aragorn,” he whispered. “Elladan and Elrohir fixed my neck and stitched my head and I’m doing fine now.”

Aragorn’s eyes narrowed as he took in the bruising on Thomas’s neck. “Where are the stitches?” he asked. Thomas turned and showed him where Elrohir had cut out part of his hair and stitched up the wound. “Why are these not bandaged? They should have salve and a bandage on it,” he said softly as Thomas turned back around.

“They are running low on supplies, Aragorn and there are men who are hurt far, far worse than me,” Thomas replied.

Aragorn nodded and turned back to the hobbits. “Indeed there are,” he said with a voiced laced with sorrow. “Come, sit and tell me what happened while I work on Frodo and Sam.”

“Oh, Frodo, Sam,” Thomas whispered as he got his first glimpse of the hobbits. “Will they live, Aragorn?”

“I-I do not know yet, Thomas. Gandalf and Alvist have gone to find athelas and that will help, and I can take care of their physical wounds. But their spirits were so weary and withdrawn from me when I sent them to sleep and that is what frightens me the most.”

Thomas sat down at the head of the two hobbits and gently touched their heads as Aragorn returned to stitching their wounds. “Can I help you?”

“No, not right now. What I really need is Hinluin to return with some water, but it is hard to come by.” Aragorn glanced at Thomas as he saw him stiffen slightly. “What is the matter, Thomas?”

“Hinhael is dead, Aragorn, and…” Thomas took a deep breath. “And now I’ll have to tell Hinluin and give him his things.”

“What things?” Aragorn paused and looked sharply at Thomas and Halbarad walked over to see what Thomas had.

Thomas reached in his tunic and took out Hinhael’s ring and star brooch. “I wanted to bring his body, but the soldiers who found me said it wouldn’t be a good idea and they suggested I take these and that it was more than most people would ever have.” Thomas wiped his eyes. “He gave me a message for his wife and Hinluin.”

“You were with him when he died?” Halbarad asked, crouching down beside Thomas and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, but I couldn’t do anything for him except… except wipe his face off and hold his hand and then the eagles came and he died,” he stared at the ground.

Aragorn and Halbarad glanced at each other. “To not die alone is a gift, Thomas,” Aragorn said softly. “Hinluin will, of course, be greatly grieved, but to hear his brother was not alone will comfort him, and to have these small tokens will as well.”

Thomas sighed and nodded, reaching into his tunic and pulling out the other star brooch. “I had seen Pendem fall earlier and-and since I had Hinhael’s, I thought maybe someone would like his too.” Aragorn closed his eyes in pain at the loss of another of his rangers.

“I will give it to his uncle,” Halbarad said quietly, taking it from Thomas. “Do you want me to tell Hinluin?”

“No,” Thomas shook his head, “I will do it when he returns.” Silenced descended on the tent as Aragorn resumed working on Frodo and Sam, and Thomas quietly watched him, lost in his own thoughts. “Aragorn,” he suddenly asked, “Where are Legolas and Gimli? And do you know anything about Pippin?”

Aragorn glanced briefly at Thomas before continuing to stitch Sam’s leg, “Legolas and Gimli are well and are searching for Pippin. They know the general area where he was fighting, but you know how difficult that can be,” he said grimly.

“Damn,” Thomas swore under his breath, even as he nodded at Aragorn’s comment. “Should I go and help them?”

“No, you need to rest, Thomas. You were badly injured and even though I know Elladan did what he could for you; you are still in pain, are you not?” Aragorn looked at him intently and Thomas nodded. “I thought so.”

The tent flap opened and Hinluin walked in, carefully carrying a pot of hot water. His face lit up with a grin when he saw Thomas. “Thomas! You’re all right!” He set the water down near Aragorn and turned to Thomas. “I was worried about you.”

Thomas slowly stood, “I’m fine, Hinluin,” he croaked out in his raspy voice. At Hinluin’s frown, he showed him his throat. “Elladan healed it and I’ll be fine.” Thomas paused uncertainly, not knowing how to tell Hinluin about his brother. He took a deep breath, glancing at Aragorn before looking back at Hinluin and started in hesitantly. “Hinluin, I… when, after this happened,” he gestured to his throat, “I… um… found Hinhael.” Hinluin’s eyes darkened and his face paled. “He was still alive… and he told me to tell his wife that he loved her… and that you’re a good ranger,” Thomas paused briefly, “I-I brought you these,” he held out the ring and the brooch.

Hinluin took them automatically, without even looking at them, clutching them tightly as he stared blankly at Thomas. Finally, he gave an inarticulate cry and bolted out of the tent.

Thomas moved to follow him, but Halbarad put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Leave him be for now, Thomas.”

“He will return when he is ready to talk with you,” Aragorn said, glancing up at him with an expression of deep sorrow on his face. “He is all alone now,” he added.

“He has no parents?”

“His father was killed by orcs when he was fourteen and his mother died about a year later. He’s been with his brother and the rangers since.”

Thomas shook his head in dismay as he settled back down by the hobbits. Quiet fell over the tent once again as Aragorn and Halbarad continued working on Frodo and Sam. Thomas watched them absently, his eyes sliding closed as exhaustion caught up with him. He jerked awake with a start and he rubbed at his eyes. “Do you need me to get you water or do anything, Aragorn?”

“No, not yet.”

A stirring at the tent door had Aragorn muttering under his breath and the three of them looked up to see Legolas striding into the tent cradling an unconscious Pippin in his arms. The hobbit was covered in black blood and Aragorn had to look closely to see that he was even breathing. Springing to his feet, Aragorn crossed to Legolas. “What happened?” he asked, gesturing for Legolas to set Pippin down on the bedroll Halbarad was already shaking out.

“He killed a troll that was going after Beregond and the foul thing fell on him.” Aragorn, Halbarad, and Thomas stared at him in disbelief. Legolas nodded, “Gimli found him, his foot was all that was sticking out from underneath the troll. When we lifted it off, Pippin’s sword had pierced the troll’s heart. Beregond is injured as well, but will recover.”

“Where is Gimli?” Thomas whispered, his concerned eyes never leaving Pippin.

“He is coming, I ran ahead with Pippin. I know he has a broken wrist and broken ribs, Estel.”

If Aragorn heard, he gave no sign, so intent was he on his examination. He carefully felt all around Pippin’s head, frowning at the sticky lump he felt on the back. Checking each shoulder and arm, he found that the right wrist was broken in two places and that his right shoulder was dislocated. Aragorn looked closely at Pippin’s legs, but found them to be fine, except for being as badly bruised as the rest of his body. Last, Aragorn moved to Pippin’s ribs and gingerly felt them. At least two were broken on each side of his body and those greatly concerned him. “Thomas,” he said, straightening up, “I need more water. Go and see what you can find and heat it for me.” Thomas nodded and left the tent. “Legolas, who removed his mail?”

“Gimli and I did, Aragorn. He was having trouble breathing and there was blood in his mouth and he seemed to have swallowed some of it. We did not know what to do, so we took it off to relieve some of the pressure and it seemed to help. He threw up a lot of this black blood.” Legolas looked at Aragorn uncertainly, as if unsure that they had done the right thing. It was a state Aragorn had never seen the elf in before and he reached out and gently touched his shoulder.

“You did well, mellon-nín,” he murmured. Aragorn glanced at Halbarad, “Will you finish stitching up Sam?” Halbarad nodded and moved to the hobbit while Aragorn turned back to Legolas. “I need some kind of wood for splints for his wrist.” Legolas quickly left the tent and Aragorn took what cool water remained and began cleaning the black blood off of Pippin.

The sun had been set for several hours before Aragorn sat back with a weary sigh, running his eyes over Pippin’s badly bruised body. The wrist bones were set and splinted, shoulder pushed back in place and heavily bandaged, ribs were wrapped, his deep head wound cleaned and stitched. The hobbit had awoken briefly, but Aragorn had pushed into a healing sleep. Looking around the tent, he saw that Thomas and Gimli were sound asleep, curled up next to Frodo and Sam, as if they were trying to protect them. Legolas and Gandalf were sitting nearby, talking quietly as they watched over the athelas that Aragorn had left steeping by the two hobbits. Taking up more of the fragrant leaves, Aragorn breathed on them before crushing them and placing them in a bowl. Pouring hot water on the leaves, he inhaled the steam himself for a moment, letting it refresh and strengthen him, before moving the bowl near Pippin’s face. He watched as the lines on the hobbit’s face eased and after a moment, Aragorn set the bowl down near the hobbit. He carefully got to his feet, stretching his tired back and sore muscles and after a glance at Legolas and Gandalf, he ducked out through the tent flap.

Aragorn looked around the camp and it appeared that most, if not all, of the wounded had been moved. The camp echoed with the sounds of the injured men and he cringed inside at their pain. Poking his head back inside the tent he said quietly, “I am going to go and help with the wounded men for a little while,” he informed Legolas and Gandalf.

“We will watch over the little ones,” Gandalf replied, looking at Aragorn intently. “Are you sure you should not be resting, Aragorn?”

Aragorn shook his head. “My people are hurting, Gandalf and I can ease their pain.” He came back into the tent and took up the athelas leaves, leaving a handful behind for the hobbits and went back out of the tent. Aragorn looked at the Citadel Guardsmen who had sentry duty at the door of his tent, saying sternly, “Do not let anyone in there unless he is one of my rangers, Prince Imrahil, Éomer King, Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir, or one of the four who are in there now.” The guards nodded. Glancing at Halbarad, Laegrist and Alvist, Aragorn turned and strode off through the camp, his personal guards following, though Halbarad was quickly at his side and quietly speaking to him. As he moved among the injured men, he looked them over carefully, stopping at those who seemed to be the most severely injured and most in need of his attention. He sent Alvist off to get some hot water from one of the central fires and he labored through the night healing his men.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Rebecca paced restlessly in her room as she waited for the Warden to come and remove her stitches. The thought of having them out made her both excited and incredibly nervous. She was not at home where she knew there would be no pain and Aragorn, Elladan, or Elrohir were not here to do it either. She knew they would do it well and with little or no pain. Rebecca sighed in frustration and fingered the cords on her sling. There had still been no word from Aragorn, though she knew it really was too soon. Little more than twenty-four hours had passed and it would be tonight at the earliest before they heard anything. She forced herself to sit down and pick up the latest book Faramir had given her and she absently flipped through the pages, though she did not read. There was a quiet knock on the door and then Lothrín walked in, carefully carrying a steaming cup.

“Good afternoon, Lady Rebecca,” the aide greeted her.

“What’s that?” Rebecca asked, eyeing the cup suspiciously.

“This is to put you to sleep so the Warden can take the stitches out,” Lothrín answered, handing her the cup. Rebecca sniffed it and recognized it as something Lord Thalion had shown her. With a grimace and, a sense of relief that she would not be awake during the removal of the stitches, she quickly downed the herbal drink.

“Now, come and get out of your shirt and I’ll remove your bandage so you can lie down. That’ll take effect rather quickly.” Rebecca was soon lying on the bed and drifting off to sleep. She awoke several hours’ later to muted voices in the room and she lifted her head to look around. Lothrín was quickly at her side with Éowyn hovering behind her. Rebecca blinked sleepily up at them as Lothrín asked, “How do you feel, Lady Rebecca?”

Rebecca frowned thoughtfully and stretched her back and right shoulder and then smiled. “I feel wonderful. It doesn’t pull anymore.” She carefully sat up, marveling at the freedom of movement she felt, even though there was still a light bandage covering the wound. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, Rebecca became aware of the noise of rushing feet in the hallway. “Did something happen?” she asked, glancing from the door to Éowyn and Lothrín.

Éowyn nodded, “We received messages from Lord Aragorn and my brother a short time ago.” Rebecca’s eyes lit up and Éowyn laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. “There was no news, Rebecca. I am sorry. The messages just asked for healers and supplies to be sent to some place in Ithilien.”

Rebecca looked down at the floor and then something Éowyn had said struck her and she looked back up at her. “You heard from Éomer?” she asked, “He’s all right?”

Éowyn shrugged, “I think so, the message was sent to Marshal Elfhelm, so all I know is that he is alive.”

Rebecca took Éowyn’s hand and squeezed it gently. “If he’s writing messages, I’m sure he’s fine.” Éowyn nodded. “So all the noise I hear is…?”

“They are packing up all the supplies we can spare and almost all of the healers and aides are leaving. Lord Faramir wants them on the way first thing in the morning,” Lothrín explained.

“Are you going?” Rebecca asked.

Lothrín shook her head, “No, Lord Faramir requested that I stay. Though, Alpheth,” she glanced at Éowyn, “will be leaving, Lady Éowyn.”

“It matters not, Mistress Lothrín. I can manage just fine on my own, my arm barely causes me any distress,” she replied dismissively.

“Still, Lady Éowyn, I shall attend on you, at my Lord Steward’s request.”

Rebecca bit back a smile at the look on Éowyn’s face. “I think I’d like to go out to the garden,” she announced, slowly standing from the bed. “Maybe Merry is out there.”

“Merry is almost always out there,” Éowyn commented with a worried frown.

“He is so worried for Pippin and with Frodo and Sam destroying the Ring and probably being… dead,” Rebecca whispered, shaking her head. “It’s so hard for him.”

“And for you,” Lothrín said, placing her hand on Rebecca’s arm and patting it gently. “You’re just as worried as Master Merry. The both of you go and find him,” she said, shooing them towards the door.

Nodding, Rebecca walked to the door, glancing at Éowyn in time to see her shoot an irritated glare at Lothrín. She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing. Walking down the hallway and steering clear of the people rushing around with supplies, Rebecca found herself asking, “Éowyn, what will you do now that the war is over?”

Éowyn shrugged before looking at her closely and Rebecca felt like she was examining her as if she wasn’t sure whether or not she could trust her. Not that Rebecca particularly blamed her, they didn’t know each other that well, and mere circumstances had put them together. Yet, they did have a lot in common and she didn’t think it was that difficult or personal of a question. Evidently finding what she was looking for, Éowyn slowly answered, “I will return to Edoras, Rebecca. Eventually I shall have to marry someone and have children.” Rebecca could not help but hear the despair and bitterness in her voice.

“Do you have to marry even if you don’t want to?”

Éowyn snorted. “I am royalty and it is expected that I shall,” she sighed. “Whether I love the man or not is not important.”

“I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispered as they walked into the garden. They paused, searching for Merry and spotted him sitting on a bench under a tree.

“And you, Rebecca, what will you do?”

“I-I’m not totally sure, Éowyn. I guess I will live here since Aragorn is going to be the king,” she focused her gaze on the ground, knowing the topic might bother Éowyn. “Other than that, I really don’t know.”

“Will you marry Thomas?” Éowyn asked bluntly.

Rebecca stopped and stared at her for a moment, before shaking her head and walking on. “I don’t even know if Thomas is alive,” she said quietly. “If he is… well, we have never talked about it. Though, I think Aragorn would make us wait awhile if we did, I’m still pretty young.”

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen… almost seventeen.”

“That is a little young, I guess, but it is not unusual for a girl to get married at that age.”

Rebecca shrugged, wishing she could tell her more about who she was and that in her world it was young to get married at that age. Maybe when Aragorn returned she would be able to. “I know it’s not, Éowyn, but Aragorn has made comments that make me think we would have to wait before we could get married. Thomas is young too,” she pointed out. Éowyn just nodded as they reached the bench Merry was sitting on. “Hello, Merry,” Rebecca said, touching him on the shoulder as she passed behind him, circling the bench to sit next to him, with Éowyn following close behind.

“Rebecca, Éowyn,” Merry greeted them with a small nod and troubled eyes. “How do you feel, Rebecca?”

“I’m fine, my back, my side, and my stomach feel wonderful. I’m so glad to be rid of those stitches!”

“You are fortunate you had Aragorn and his brothers taking care of you, Rebecca,” Éowyn commented. “Most people with that severe of an injury would either be dead or, at the very least, would still be in terrible agony. I saw your back today and you will have very little scarring.”

“I know, Éowyn. Elladan singing over me helped with the scarring I know, but I also know how lucky – how fortunate I am that they were all there to take care of me.” Rebecca glanced to the east. “I wonder how long it will take for them to come back.”

“I imagine it will be some time since they are asking for healers and supplies. They mean to take care of the wounded there. It is too great a distance to transport them back here,” Éowyn replied.

Merry shook his head, “Maybe they could just send Pippin back. If he’s still alive,” he added darkly.

Rebecca took his hand and squeezed it gently. “You… we can’t just sit here and do nothing, but worry Merry. Is there anything else we can do?” Merry shrugged, staring at his feet and Rebecca glanced at Éowyn who shook her head and gave a half shrug with her unbandaged right shoulder. “Can we leave the Houses of Healing and go for a walk?”

Merry looked up hopefully at that and Éowyn said slowly, “I am not sure that we can without the Warden’s permission.”

“Why not?” Merry and Rebecca said at the same time, and they grinned at each other.

“Because we are under his care, and you, Lady Rebecca, are the King’s ward and should not be wandering about without an escort, just as I cannot.”

Merry snorted. “I would be her escort, and yours.”

Éowyn looked at him thoughtfully and then smiled, “I believe that would work, except I do not think that we will be able to ask the Warden today. He is busy with overseeing the packing of the supplies and things for tomorrow.”

“Could we ask Faramir?” Rebecca asked hopefully.

“I believe he is arranging for the wagons and horses to haul everything down to the ships that are being used to ferry everything up the river.”

Rebecca sat back with a frustrated sigh, “Well, maybe we can do it tomorrow.”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Thomas nodded absently at the guard as he ducked into the King’s tent, where Pippin lay sleeping, so that he could bring Gimli some dinner. The dwarf and Legolas were taking turns watching over the hobbit, while Thomas was running errands and doing various things for Aragorn. The last couple of days had been a nightmare as the army had moved from the Morannon to the Field of Cormallen in northern Ithilien. Thomas had ridden in one of the wagons with the three hobbits during the move. All of the hobbits had been tightly bundled in bedrolls and blankets against the jarring and lurching that was caused by the movement of the wagon. He had held Pippin, as Aragorn was especially concerned about his broken ribs not being banged around and possibly puncturing a lung.

Cormallen was a beautiful, peaceful place that was situated on the banks of the Anduin River near the island of Cair Andros. It was surrounded by beech and oak trees and Thomas appreciated, once again, the scents of the herbs that filled the air and the flowers that were starting to come to life as spring approached. Aragorn had had his tent set up slightly apart from the others near the edge of the tree line and had a smaller tent set up behind his, just within the trees for Frodo and Sam. He did not want them disturbed during their recovery.

There was an open area right in front of Aragorn’s tent and then there were the camps for his rangers, and the first company of the Citadel Guard. They had taken over general sentry duty on the king at Prince Imrahil’s direction, though Aragorn would have none but his rangers as personal guards. Downriver from the King’s camp were the tents and shelters for the wounded men and then the camps of Prince Imrahil and his Swan Knights, as well as the rest of the Gondorians. Upriver, Éomer camped with his Rohirrim.

Handing Gimli a plate of stew, Thomas whispered, “Has he moved or anything?”

“No, lad, he hasn’t,” Gimli shook his head, glancing down at Pippin’s still form.

Thomas crouched down and brushed a stray curl of Pippin’s hair off of his face. “But Aragorn called him awake this morning and he stirred then.” Thomas frowned, “Do you think this is normal, Gimli?”

The dwarf shrugged, “I don’t know, Thomas. But I trust Aragorn.” He returned to eating his stew.

“I am glad to hear that, Gimli,” Aragorn said with a small, weary smile as he entered the tent, followed closely by Halbarad and Hinluin. Gimli chuckled as Aragorn knelt down next to Pippin and began examining the hobbit.

Even as Thomas watched Aragorn with Pippin, he glanced at Hinluin from the corner of his eye. The young ranger had still not spoken with him since he had told him about his brother and it saddened Thomas. He turned his attention fully back to Aragorn and Pippin as the hobbit began to stir, much to Thomas’s relief.

“Pippin,” Aragorn called softly, stroking the hobbit’s hair and Pippin’s eyelids began to flutter open.

“Strider?” he asked weakly.

“Yes, Pippin, I am here.”

“It hurts, Strider.”

“I know, Pippin, I am sorry,” Aragorn said softly.

“Is-is Merry here?”

“No, not yet,” Aragorn cast a meaningful glance at Thomas, who nodded once.

“Oh. Is-is everyone else all right?” he whispered, squirming on the cot.

“Yes, Pippin, everyone is fine,” Aragorn said soothingly, taking his hand to try and still the hobbit’s movement, not wanting him to further injure his ribs or shoulder. He hesitated for a moment. “In fact, Frodo and Sam are here, too.”

Pippin’s eyes, which had been sliding closed, shot open and he clenched Aragorn’s hand tightly. “They’re alive?” he whispered

“Yes.”

“Can-can I see them?”

“They are resting, Pippin.” Aragorn continued rubbing his hand in a soothing manner.

“All right, Strider,” he murmured, his eyes shutting as he drifted back to sleep.

With a final gentle squeeze of the hobbit’s hand, Aragorn rose gracefully to his feet and moved to the farthest corner of the large tent away from Pippin, motioning Thomas, Gimli, and Halbarad to join him. “We must send for Merry,” he said quietly. “Indeed, I should have sent a message already telling him and Rebecca that we are all alive,” he frowned slightly.

“You’ve been busy,” Halbarad pointed out.

“I am aware of that, cousin, yet it would have only taken a moment and would have relieved what I imagine has been a considerable amount of worry for them.” Aragorn ran his fingers through his hair. “In any case, we can do it now. Thomas, will you write a letter to Faramir from me, asking that Merry be sent here with the next shipment of supplies? I will, of course, sign it. You may write a letter to Merry and Rebecca telling them how we fare. Do not give them too many details about the hobbits, but do let them know they have been injured and are recovering. There is parchment and ink on my table.” Aragorn gestured outside the tent where a table had been set up so that all the space inside the tent could be used for those sleeping here – Aragorn, Thomas, Elladan, Elrohir, Gandalf, and now, Pippin. Though Elladan, Elrohir, and Aragorn had not slept since they had arrived and Thomas had only seen Gandalf a few times when he had brought food to the wizard where he sat keeping watch over Frodo and Sam.

“Aragorn, can Rebecca come with Merry?” Thomas asked in his raspy voice, his mouth curved into a hopeful smile.

Aragorn glanced at Hinluin, “Hinluin, will you wait outside. In fact, go and rest now.” The ranger hesitated briefly and then nodded. Aragorn watched him go with eyes full of compassion and then turned back to Thomas. “It is not appropriate for Rebecca to be here, Thomas,” he said quietly, his stern, tired eyes never leaving Thomas’s.

Thomas blinked rapidly. “Not appropriate?” he asked incredulously. “How can it not be appropriate Aragorn? She traveled with us for months.” He looked at Aragorn in disbelief.

“She did so out of necessity, but there is no longer that need, Thomas. To be in this camp full of men…” Aragorn shook his head and rubbed his hand over his blood-shot eyes. “Where would she sleep? Certainly not in here.”

“There are women healers and aides coming, aren’t there?” Gimli spoke up.

Aragorn glanced down at the dwarf and nodded.

“She wouldn’t be the only woman here then. Couldn’t she stay with one of them? She’s a healer too,” he added.

“I had forgotten about the women healers,” Aragorn murmured, biting back a smile at Gimli’s obvious affection for Rebecca, though the dwarf would never say it directly. Aragorn turned back to Thomas with a thoughtful look. “As there will be other women here, then it would be all right for her to come. However, Thomas, there are two conditions. First, she was badly injured and while I believe the stitches should have been removed by now, that is not necessarily true. So, unless the Warden releases her from his care, she may not come. Include that in your letter to Faramir.” Thomas nodded. “Second, if she comes, you have to remember what we talked about before regarding a woman’s honor.” Thomas nodded again, though with a slight frown. “You will have a lot of free time now, unlike when we were traveling. I will also speak with Prince Imrahil to see if he thinks that you two need to have a chaperone.”

“A chaperone?” Thomas asked with dismay.

“I am sorry, Thomas, but as my wards, people will be watching you closely, even as they watch me.”

“Things you do will reflect on Aragorn, Thomas,” Halbarad said.

“I understand that, Halbarad,” Thomas snapped, before taking a deep breath and rubbing his throat. “I’m sorry, Halbarad, it’s just so different from my world.”

Aragorn put his hand on Thomas’s shoulder and gazed directly into Thomas’s eyes. “I know it is different, Thomas, and there are going to be many adjustments for you in the next few weeks as we settle into living in Minas Tirith. Some of which you will enjoy and some you will find difficult. This is one that is going to be difficult for you, I know that. Even so, I believe that this is one adjustment that will eventually be worth it for you. At least I think she is, do you agree?” He gave Thomas a sly smile and there was a faint twinkle in his tired eyes.

Thomas sighed and then grinned, “Yes, my Lord King, I do believe she is.”

“Then, Lord Thomas go and write the letters,” Aragorn said, pushing him towards the entrance of the tent. Aragorn waited until Thomas had been gone for a few moments before turning to Halbarad and Gimli. “I worry that he and Rebecca will not be able to adapt to living in Minas Tirith. Especially, I think, as my wards. It truly will be so different for them,” he said with a furrowed brow.

Halbarad snorted. “Like it won’t be different for you?”

“I am eighty-seven, cousin. I was raised in an elven home as the son of the lord and with servants and I also spent many years in Minas Tirith in and around the royal court and I have an appreciation and an understanding of what it will be like. I know I will feel fenced in by the stones of the city and the lack of freedom, but it is something that I have known about for years and will deal with it because I must. They have never had to deal with servants or with members of a court and they have no idea what it will be like to suddenly be looked at differently and to be expected to act a certain way, to dress a certain way, to have guards following…”

“Guards?” Halbarad asked.

“Yes, when we return to the city, I will assign them both guards.”

“Why?” Gimli asked.

“Because, Gimli,” Aragorn said with a sigh, “it comes along with being part of my household, people might hurt them to get to me. I have to have guards,” he looked pointedly at Halbarad, “but so do Faramir, Imrahil, and Éomer. I especially do not want Rebecca wandering around Minas Tirith unaccompanied.”

“She wouldn’t have to do that!” Gimli protested, “Me or Legolas or someone would take her where she wanted to go.”

“And just how long do you plan on staying in Minas Tirith, Master Dwarf?” Aragorn asked, looking down at the dwarf with his arms crossed.

Gimli looked down at his feet, “That’s a good question, Aragorn. I’ll be going home soon after we get back, I guess.”

“Not too soon, I hope,” Aragorn said with a small smile. “There are some things I would like you to be a part of with me. Well,” he sighed wearily, “I just hope that Rebecca and Thomas will be able to adjust quickly.”

“They will, Aragorn. Look at how they have adjusted to being here in middle earth and all that has happened to them,” Gimli said with a reassuring smile.

“You’ll help them, Aragorn,” Halbarad commented, “they’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Aragorn murmured with a thoughtful look in his eye as he headed back outside to continue tending the hundreds of wounded men.

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They found Faramir sitting at a table in the dining hall with a small stack of parchments in front of him and a furrowed brow as he studied the parchment he held. Rebecca and Merry exchanged a quick glance as they crossed the large hall and stood in front of his table and waited for him to look up. “Lady Rebecca, Merry,” Faramir said with a smile as he set what he was reading aside and looked at them. “Sit down.”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, thank you. Faramir, Merry and I have a favor to ask you.” Faramir raised an eyebrow in question. “We were wondering if you might be willing to show us around Minas Tirith.” Faramir looked between the two of them with a puzzled expression and started to say something when Merry spoke up.

“We know you’re probably busy, Faramir, but the garden is becoming so small and all we do is sit and worry. We thought it would be good to leave the Houses for awhile.”

“The Warden said we could leave for a few hours,” Rebecca said, looking at him somewhat anxiously, knowing that if he wouldn’t take them, they couldn’t go.

Faramir nodded, “I am not so busy that I cannot leave for a few hours. It will keep until my return,” he smiled.

“Do you know where Éowyn is?” Merry asked. “We spoke of this yesterday and she may want to come along.”

Faramir’s eyes darkened slightly, “I believe she would rather be alone just now,” he said, grabbing his cloak. Rebecca and Merry exchanged looks at that cryptic comment, but did not respond. “Have either of you seen the Citadel?” They shook their heads. “Of course not,” he said with a wry smile. “Neither of you have been anywhere in this city except here.” Faramir looked closely at Rebecca, “It will be a good place for you to see since you will be living there shortly.”

Rebecca smiled, “I would love to see it then. Is it far away?” she asked as they walked out the door.

Faramir shook his head. “No, it is just the next level up, the seventh level of the city. The whole top level is called The Citadel,” he explained as they started down the street. They walked past what appeared to be homes, though most looked as if they were currently unoccupied. From what Rebecca could see as she looked over walls or through gates, the homes appeared to be made of white stones or brick and the roofs were made of grey slate or tiles. She wondered who lived on this level of the city as most of the homes were quite large. She was going to ask Faramir when he commented, “This is the house where Mithrandir and Pippin stayed when they were in the city.”

Just on the other side of the house was a sloping, curved ramp with two guards standing on either side of it. Rebecca had never seen anyone dressed quite like them before. They wore a black uniform with silver trim and a picture of a silver tree across their chest. The silver helms were what made them look so strange though. They had both a cheek guard and a nose guard so you could barely see the guard’s eyes and only a little bit of their chin and mouth. The helm also had wings that swooped up and back and the overall affect of the guards was intimidating, which Rebecca supposed was a good thing. She glanced at Merry and saw that he was also looking at the guards, when she caught his eye, he smiled, leaning over and whispering, “Pippin has a uniform just like that. He’s a member of the Citadel Guard now.” Rebecca blinked and looked back at the guards, trying to imagine Pippin wearing a uniform like these guards were wearing. Her imagination didn’t stretch quite that far.

Faramir nodded at the guards and the three of them proceeded up the ramp. As they reached the top, Rebecca and Merry both stopped at the sight before them. Directly in front of them was an extensive and beautiful fountain with water flowing over and through rocks in intricate patterns and making a soft, burbling, pleasant sound in the late morning sunshine. Immediately to the left of the fountain was a large, ugly, whitish colored dead tree. Four more of the guards surrounded the fountain area and as Rebecca looked around, she saw that there were guards stationed at the top of the ramp and all around the outside of the Citadel at small towers spaced evenly along the wall. Behind the fountain was a tall, sparkling white tower that gleamed brightly. It was taller than any skyscraper Rebecca had ever seen and a white banner was flying from the top. To the right of the tower was a long, black building that had three or four steps leading up to what appeared to be massive gold doors. It was hard for Rebecca to see from the distance. Behind the tower she could see another building.

“Shall we go on?” Faramir inquired with just a hint of amusement in his voice.

Rebecca looked up at him and nodded and Faramir led the way to the fountain. “This is the Court of the Fountain and that is the White Tree.” Rebecca could hear the underlying note of sadness in his voice.

“Um, Faramir, that tree is dead,” Merry said.

“Yes, I know. It has been so for over one hundred and fifty years.”

“Why is it being guarded?” Merry gave the Steward a puzzled look.

“Because it came from Númenor and is a symbol of the kings of Gondor.”

“Númenor,” Rebecca mused quietly, “Aragorn told me a little about that.”

Faramir glanced at the guards and took her elbow and gently drew her out of earshot. “It is probably best if you do not display your lack of knowledge in front of the guards, Lady Rebecca,” he said quietly. “At least until I know what my Lord King intends to tell others about you.”

“In Rohan we told them we were from Rivendell because we wore elvish clothing and our weapons were elvish and no one ever asked us any questions.”

Faramir snorted. “They would not because they do not have a great deal of knowledge about places outside of Rohan. But in Minas Tirith, the people are more learned.”

“I have a lot to learn,” Rebecca sighed. “Aragorn did say one of the first things he would do was get me a teacher. I was always asking him questions, like about Númenor.” Merry chuckled softly. “So, what does the tree have to do with Númenor?”

“It is a descendent of the eldest of trees and it was a gift to one of the kings of Númenor by the elves of Valinor. When Númenor was destroyed, Elendil, one of Lord Aragorn’s ancestors, brought a fruit with him and planted it. It has remained a symbol of the royalty of Gondor since that time, though sometimes the White Tree was in Minas Ithil or in Osgiliath before those cities were destroyed by the enemy. Unfortunately, it does not often bear fruit and when the tree died it was left in place because no one has the heart to remove it.”

“How sad,” Merry remarked, glancing back over his shoulder. Rebecca looked back as well and as she did so, she noticed a guard was keeping pace with them. He wore a uniform that was slightly different than that of the Citadel Guards. It was black and white and had a much simpler helm.

“Faramir, why is there a guard following us?”

Faramir stopped and glanced back, shrugging. “I always have a guard attend me when I am in the city. Have you not noticed him around the garden?”

Rebecca furrowed her brow in thought, “Yes, now that you mention it, I guess I have seen him. I thought he was one of the patients.”

“Since I was old enough to go around the city on my own, I have had a guard with me, Lady Rebecca. Normally, it is one of the Citadel Guards, but most of those have gone with the Army so one of the city guardsmen has been assigned to me, so that we may have enough men to protect the Citadel. I imagine that most of the Citadel Guards are now protecting our Lord King,” Faramir paused and gave her a thoughtful look.

“Why do you need a guard?” Merry asked with a look of confusion.

“There are always those who would seek to hurt those in positions of power, Merry. Those who are upset by something they think should have been done a different way,” Faramir shrugged. “It is not something I spend a lot of time thinking on, it is just something I have known all my life. However, now that this has come up, I am going to assign a guard to Lady Rebecca.” Rebecca looked up at him, stunned and started to shake her head. “Yes, Lady Rebecca,” Faramir’s voice suddenly became quite stern, “as Steward of this city and because of the charge my Lord King gave me, your welfare and protection is my responsibility. It is something I should have thought of before. Lord Aragorn may, in fact, assign other guards to you when he returns, but for now, I will assign two guards to you.”

“Two?” Rebecca cried, looking at him in horror. “Why two? I can sort of understand why I have to have a guard,” she almost spat out the word, “but why


Chapter 27 - Resting in Cormallen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to J and Marsha for beta reading this chapter for me!
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Chapter 27 – Resting in Cormallen

Gentle laughter drew Rebecca and Thomas apart and they stood for a moment with their foreheads touching before halfway turning to look at Legolas and Gimli. Rebecca leaned against Thomas with her head on his chest and let out a contented sigh as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. Smiling at the elf and the dwarf, Rebecca began looking around the tent curiously, freezing when her gaze landed on Pippin and Merry. With a small cry, she pushed away from Thomas and rushed to where Pippin was lying on a cot, dropping to her knees next to the hobbit. Merry had Pippin’s unbroken hand in his and was whispering softly to his sleeping cousin. Rebecca looked at Thomas as he knelt next to her, his hand taking hers, their fingers intertwining. He placed his other hand on Merry’s shoulder.

“I know he looks bad,” Thomas said quietly, “but he is doing so much better than, what, a week ago?” He glanced up at Legolas.

“Less than a week, six days,” Legolas said softly. “He was awake this morning asking for you Merry.”

“What happened to him?” Merry asked in a trembling voice.

Legolas crouched down next to the hobbit. “He saved several men when he killed a troll chieftain,” he explained. “Gimli and I looked for him for hours and Gimli finally spotted him buried under the troll. His sword was still in the troll’s heart, but several of the men told us of his valor.” Legolas reached out and gently touched Pippin’s leg and a soft smile crossed his lips.

“How is he hurt?” Rebecca asked, looking at the bandages with a healer’s eye.

“His shoulder is dislocated, his wrist is broken, he has four broken ribs, a wound on his head, and he swallowed some of the troll blood so his breathing has been a little hard for him at times. Though it’s improved a lot,” Thomas explained. “Aragorn says he is healing well, it just takes time and there are so many wounded here and so few healers that Elladan and Elrohir haven’t been able to tend to him like they did for you.”

“He’ll be up running around and annoying us in no time,” Gimli said gruffly.

His words caused Rebecca to smile in spite of her worry and she glanced at Thomas and Legolas to see the same amusement in their eyes.

“Where are Frodo and Sam?” Merry suddenly asked. “Why aren’t they in here with Pippin?” his voice rose in his fear and worry and Pippin stirred on his cot.

“Shh, Merry,” Legolas soothed softly, “they are in their own tent nearby. I will take you there.” He stood to lead them and then paused and looked gravely down at Merry and Rebecca. “I will warn you that Frodo and Sam have not awoken since Gandalf brought them from Mordor. Aragorn has kept them asleep this entire time and their condition appears even worse than Pippin’s, yet Aragorn is certain they will recover in time.”

Merry and Rebecca exchanged worried glances and then nodded, following Legolas out of the tent. As they left the tent, Thomas took her hand and Rebecca smiled up at him and sighed softly. “It’s so good to see you, Thomas. I’ve been so lonely for you.”

Thomas nodded, “I’ve missed you too, but I’m so glad you weren’t here, Rebecca.” His eyes took on a distant, haunted look, “This was truly horrible,” he shuddered and then squeezed her hand. Pulling her to a stop, he gazed after Legolas and Merry and then looked around to see if anyone was in sight. His gaze fixed on a citadel guardsman who was standing some ten yards behind them and Thomas looked at him curiously. “May I help you?” he called.

“No, my lord,” he bowed.

Rebecca sighed, “That’s Gílorn, one of my guards.”

“Your guard? You have a guard?” Thomas glanced from Rebecca to the guard and then focused puzzled blue eyes back on Rebecca.

“Yes, Faramir decided I needed a guard. There are actually two of them and they take turns.”

Thomas smiled, “Aragorn has guards too and I think he hates it,” he confided quietly, mindful of the guard. “But he only lets his rangers be his personal guards. These Citadel Guards,” he motioned at Gílorn, “guard the tents and the encampment area.” He laughed quietly at Rebecca’s expression.

Rebecca snorted. “Well, if he has guards and I have to have them, who else do you think is going to have them?” she asked with a smug expression.

Thomas blanched, “He wouldn’t do that to me, would he?”

“Faramir has guards too, so I don’t see why you wouldn’t have them. It’s all very strange, Thomas,” she muttered, shaking her head and pulling on his hand. “I want to see Frodo and Sam.”

They slipped quietly into the tent and Rebecca saw that Frodo and Sam were also sleeping on cots that were pushed closely together in the rather small tent. Merry was kneeling between the cots, clutching Frodo’s hand, his head on Frodo’s arm, and Rebecca could hear him quietly weeping. Her heart clenched in pain as she saw Frodo and Sam’s still, pale faces with the numerous cuts and Sam’s bandaged head. Leaving Thomas, she moved to Sam’s bed and sat on the edge of the cot, taking his hand in hers and rubbing it gently. “Oh, Sam,” she whispered, looking at his rail-thin body and knowing the suffering he must have endured to bring him to that state. Rebecca blinked back tears and turned her gaze to Frodo. She could barely see him over Merry’s back and so she turned to scan the rest of the tent. “Gandalf!” she exclaimed quietly, smiling at the wizard who was sitting on a small stool in the back of the tent, a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.

“Hello, young lady. You appear to be much better than the last time I saw you.”

“I am,” she replied, rising and moving to greet him. Gandalf stood and patted her shoulder gently and Rebecca smiled inwardly at his reserve. She took both of his hands and squeezed them anyway, which she could see both surprised and amused Gandalf. “You look,” Rebecca paused and studied Gandalf for a moment, “more relaxed, I think, than I’ve ever seen you.”

Gandalf laughed softly and was joined by Legolas. “Not that you have known me very long, young lady, but yes, I suppose I am. The enemy who has threatened Middle-earth for two ages has been defeated at last and the ones I so worried about,” he indicated Frodo and Sam, “have been returned to us. So yes, I have every reason to be at ease for a time.” He laughed lightly and shook his head.

Rebecca laughed along with him for a moment and then glanced back at the hobbits and saw that Merry hadn’t moved. “I think he’s going to be there for awhile. Maybe I should go see Aragorn and come back later.”

“He will be very glad to see you, though he has been busy,” Gandalf cautioned her. Nodding, Rebecca followed Thomas from the tent.

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“Marshal Elfhelm’s message said that all of the enemy forces in Anórien have been destroyed. He left a small force there, but pulled the rest of our men back to Minas Tirith,” Éomer informed Aragorn and Imrahil.

“Good,” Aragorn nodded, leaning on the parchment and map covered table in the tent they were using as a headquarters in the center of his encampment. “I was concerned that the forces were larger than we had heard and that your men might have been overwhelmed. Prince Imrahil, how have our patrols done in seeking out the remains of the orcs and men of Sauron’s?” Aragorn rubbed his eyes.

“It goes well, my lord. We have four groups still out, led by Mablung, Damrod, Rilost, and Beraid.”

“Rilost and Beraid? They seem young,” Aragorn commented, “Though, I am sure we will have many young men leading our forces in the next few years.”

Imrahil nodded, “We lost many of Lord Faramir’s rangers, my lord and as young as those two are, Mablung said that they would normally have been promoted to lieutenant soon.”

Aragorn shook his head and then paused, tilting his head as he heard the sound of voices he recognized outside the tent. He smiled slightly and glanced at Éomer, but said nothing. The tent flap opened and a sentry stuck his head in. “My Lord King, Lord Thomas is here and would like to see you.”

“Send them both in,” Aragorn said, ignoring Éomer’s and Imrahil’s puzzled looks.

Thomas strolled into the tent with a wide smile, leading Rebecca by the hand. “I brought someone to see you, Aragorn.”

“Rebecca,” Aragorn stood to his feet with a smile, and moved towards her. He wrapped his strong arms around her and embraced her firmly; somewhat surprised by the way she was clinging to him. He gave Thomas a puzzled look, when he realized she was quietly crying, but Thomas shrugged. Aragorn pulled away and looked down at her with concern, tilting her chin up so he could see her eyes. “Why are you crying, Rebecca?” he asked softly.

“These are tears because I’m happy, Aragorn,” she said, smiling as she wiped them away with the back of her hand.

“Oh.” He pressed a kiss to her brow, giving Thomas a look of amusement, which he returned.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again and… Éomer!” she exclaimed, spotting him and another man, whom she had never met, standing on the far side of the table. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Lady Rebecca,” Éomer said with a smile, moving around the table to greet her. He took Rebecca’s hand and kissed it gently as his brown eyes examined hers. “You look well, my lady.”

“Thank you, I feel well. I have a letter for you from Éowyn, but it’s in my pack. Maldathor and Lothrín went to find a spot to put up my tent, so I’m not sure where it is right now.”

“Who are Maldathor and Lothrín?” Aragorn asked with a slight frown.

“Lothrín’s an aide from the Houses of Healing who’s been helping me since you left and she came as my escort.” Aragorn nodded in approval. “Maldathor is one of my guards,” Rebecca said with annoyance in her voice.

“Faramir assigned you a guard?”

“Two of them; Gílorn is waiting outside. Faramir said you made him responsible for my safety and even though I told him I would be safe enough here with you, he gave me guards anyway.”

Aragorn’s lips twitched with amusement as he listened to Rebecca. “I am glad Faramir did this, Rebecca because I intended to do so when we returned to Minas Tirith.” He raised his hand to stop her protests. “It comes with being part of my household,” he said gently. “Thomas will have a guard as well.”

Rebecca laughed and looked at Thomas, “I told you that you would have to have one.”

Thomas shrugged and sighed, “I’ll get used to it.”

Prince Imrahil cleared his throat and said with a small smile, “My Lord King Elessar, forgive me for interrupting, but may I be introduced to your ward? At least, I assume the young lady is your ward.”

Aragorn smiled, “Yes, she is and forgive me, Prince Imrahil; I had forgotten that you had not met Rebecca. Rebecca, this is Prince Imrahil, Lord of Dol Amroth.”

Rebecca looked him over curiously and noticed he was studying her just as intently. “You are Boromir and Faramir’s uncle aren’t you?” Imrahil nodded once. “Boromir mentioned you several times, my lord.”

“Boromir was a good man,” Imrahil replied, “and much loved by my family.”

“I’m sure he was, he was always very kind to me.”

Looking from Éomer to Imrahil, Aragorn asked, “Is there anything else pressing that we need to discuss this evening? I would like to meet these guards of Rebecca’s and see that she is housed properly. We can meet later if we need to.”

Imrahil shook his head, “No, my lord, we can meet in the morning. I would like to visit Erchirion, he is recovering well,” he sighed, “yet it will take time before he is able to be out of bed.”

Aragorn nodded and looked at Éomer who shrugged. “I have nothing, Aragorn. Perhaps I can come back later and get my letter?” he asked, his face unreadable and his gaze moved from Rebecca to Aragorn.

“Of course,” Rebecca said with a smile, while Aragorn nodded once and stared hard at the horse-lord before leaving the tent.

“I was not sure the Warden would release you, Rebecca,” Aragorn commented as they left the tent. “How do you fare?”

“I’m doing well, though my arm aches from time to time,” she said, glancing down at her splinted left arm. “My back and everything feel fine. The Warden was a little hesitant to let me come, but Merry and I convinced him.”

Aragorn stopped and looked down at her with an expression of concern on his face. “Is Merry with Frodo and Sam?” Rebecca nodded. “I am concerned that your arm still aches, you may be moving it around too much. Not that that would surprise me,” he said dryly. “I will look at it later. Is this one of your guards, Rebecca?” he asked, indicating a citadel guardsman standing a short distance from the tent.

“Yes.”

Aragorn looked at him with narrowed eyes, but did not like the fact he could not see his eyes very well. “Remove your helm,” he ordered quietly. He studied the man closely for a minute, taking in his sorrow filled eyes and was pleased when the man returned his intense gaze steadily, which many men could not. Aragorn nodded, satisfied with what he read in this guardsman’s eyes. “What is your name?”

“Gílorn, my Lord King,” he bowed deeply.

“Have you done this before?”

“Yes, several times, my lord, though mostly for visitors to Minas Tirith.”

“I expect you to protect Lady Rebecca well; she is most dear to me.”

“Of course, my lord, it’s a great honor to serve you in this way.”


Aragorn nodded in dismissal and the guard stepped back as Aragorn, Rebecca, and Thomas walked on. Rebecca glanced back to see two of Aragorn’s rangers were also following them and she laughed quietly.

“Aragorn, when you get Thomas a guard, it will look like a parade is going by whenever we walk somewhere.” Aragorn snorted with amusement, but Thomas just grimaced. Her tent had been set up across the clearing next to the large tent where they slept and Aragorn could hear low voices within it as they approached. He was pleased at the size of the tent that Faramir had found for Rebecca, though he was somewhat surprised considering the pressing need that they had for shelter for the wounded. He would have to ask Faramir about it when he saw him. Following Rebecca into the tent he saw a pleasant faced middle aged woman in the dress of a healer’s aide and a young man in the uniform of the Citadel Guard setting up a cot on the far side of the tent. Aragorn watched with hidden amusement as their eyes widened as they looked from Rebecca to him.

“Lady Rebecca,” the woman curtseyed, though her eyes stayed fixed on Aragorn and the guardsman just stood silently, glancing from Rebecca to Aragorn and then finally to Thomas.

“Mistress Lothrín, Maldathor, I want you to meet King,” she paused and glanced up at Aragorn, “am I supposed to introduce you as Aragorn or Elessar? I’ve never actually done this before.”

Aragorn laughed loudly and put his hand on her shoulder. “I have not done it either,” he confessed in a whisper as he smiled down at her. “No, you better introduce me as Elessar, though you will still call me Aragorn.”

“I’ll try this again. Mistress Lothrín, Maldathor, I want you to meet King Elessar and this is Thomas.”

“My Lord King Elessar, Lord Thomas” they both said, Lothrín curtseying again and Maldathor bowing deeply.

“Maldathor,” Aragorn motioned for the guardsman to join him and he studied him as he approached. He was much younger than Gílorn and that worried him a bit, though he knew Faramir would have picked men that were well suited to protect Rebecca. Gazing at him intently, Aragorn watched as Maldathor cheeks began to flush under his scrutiny, but the guardsman did not look away. “Have you done this before?” he asked.

Maldathor shook his head, “No, my Lord King.”

Aragorn frowned slightly, “Do you know why My Lord Steward selected you for this duty?”

“He said it was because my captain informed him that I was the best,” Maldathor cleared his throat, “the best at observing things around me and that I was quick with my sword, my Lord King,” he stared at the ground.

“Hmm, then you should do well,” Aragorn smiled at Maldathor as the man lifted his head. “Take good care of Lady Rebecca, Maldathor.”

“Yes, my lord,” he said, bowing.

Aragorn turned to Lothrín with a gentle smile, “Mistress Lothrín, I thank you for the care that you have given Lady Rebecca and for coming here to… look after her.” He glanced down at Rebecca to see the slight frown on her face and he smiled inwardly.

“You’re most welcome, my lord, it’s been an honor to serve both her and you,” Lothrín smiled at her long awaited king and looked at him closely.

Smiling faintly at her scrutiny of him, Aragorn asked, “Have you been in the Houses of Healing long?”

“No, my Lord King just since my husband died some years ago in Osgiliath.”

“I am sorry,” he looked at her with compassion. “Have you any family? No one to care for you?” he asked gently.

Lothrín smiled, “Oh, I have a wonderful daughter and two grandsons and…and a son-in-law that is here. At least I hope he is,” she said, her smile fading. “But I serve in the Houses because I want to do my part to help against the darkness, my Lord King.”

“In what company does your son-in-law serve? I shall send Lord Thomas to inquire after him.”

“That would be wonderful. His name is Celeblas and he is in the third company.”

Aragorn glanced at Thomas and he slipped from the tent. “Please sit, Mistress Lothrín,” he indicated the cot. “It will be some time before he returns.” As she started to protest, he suppressed a sigh and sat on the other cot and she quickly followed suit. Aragorn studied Lothrín for a moment and then turned to Rebecca and Maldathor. “Rebecca, Maldathor, please wait outside the tent while I speak with Mistress Lothrín.” Maldathor bowed and left immediately, but Rebecca hesitated briefly before slowly following the guardsman out of the tent. Aragorn turned back to Lothrín to find her watching him with a slight bit of apprehension in her eyes, but mostly curiosity.

“What does my Lord King need?” she asked quietly.

Smiling, Aragorn asked in a low voice, “I wondered if you might be willing to leave the Houses of Healing and be Lady Rebecca’s maid.”

“Me?” Lothrín looked truly startled. “But I know nothing about how to do that and I’m not nobly born, my lord.”

“I know which is why you would be perfect for her in many ways. You could learn what was needed to be a maid.” Aragorn paused, looking at her shrewdly. “Did you know how to be a healer’s aide when you went to the Houses of Healing?” Lothrín shook her head. “I thought not. I do not know what Lady Rebecca has told you about her family, Mistress…”

“Next to nothing, my lord,” Lothrín interrupted and then paled. “Forgive me, my Lord King,” she whispered.

“It matters not,” Aragorn said gently. “Lady Rebecca’s family died some time ago and she became my ward. Lord Thomas’s family died as well. But, her family, being in the north, was not of the nobility and I fear it may take her some time to adjust to the royal court. You have a kind heart and I sense that she likes you and is comfortable with you. I believe that it would help her to have someone around her that she is already familiar with.” Aragorn watched Lothrín for a moment before he continued more slowly. “Even if you would agree to do this for only a few months, I would be most grateful, Mistress Lothrín. You do not have to give me your answer today; we will be in Ithilien for some time yet.”

Lothrín nodded and gazed at Aragorn for a time before smiling. “I will do this, my lord. But I would ask that if Celeblas is lost to my daughter and me that I be allowed to stay in my home with her and my grandsons. I would come early and stay late, but my daughter will need help. Otherwise, I will, of course, live in the King’s House as is expected of a lady’s maid.”

Aragorn nodded gravely, “Thank you, Mistress Lothrín. We will work out housing arrangements that will best serve your needs.”

“Halbarad!” Rebecca’s excited voice rang out from outside the tent.

“I believe my cousin has arrived,” Aragorn said dryly. “We will speak more of this later, but you may speak of it with Lady Rebecca if you wish.” Lothrín nodded and Aragorn arose and stepped outside. Walking to join Halbarad and Rebecca, he was relieved to see that most of the guilt seemed to have faded from Halbarad’s eyes as he stood talking quietly with her. He arrived in time to hear Rebecca ask, “Do you know what happed to Hasufel? Thomas told me he has Baldor and that Aragorn has Roheryn. Did someone else need to use Hasufel?”

“I know not, lady,” Halbarad turned to Aragorn with an eyebrow raised in question.

“I am not sure, but I believe that one of the Rohirrim took him, Rebecca,” Aragorn said softly. “I am sorry, but we were so short of horses.”

“That’s all right, I sort of thought that’s what happened,” Rebecca looked down at the ground for a moment and then gazed up at Aragorn with a small smile. “Of course you know what this means don’t you?”

Aragorn had a very good idea where this was going, but shook his head anyway.

“You owe me a horse,” she said simply, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Hmmm, owe you a horse,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing in thought. “I am sure that in times of war, the king is allowed to confiscate personal property if it is needed. What do you think, cousin?” Aragorn asked, glancing at Halbarad with a faint smile.

“I believe that the lady is right as you were not actually the king at that time,” Halbarad replied impassively.

“I told you, Aragorn,” Rebecca grinned. “You owe me a horse, but this time I want one that is the right size for me, so that Halbarad can teach me how to saddle it and take care of it like he promised.” Halbarad suddenly coughed and looked at her in disbelief before smiling slightly.

“I believe we have both been taken advantage of, cousin,” Aragorn said with a smile spreading across his face. “All right, Rebecca. It may take me some time, but after we return to Minas Tirith, I will find a horse for you.”

“I’m not in any hurry, Aragorn. I can’t ride right now, anyway. I’d just like to have a horse again someday. I think it might actually be fun to ride one without having to ride, oh say, seventy or eighty miles in a day.”

Halbarad chuckled and Aragorn just shook his head. “I see your sense of humor has returned, Rebecca.” She shrugged and then glanced beyond Aragorn and he turned to see Thomas returning, followed by a man, dressed in the uniform of the city guard, who had a bandaged leg and was limping. Assuming him to be Lothrín’s son-in-law, Celeblas, he looked to see Lothrín running across the grass towards the guardsman.

“Celeblas!” she cried as they embraced each other. Aragorn smiled at their reunion and turned back to Halbarad and Rebecca. “I am going to go see Merry and check on Frodo and Sam. Rebecca will you come or would you like to stay with Thomas and meet us later for supper?” Aragorn glanced at Thomas over Rebecca’s head to see the eager expression on the young man’s face.

“Oh, I think I’ll stay with Thomas,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been with Merry quite a bit in the last few weeks.”

“Then I will see you in a couple of hours.”

Thomas took Rebecca’s hand as he watched Aragorn and the others leave until it was just him and Rebecca and her guard, Gílorn, standing in the little clearing in front of the tents. He sighed and then looked down at her. “Let’s go down to the river, I can show you around camp tomorrow. I’d rather just sit and talk tonight.”

“Me, too, I’m not that anxious to see the camp.”

Thomas didn’t say much as he led Rebecca through the tents of the Citadel Guardsmen that surrounded the King’s camp, though he was suddenly aware of the coarse jesting of the men as they passed and he cringed. He saw Rebecca’s face flush and Thomas tried to think of another way he could bring her on their return and decided it would probably be better to go through the area where the wounded were being tended. “I’m sorry, Rebecca,” he whispered and she just shook her head and shrugged. Thomas saw, from the corner of his eye, that Gílorn had moved up protectively and he was grateful for his presence. Not that he was afraid of these men, but he realized it probably would be unwise for Rebecca to be unescorted in the camp and he knew that he wouldn’t always be able to be with her. As they moved past the tents and into the clearing that sloped down to the river, Gílorn dropped back. Thomas led Rebecca to a large beech tree, taking off his cloak and spreading it out for them to sit on.

“What happened, Thomas?” Rebecca asked quietly, reaching out and gently touching the fading bruises on his neck.

“An orc grabbed me,” he said, staring out at the river as he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. Rebecca waited patiently for him to go on and finally he continued in a low, hollow voice, still staring at the river. “My feet slipped on the hill we were on and I slid right into his hand and he choked me,” he closed his eyes and shuddered. Rebecca leaned against him, rubbing his hand gently. “I-I couldn’t pry his hands off of me and eventually I blacked out.” Thomas finally looked down at Rebecca and put his arm around her. “I guess he thought I was dead because he didn’t stab me and later I woke up. But…“ Thomas bit his lip and returned his gaze to the river for a moment and then sighed deeply. “The feel of its hands around my neck and knowing I was going to die…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “Later I found Hinhael lying there and he was still alive…” Rebecca drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes. “Yes,” Thomas said quietly, “he died when I was with him and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. No one could have.”

“How’s Hinluin doing?”

Thomas shrugged, “He hasn’t talked to me since I told him.”

“He will, he just needs time, you remember how that is.”

He nodded shortly, “Yes,” he whispered, “I do. He doesn’t have any family left, not any immediate family anyway. Uncles and aunts and people like that I guess.” Thomas shook his head and changed the subject. “How about you? How do you feel and what have you been doing?”

“I feel fine, better now that I’m here and can see you and Aragorn and know that Pippin and everyone will be all right. Once I could get up, all I’ve been doing is walking in the gardens. Talking with Merry mostly, sometimes with Éowyn or Faramir,” she frowned slightly as she realized she needed to talk with Aragorn and Gandalf about what she had told Faramir. But she pushed it to the back of her mind to deal with later. “I got to read some books too,” Rebecca smiled, “Faramir got some for me and they were interesting.”

Thomas smiled and kissed the top of her head as he pulled her closer. He glanced around for Gílorn, but the guard was standing well behind them and seemed to be watching the river. “You must have enjoyed that,” he commented. “Do you like Faramir?”

Rebecca nodded, “I do, he’s very different from Boromir in many ways, like he enjoys books and talking about elves and things like that, but sometimes Faramir really reminds me of him, he has certain looks or gestures that are just like Boromir. And Faramir is very kind and understanding. But then sometimes he can be very intense and almost intimidating in a way that I never saw Boromir act. At least in a way that Boromir never acted towards me, maybe he was different with you.”

“What did he do to you?” Thomas asked sharply, pulling back and looking at Rebecca closely.

“Oh, it was nothing,” she said, shaking her head and shrugging.

“Rebecca,” Thomas growled.

She giggled, “You’ve been taking lessons from Aragorn.”

Thomas grimaced, “What happened? Why won’t you tell me?”

“I’d just rather wait and tell you with Aragorn and Gandalf, all right? I don’t want to have to tell the story more than one time and really it’s all right, Thomas.”

“All right, but I won’t forget this and you need to tell us soon,” Thomas drew her back into his arms.

“Tonight, if we have time.” Rebecca promised. “Faramir took me and Merry to see the Citadel yesterday and I got to see where we’ll live. Well, at least some parts of it. I didn’t go into the King’s House because I wanted to wait and do that with Aragorn and-and you if you were still alive.” She smiled up at him, “I didn’t know then if you were,” she sighed. “But there is a huge place called Merethrond for feasts and this tower where Aragorn’s throne is. It’s going to be interesting living there, Thomas.”

“It’s interesting enough just living here and being called, ‘lord’. I’m starting to get used to it, but it still makes me want to look around to see who they’re talking to.

“I guess I have it easier in that sense because I’ve been called lady since I’ve been here.”

“Aragorn said we might have to have a chaperone.”

“A chaperone?” Rebecca exclaimed, looking at him in horror. “Why?”

“Because of who he is,” he shrugged. “Honestly, I’m surprised we don’t have one with us right now.”

“Maybe he forgot.”

Thomas snorted. “Do you think he would forget something like that? No, I think it’s more likely that he thinks having a guard with us is enough… at least out here. I don’t know what will happen in the city.”

“We have to talk him out of it,” Rebecca said desperately. “I’ve read books and … Never mind, we’ll never be able to talk him out of anything like that.”

“No, but hopefully he’ll trust us and decide that having a guard will be enough.” Thomas rubbed his forehead. “It will be all right, Rebecca, whatever happens, we’ll be together and there’s peace now and it will work out.”

Rebecca nodded, “It will be nice to have a home, Thomas,” she murmured.

“Um hum,” he said, leaning down and kissing her tenderly and then more urgently, both his arms wrapping around her and one hand moving up into her hair, running it through his fingers. She returned his kisses with equal fervor, her hand going to his cheek to draw him closer. “Thomas,” she finally whispered, breathless, “Gílorn is here.”

“I know,” he said, continuing to kiss her before reluctantly pulling away, “and,” he sighed, “if we don’t want a chaperone, then we can’t break Aragorn’s trust in us.”

Glancing at Gílorn, Rebecca saw that his back was slightly turned away from them and she smiled softly before looking back at Thomas. “You’re getting a beard,” she commented, touching his cheek again.

“I know,” he said ruefully, rubbing the stubble along his jaw. “And they don’t have razors here, you have to use a knife and I haven’t wanted to do that yet.”

Rebecca laughed and leaned back against him, “Everyone else has them except for elves and hobbits so just let it grow.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

She shrugged and glanced up at the setting sun, “Do we need to go back?”

“Probably,” he said standing and helping her to her feet. “I’m going to go back a different way, it’s a little longer.”

“That’s all right.”

They walked back hand in hand, Thomas pointing out various things as they passed through the healer’s tents. Rebecca suddenly smiled as she spotted one of Aragorn’s brothers. She looked at him closely and when he smiled she knew who it was, “Mae Govannen, Lord Elrohir.”

“Mae Govannen, indeed, Lady Rebecca,” he said walking towards her, his grey eyes studying her intently. “It is good to see you once again. How do you fare?” he asked.

“I feel fine,” she shrugged. “Thank you for taking care of me, Lord Elrohir. I know I wouldn’t have survived without it.”

“You are most welcome, though truly it is something that I am honor bound to do for all who are injured.”

“That may be true, but you have my thanks anyway.”

Elrohir nodded graciously, “Are you returning to camp now?”

“Yes, Aragorn was planning on us eating supper with him,” Thomas said.

“I shall join you,” he said, walking along with them back to the King’s camp where they joined Aragorn, Gandalf, Halbarad, and Gimli around the small fire and they ate their supper, talking quietly. Elladan joined them towards the end of the meal and greeted Rebecca with a smile and soft words of welcome. Gimli left to watch over Pippin and Legolas came and ate his meal as Aragorn, Gandalf, and Halbarad pulled out their pipes, much to the elves dismay.

As the night deepened, Thomas turned to Rebecca and spoke quietly, “Will you tell us now about what happened with Faramir?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No,” she whispered vehemently. “I only want to tell Aragorn and Gandalf, because I-I think they’ll be mad at me and…” she stopped at Thomas’s look of concern.

“Then let’s do it now, so you can stop worrying about it,” he whispered.

Aragorn cleared his throat, “It is not polite to whisper,” he said with amusement in his voice. Rebecca and Thomas looked at him with guilty expressions and he frowned slightly.

“Aragorn, can Rebecca and I talk to you and Gandalf privately?” Thomas asked, ignoring Rebecca as she pulled on his sleeve.

Exchanging a quick, puzzled look with Gandalf, Aragorn slowly nodded, “Of course. We will go into my tent.” Taking a burning stick from the fire, Aragorn led the other three into his tent and after lighting the candles, gestured for them to sit around his table. Thomas and Gandalf did so, but Rebecca stood there, nervously playing with the strings on her tunic. Aragorn gave Thomas a questioning look, but he shook his head and gestured to Rebecca. “Rebecca,” Aragorn said softly, “what is wrong? Did something happen?”

Rebecca nodded, biting her lip and then she finally sat down in a chair and glanced at Gandalf before fixing her gaze on Aragorn. “When, um, I was in Minas Tirith, I sort of told, um Faramir that…”

“You told Faramir that you were not from here,” Gandalf stated, interrupting her.

Looking at Gandalf, she nodded and then dropped her gaze to the ground, ignoring Thomas’s sharp, indrawn breath. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, Gandalf. Well, I guess that’s not totally true, I did decide to tell him after… after he started asking me questions about things that I couldn’t really answer.” Rebecca looked up at Gandalf, her eyes pleading for understanding and was shocked to find a smile on his lips, looking at Aragorn she saw that he was smiling faintly as well.

“Did he believe you, Rebecca?” Aragorn asked

“Not at first,” she admitted, turning to Thomas. “That’s when he got so intense and intimidating, Thomas.”

“What did he do?” Aragorn asked sharply.

“Nothing really,” Rebecca shrugged, “but he has eyes that can see right through you at times.”

“Why did he believe you?” Gandalf asked.

“Merry. He told him how you found me and Thomas and what we were like and finally Faramir decided that if both of you and his brother believed it was true, then it must be true. He’s really… wise, I think, Aragorn. He had started asking me these questions about why I was with you and yet I hadn’t been there when Boromir was killed and why I had been trained in Lothlórien and then you had left me there and then Gandalf brought me with him. It was just little things either I or Merry had said over several days that didn’t make sense to him. When I told him I wasn’t supposed to talk about it, he was willing to let it drop, but-but I decided to tell him anyway.” Rebecca shrugged and looked steadily at Aragorn. “I’m sorry if it was wrong, but I felt like I could trust him.”

Aragorn met her gaze for a moment before saying, “It was your decision to make, Rebecca. You were the only one there and there was no one there to guide you, unless maybe you asked Merry?” Rebecca nodded. “And he thought you should tell him?” She nodded again. “If we had not returned you would have had to have told him anyway. I intended to tell Faramir about you and Thomas when we returned and so no harm has been done. It really does not surprise me that he would suspect something was different about you.”

“Faramir quite easily reads the hearts of people,” Gandalf interjected.

Nodding, Aragorn continued, “Anyone who spends very much time with you or Thomas will probably see things that are different about you.” Rebecca and Thomas exchanged appalled looks. “Be at peace. Here in the southern part of my kingdom, most will assume it is because you are from the northern part of Middle-earth.” Aragorn glanced at Thomas, “You know that Imrahil has suspected something is very different about you since he first met you and he studied you very intently today, Rebecca.”

“Why?” Thomas asked with a puzzled frown. “I don’t look any different than anyone else.”

“I imagine it is Imrahil’s elvish blood, small though it is, that allows him to sense something different about you,” Gandalf answered for Aragorn, who nodded in agreement.

“So I will talk to him before we return to Minas Tirith and set his mind at ease,” Aragorn said, “and I also intend to talk to Éomer. I will let him decide whether or not to tell Éowyn.”

“I want her to know,” Rebecca said eagerly. “There are things I would like to tell her and I can’t.”

“Have you become friends then?” Aragorn asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t say close friends or anything, but she’s the only young woman I know and we have a lot in common and we did spend quite a bit of time together.”

“Hmmm,” Aragorn said. “Well, I will still let Éomer make that decision.” He was not sure how much time he wanted Rebecca to spend with Éowyn knowing the feelings that she had for him. Yet he also knew that Rebecca needed a friend that was close to her age and that Éowyn would not be staying in Minas Tirith for very long in any case. “I will let everyone know that Faramir knows the truth about both of you and also that I intend to speak with Éomer and Imrahil.”

“Do you want us to be with you, Aragorn?” Thomas asked.

Aragorn shook his head, “No, I think I will speak with them first, and then if they have questions, they may seek you out. Now, come and return to the fire.” They rose and returned to the fire, where they sat late into the night sharing stories and just enjoying one another’s company.

0-0-0-0-0

“Éomer!” Aragorn’s voice broke the stillness of the early morning air and caused the young King of Rohan to turn and smile at his friend. Two busy days had gone by and this was the first time Aragorn had had a chance to speak with him about Rebecca and Thomas. “May I speak with you, or do you have pressing duties this morning?” Aragorn returned his smile.

“No, I have time, I was just going to walk for awhile along the river, and I needed to speak with you as well.”

The two kings reached the river and headed upstream, guards trailing well behind them and for some time they spoke of inconsequential things. Finally, Aragorn asked, “What did you want to speak with me about?”

“There are two things, actually. I would like to make Merry a Knight of the Riddermark and wondered if you thought that would be an appropriate thing to do. I am not aware of their customs and did not want to offend him in any way.”

Aragorn paused and stared thoughtfully out across the river, “That is well thought of, Éomer and he would be honored, though they have no such things in the Shire.”

“It was Éowyn’s idea actually, for what he meant to Théoden King and then, of course, for his valor on the Pelennor.”

Nodding absently, Aragorn thought about Pippin and Thomas. “Would you mind waiting a few days until Pippin is moving around more easily? I believe I will make him a Knight of Gondor.” He decided to speak with Gandalf about Thomas before making a decision about him.

Éomer nodded, “As long as we do it before the celebration you are planning for the Ringbearer and Sam, it will be fine. I want it to be special for Merry.”

“There are no more deserving individuals in all of Middle-earth than those four hobbits and yet most men will overlook them because of their size,” Aragorn shook his head. “The things they have done can never be repaid.”

“No, but we shall give them what honor we can and be content.”

Aragorn nodded and they fell quiet for a moment before he asked, “What else did you need to speak with me about?”

Éomer took a deep breath and stared out across the river. “I wanted to speak with you about Rebecca.”

“I thought as much,” Aragorn commented, sitting down on a rock on the bank above the river. Éomer slowly sat down close by and Aragorn waited patiently for him to continue.

“I realized that I could never marry Rebecca. I mean,” Éomer hastened to explain at Aragorn’s raised eyebrow, ”even if she returned my love, I could not. I am the King of Rohan now and I will have to marry someone of an appropriate station,” he snorted, dropping his head for a moment. “Rebecca is not of noble birth, and even as your ward she would not be acceptable to my councilors or my people.”

“I know,” Aragorn said softly.

Éomer continued staring out at the water. “Forgive me if I have offended you, Aragorn. I would never do that to you intentionally… or to Thomas either,” he frowned.

“I have not been offended, Éomer. Our heart loves where it will and we cannot control it. I well know that,” Aragorn smiled briefly.

“Do you have… are you married?” Éomer asked, looking at Aragorn curiously. “I never thought to ask you.”

“We have not spent a great deal of time together talking about things other than war,” Aragorn pointed out dryly. “No, I am not married.” He held up his hand to forestall any further questions. “I want to tell you more about Rebecca and Thomas; it is why I sought you out this morning. You have known since Isengard that there is something different about the two of them.”

“Yes, and I have often wondered why Rebecca has traveled with you.”

Aragorn paused to collect his thoughts. “Éomer, I know not how to tell you this in a way that will make it easy for you to believe, but I ask that you listen and trust that what I am telling you is the truth.”

Éomer stared hard at Aragorn. “Of course I trust you, my brother,” he responded, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Good. Thomas and Rebecca have only been my wards for about three months.” Éomer’s eyes widened in surprise. “I know, it seems much longer to me as well, but we have been through many difficult things together and that tends to draw people close. They truly have no one else, only the members of the Fellowship and a few others know their true story.” Éomer nodded, his eyes both curious and confused. “About a week after we left Rivendell, we found Thomas and Rebecca lying unconscious in a clearing.”

Éomer drew in a sharp breath, “How did they get there? Were they badly injured?”

Aragorn gave his friend a wry smile, “We still do not know how they got there, and yes, they were quite injured. They had the oddest injuries, Thomas’s were all down the right side of his body – scrapes and cuts that needed stitches and Rebecca was injured on her left side, including a broken wrist. It was quite strange,” he remarked, shaking his head in remembrance.

“What do you mean you do not know how they got there?” Éomer asked sharply, his face a mask of confusion. “Surely when they awoke they told you?”

Slowly shaking his head, Aragorn continued in a low voice, “They did not know either. I have not explained everything yet, but they were wearing clothes that none of us had ever seen before and the shortest hair we had ever seen on a man or a woman.”

“Aragorn, what exactly are you telling me?” Éomer asked, his expression becoming guarded.

Running his fingers through his long, dark hair, Aragorn met Éomer’s gaze steadily for a long moment. “Éomer, Rebecca and Thomas are not from Middle-earth. There are from someplace called earth. Neither they, nor Gandalf, nor any of us know how they got here nor why they came.” Aragorn watched Éomer’s eyes cycle from confusion to disbelief to something else that he could not read.

Jumping to his feet, the horse-lord began pacing back and forth in front of the rocks the two of them had been sitting on, while Aragorn just watched him, waiting for the barrage of questions he knew Éomer would have. But the first question he asked surprised Aragorn.

“Then the two of them could just disappear as suddenly as they appeared?” Éomer was watching Aragorn intently.

“It is possible, yes.”

“Why did you not tell me this earlier?” he asked a glimmer of hurt in his eyes.

“Gandalf and I chose not to tell others until we deemed it safe to do so. We were not warmly welcomed in Edoras, Éomer and since then,” Aragorn smiled faintly, “we have all been rather busy. There has not been a pressing need for you to know this.” He saw Éomer visibly relax.

“No, no, I suppose that is true,” he responded dully, returning to the rock and sitting on it heavily as Aragorn watched him curiously, surprised at his seemingly easy acceptance of what he had just told him. “Another world,” Éomer said quietly. “How can there be such things, Aragorn?”

“I know not, yet it is true. You have only to speak with Rebecca and Thomas and ask them of this place they are from and listen to their stories to know it is the truth, Éomer. The things they have seen and done, the… the way they travel from place to place and…” Aragorn shook his head, “The things they have told us about none in the Fellowship can understand.”

“They must have been terrified to just end up here without knowing anyone.”

“They were.”

Éomer shook his head, “No wonder they are so close,” he commented. “Are their parents truly dead then?”

“Yes, at least we know their fathers are. There was a war in their world when they were quite young and both of their fathers died. While we do not know for sure how they arrived here, there was some kind of an accident on a ‘bus’ they were riding on with their mothers and Thomas’s younger brother. If the explosion was somehow responsible for bringing them here, it seems likely that their mothers have died. But we may never know.”

Éomer shook his head, “And so you made them your wards.”

Aragorn nodded, “They have no one else, Éomer, and while at first I took them into my keeping out of a sense of duty, now it is because I truly care for the both of them.”

“I know,” Éomer smiled. “May I speak of this with them?”

“Yes, they knew I was going to tell you and I will also speak with Imrahil later today. I give you leave to tell your sister if you think it wise. I know that Rebecca would like Éowyn to know the truth about her as she has no woman to speak to of certain things, but do as you will.”

Éomer nodded, “I need to go and meet with some of my Marshals now, Aragorn.” He paused for a moment. “I pray the Valar will not suddenly rip them away from you… from us. I would miss them, both of them.”

“Me, too,” Aragorn said fervently, clasping Éomer’s shoulder briefly before they headed back to camp.

0-0-0-0-0

Thomas glanced up from the list he was making for Aragorn to see Hinluin standing in front of his table and his eyes widened in surprise. “Hello, Hinluin. Did Aragorn send you to get something from me?” he asked his voice carefully neutral.

Hinluin shook his head, looking down at the table, “No, no he didn’t.” He took a deep breath. “I just wanted to speak with you. Can I sit down?” he lifted his gaze to meet Thomas’s, who nodded and gestured to the stool on the side of the table. Perching on the edge of the stool, Hinluin rested his elbows on the table and crossed his arms in front of him as he looked at Thomas. “I… I wanted to ask you about Hinhael,” he said, his voice rough and low.

“What do you want to know?” Thomas asked quietly, not sure how to respond to his friend’s pain.

Hinluin swallowed hard, “Well,” he paused for a long moment, “you were there and… how did he die, Thomas?”

Thomas shook his head desperately, “Hinluin, you don’t want to know that. What difference does it make?” He knew Hinluin would understand the horrible pain Hinhael had endured if he told him of the terrible wound he had suffered – it had not been a quick death.

“I just want to know… it’s important to me,” he pleaded.

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Thomas relented. He opened his eyes and grabbed Hinluin’s hand, “He was sliced open deeply across his stomach, Hinluin. There was nothing anyone could have done for him… not even Aragorn or his brothers could have saved him.” Hinluin squeezed Thomas’s hand tightly and lowered his head and Thomas felt hot tears strike his hand. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

After several moments and long shuddering breaths, Hinluin looked up at Thomas. “Thank you for being with him,” he took his other hand and scrubbed at his face. “It helps to know he wasn’t alone.”

Thomas nodded and shrugged slightly, “I tried to bring him… his body back, but there were men and they wouldn’t let me do it. They were the ones that said I should take the brooch and his ring.”

“Both will mean a lot to his wife.” Hinluin breathed deeply and sat up, wiping away the last of his tears from his sorrow filled eyes. “I don’t know what I’ll do now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I only have an aunt and an uncle and a few cousins left up north and my sister-in-law of course, but she’ll probably go back to her family since they didn’t have any children. Maybe I’ll stay in the south here with Aragorn, but it’s so different here and I don’t know if I could live in a city.”

“I hope you decide to stay, I’d like having you around.”

Hinluin nodded, “I have a lot of time to decide, but it helps knowing you would be here as well. I need to go and find my Lord King to see if he does have any errands for me.” Hinluin stood and looked intently down at Thomas, “Thank you again, my words cannot express my appreciation, Lord Thomas,” he bowed, turned and strode rapidly away, while Thomas just stared after him with an expression of shock on his face.

0-0-0-0-0

“Careful, Pip,” Rebecca cautioned as the hobbit prepared to climb up on a large rock near the river. “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet.”

“I’m just going to sit on it, not jump off of it,” he retorted, clearly annoyed.

“Aragorn just let you leave the tent this morning, I doubt he wants you climbing around on things, your ribs and your wrist are still healing,” she replied.

“Merry, tell her I’m fine,” he pleaded.

Merry shook his head and said with a smile, “She’s the healer, not me.”

“I’m not getting involved,” Thomas said with a small laugh when the hobbit looked at him. Legolas and Gimli both shook their heads as well.

Pippin frowned and then let out a small laugh, “All right, all right,” he said moving away from the rock. “I’m just tired of being fussed over.”

Gimli snorted. “If you hurt yourself again by being foolish, Peregrin Took, none of us will be fussing over you.” The others laughed while Pippin turned slightly pink and they walked on before settling down under some trees.

“How much longer is Aragorn going to keep Frodo and Sam asleep, Legolas?” Pippin asked with a worried frown as he sat leaning against Merry.

“I am not certain, but when he was with them this morning, he thought it would only be another day or two.”

“It will be so good to talk to them,“ Merry said quietly. “But I don’t really know how much to ask or… if they will want to talk about what happened to them.”

Legolas gave Merry a gentle smile. “Be yourself, Merry,” he advised softly, “and you will know. Legolas glanced around at the others, “With the celebration Aragorn has planned everyone will be honoring Frodo and Sam highly and, while we will as well, they need their friends to just be ourselves and treat them as we normally would.”

“Does anyone know how long we are staying here?” Rebecca asked as Thomas pulled her closer to him. “I mean now that Frodo and Sam are almost well.”

“A few more weeks at least,” Thomas replied. “Even if they are awake, it doesn’t mean they are well and there are lots of other wounded men.”

“Good,” she sighed, “I like it here.”

“You don’t want to live in that big fancy place?” Merry teased.

Rebecca laughed, “I suppose it will be all right, Merry, just strange and different.”

“It’s not as nice and comfortable as a hobbit hole,” Pippin said with a grin, which Rebecca returned.

“Or even a dwarven cave,” Gimli sighed and the others exchanged glances at the note of longing in his voice.

“I have fond memories of Lothlórien,” Thomas said, kissing Rebecca tenderly.

“My memories of Lothlórien are more mixed,” Rebecca said with a small grimace, “but living amongst the trees would be nice.” She glanced at Legolas who smiled.

“While many of my people live in trees and cottages in the forest, my family and many others live in a large underground palace built into a hillside. It is very beautiful and you rarely realize you are underground because of the lighting. Any of you,” Legolas looked around, his gaze resting longest on Gimli, “are welcome to visit my home.”

“I would like to see it,” Rebecca said, “I’d like to see all of your homes, but I don’t know if or how I ever could.”

“Thomas will bring you,” Pippin said with a grin. “Won’t you, Thomas?”

“If-if I can,” he answered slowly, gazing down at Rebecca who was studying her feet and absently playing with the cord on her sling. She looked up at Thomas and then glanced behind him to where Maldathor was standing and she sighed.

“We don’t really know what we’ll be doing, Pippin. I mean,” Rebecca frowned as she looked at the hobbit, “what do I do during the day? Do I get a job? Does Thomas?” She held up her hand to stop their comments so she could finish her thoughts. “I know… we know,” she leaned closer to Thomas, “we’re Aragorn’s wards, but we can’t just sit around all day either.”

“Have you asked Aragorn about your concerns?” Legolas asked looking between Rebecca and Thomas with suddenly intense blue eyes. They both shook their heads.

“Why not?” Gimli growled.

“He’s so busy,” Thomas pointed out, “and I only see him when he has something for me to do.”

“Except for the day I arrived, I’ve only talked to him a few times and most of those were at supper and it never seems right then,” Rebecca said.

“We can wait until we return to Minas Tirith,” Thomas shrugged.

“Do you think Aragorn will be less busy then?” Merry asked. “He’ll probably be even busier.”

Rebecca and Thomas looked at each other. “He did warn us a long time ago,” Rebecca commented in a low voice as Thomas nodded.

“Warned you? Warned you of what?” Gimli asked.

Rebecca sighed, “That his kingly responsibilities would pull him away at times, but it didn’t mean he didn’t care.”

”It was good that he spoke to you,” Legolas said. “You must trust that Aragorn does have things in mind for you when you return to Minas Tirith, he will not have forgotten your needs. You are both too important to him,” he smiled gently. “I am not aware of any plans he may have, but both of you need to learn about the history of Middle-earth and perhaps he will arrange tutors for you.”

Rebecca smiled and Thomas grimaced slightly as he muttered, “I don’t want to go back to school.”

“As I said, I do not know Aragorn’s plans, it was just a thought.”

“I am not making anymore plans,” Aragorn announced as he slipped noiselessly through the trees and sat down next to Legolas with a smile. “Not tonight at least.”

“We were just talking about you,” Pippin said with a grin.

“So I heard,” he said, glancing around, his gaze lingering on Rebecca and Thomas who moved slightly apart under his scrutiny and he suppressed a grin. “I did not mean to interrupt your conversation,” he said leaning back against the tree and closing his eyes, “though since you were talking about me, maybe it was best that I did.” Everyone laughed.

“Are you finished… working for the day?” Rebecca asked.

Hearing the cautiously hopeful note in her voice, Aragorn opened one eye and gave her an appraising look before closing it again and saying quietly. “A king’s work is never done, Rebecca. There is always something I could be doing, but I knew you were all together here and I simply chose to spend the rest of my day with my family and friends,” he opened his eyes and smiled at her and she grinned back.

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A hint of movement from Frodo brought Aragorn to his side and he crouched down on the ground next to the hobbit’s cot. He had called both hobbits back to a level where natural sleep had taken over and now it was just a matter of time until they awoke. Frodo continued to stir and then his eyes fluttered open, looking at the roof of the tent before his gaze slowly moved around and finally landed on Aragorn. “Aragorn,” he breathed.

“Hello, Frodo,” he said softly with a gentle smile.

Frodo gave him a puzzled frown. “B-but how? We… the mountain… Sam!” he exclaimed, struggling to sit up, “Where’s Sam?”

Aragorn gently, yet firmly held him down, “Shh, he’s right here, Frodo, look.” He gestured to the cot next to him and Frodo relaxed back with a sigh.

“But how did we get here, Aragorn? Wherever this is.”

“This is Ithilien, and Gandalf rescued you off the mountain with the help of the eagles.” Aragorn watched Frodo’s eyes widen in shock, it was one of the reasons he had asked Gandalf to wait outside, he wanted to tell Frodo he was alive before he saw the wizard.

“He-he died, Aragorn.”

Aragorn nodded, “The Valar sent him back.”

“Is he here?”

“Yes, as are Merry and Pippin,” he smiled at the look of relief that filled Frodo’s eyes.

“And the others?”

Aragorn paused. “Legolas, Gimli, Thomas and Rebecca are here. I will explain why she is here at some other time,” he said at Frodo’s look of confusion. “Boromir however died at Amon Hen, Frodo.”

“No,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

Aragorn took Frodo’s hand, “Yes, he fought bravely defending Merry and Pippin,” he said, his voice laced with sorrow.

Frodo looked up at him with a sad little smile, “I-I wanted to talk with him about…” his voice trailed off.

Gazing at him thoughtfully for a moment, Aragorn’s eyes strayed to Frodo’s right hand, “I wish you could have. Now,” he said briskly, “there are some people anxious to see you and you have been abed long enough.” He helped Frodo sit up.

“How long has it been?”

“Almost two weeks.”

Frodo stared at Aragorn and then looked down at his body, quickly making a fist of his right hand. “I’ve been asleep for two weeks?”

“You needed it,” Aragorn said firmly, his hand on Frodo’s shoulder. “Truly I did not think either of you would survive.”

“Neither did I,” Frodo muttered.

“Yet you did,” Aragorn grinned and after a moment Frodo laughed. “I will get Gandalf. Merry and Pippin have other duties right now, as do I, so I will leave you in his capable hands.”

“What about Sam? Why isn’t he awake?”

“He is just sleeping, Frodo and will awake soon.” Aragorn knelt down and embraced him firmly. “It is good to see you again and without the heavy burden you carried for so long.”

Frodo leaned against him for a moment. “It’s good to be back,” he whispered, “I never thought to see you again.”

Aragorn released him and stood, “I will see you later this afternoon.” Opening the tent flap, he gestured to the impatiently pacing Gandalf, who glared at him as he entered the tent. He watched with a smile as Frodo ran to Gandalf before he dropped the tent flap and returned to his own tent.

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Thomas looked down at the new clothes lying on the cot and then glanced at Aragorn with a wry smile. “Because I’m your ward, right?” he asked as he fingered the black leggings, black tunic and silver shirt. The tunic had the tree of Gondor with the crown and the seven stars above it embroidered on it in silver. A new black hauberk, long black boots, and a black mantle completed the outfit.

“Yes,” Aragorn grinned from across the tent where a similar outfit waited for him, though his shirt and mantle were white and he would also wear the Star of Elendil on his brow. “I sent for them, knowing how much you like new clothes and you haven’t had any since Lothlórien.”

“You gave me this shirt not too long ago,” Thomas reminded him, pulling off the one Aragorn had given him after the fight with the wargs. Aragorn laughed. “What did you get for Rebecca to wear?”

“I was not sure there would be time to have anything made for her, but Faramir had thought ahead. He actually had already arranged for dresses to be made for her before she left Minas Tirith and one was sent out here.” Aragorn shook his head slightly, wondering how Faramir had even thought about having that done for Rebecca.

“I hope it’s not black,” Thomas muttered, looking down at himself.

“You don’t like black?” Aragorn grinned as he belted on his sword.

“Not for everything, don’t they wear other colors here?”

“Yes,” Aragorn laughed, “but for formal occasions black is the preferred color for men of royalty. You’ll have to get used to it. I do not believe Rebecca’s dress is black however. Are you ready?” Thomas nodded and Aragorn led the way outside where they found Halbarad, Legolas, and Gimli waiting for them. “Where are Merry and Pippin?”

“Éomer sent for Merry,” Legolas replied. “He will be serving him this afternoon.”

Aragorn nodded, “As Pippin will serve me. Did he go ahead to the pavilion?”

“I believe so, my lord,” Halbarad said.

Aragorn looked at him with narrowed eyes for a moment, but then gave him a faint smile. He realized that while Halbarad had changed and was willing to call him by his first name in front of some people, he would never do so when Aragorn was wearing the Star of Elendil or other things that proclaimed his Kingship.

“I’ll get Rebecca,” Thomas offered, walking towards her tent, pulling absently on the new mantle he wore. It was much shorter than his cloak and it felt strange as he walked. Glancing at Gílorn, who nodded, Thomas stopped outside Rebecca’s tent, “Rebecca,” he called, “are you ready?”

“I’ll be right out.”

Thomas stepped back a few paces and glanced back to see that Elladan and Elrohir had joined Aragorn, while his remaining rangers stood off to one side. He supposed they were some kind of an honor guard since this was the first sort of official celebration of Aragorn’s… Elessar’s reign. Thomas decided he really needed to find out why he was changing his name; he had never thought to ask. He turned back as the tent flap opened and Rebecca stepped out. Thomas just stared, letting his eyes roam over her. She had looked pretty in an elven dress in Lothlórien, but this dress was made specifically for her and she looked absolutely stunning. In Lothlórien he was just beginning to realize that he loved her and now their love was mutual and much deeper. He knew that he was going to have to speak with Aragorn soon after they reached Minas Tirith about marrying her.

“You look handsome, Thomas,” Rebecca’s voice broke into his thoughts and while he could hear a hint of amusement in her tone, her cheeks were becoming pink under his silent scrutiny.

“Thanks,” he replied after clearing his throat. Stepping forward, Thomas took her hand and whispered, so Gílorn wouldn’t overhear, “You look stunning, Rebecca. You’re always beautiful of course,” he smiled, lightly stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, “but I never get to see you like this.”

“I think you’ll see me dressed this way a lot more often,” Rebecca laughed. “But thank you. It is beautiful,” she commented glancing down at her elegantly embroidered maroon dress. “The tailor did…”

Thomas lifted her chin and kissed her, “You are beautiful, not the dress,” he growled, pulling her close to him and kissing her again.

“Rebecca, Thomas,” Aragorn called, “we need to leave.”

With a slight grimace, Thomas turned and led Rebecca back to the others where he met Aragorn’s raised eyebrow and inquiring gaze steadily. Aragorn glanced at Rebecca before saying, “You two stay with Legolas and Gimli during the ceremony.” They nodded and he turned to lead them to the pavilions that were located on the far side of the large encampment downstream. Aragorn glanced back, “Come and walk with me, Lady Rebecca,” he invited with a sparkle in his eye as he looked at Thomas. Thomas stared back at him with dismay before dropping his gaze while muffled laughter was heard from those aro


Chapter 28 - Coronations

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to J and Marsha for beta reading this chapter for me!

Words in [...] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Author Notes: I have included this quote from Tolkien because it seemed appropriate! "This story takes me in charge, and I have already taken three chapters over what was meant to be one! And I have neglected too many things to do it." (J.R.R. Tolkien, Letters, no.62)

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Chapter 28 – Coronations

Minas Tirith loomed above the company slowly making its way across the Pelennor as twilight beckoned. There was no sense of urgency, no quickened pace to reach the city before night fell as the approaching king intended to camp one final night outside the city gates before the formal crowning ceremony in the morning.

At the head of the column, Aragorn, who was surrounded by men he both loved and respected, felt strangely isolated as he gazed up at the White Tower that was turning pink in the light of the setting sun. He had come now to the place where others’ prodding, his own sense of duty and honor, and his own desires had led him. Part of Aragorn knew that, in some ways, the new challenges he faced in the years ahead would be as difficult as the ones just past. And he was not just thinking of wars fought on distant battlefields, though he knew there would be those, Aragorn was thinking of conflicts with his own people. Conflicts with advisors, councilmen, nobles, and merchants who would not approve of the way he ran the country as he sought to rebuild Gondor and Arnor from the years of war it had suffered.

Yet Aragorn knew that the joys of the coming years would far outweigh any difficulties he faced and it was those thoughts he clung to as he rode towards the city. The joys of marriage, of having children, of simply having a home after years of wandering, those were the things that made him look forward to becoming king tomorrow; not for the power and the prestige it gave him, but because it gave him the opportunity to do the one thing he had longed to do for seventy years – marry his beloved Arwen. Aragorn smiled as his gaze drifted down from the White Tower to the tents they were approaching.

Members of the Citadel Guard and some of his rangers had ridden ahead to secure the encampment and Aragorn tossed Roheryn’s reins to Laegrist as he dismounted. He smiled inwardly as he saw that the camp had been set up exactly as it had been at Cormallen. Arrangements had been made for Faramir to come down later to discuss the plans for the ceremony, but for now all that needed to be done was to enjoy supper and the company of his companions and Aragorn strolled to the fire where many of them had already gathered.

Supper was over and pipes were being pulled out when Faramir arrived. Aragorn saw him pause briefly at the edge of the small clearing, his eyes sweeping over the group, before striding purposefully forward. He smiled as he rose to greet him, “My Lord Steward, welcome.”

“My Lord King Elessar,” Faramir bowed deeply.

Aragorn glanced around the fire at his friends, “I believe you know everyone here.”

“Yes, my lord,” he bowed slightly to Rebecca, “It is good to see you again, Lady Rebecca.”

“Hello, Faramir,” she smiled.

Faramir turned to Frodo and Sam and bowed deeply once again. “Master Frodo, Master Samwise, I never thought to see either of you again so perilous was your path, that I do so brings me great pleasure.”

Sam turned pink and stuttered slightly as he said, “Hello.”

Frodo nodded as he quietly replied, “It’s good to see you again, Lord Faramir.”

Faramir and the rest of the group nodded and murmured quiet greetings before he turned back to Aragorn and the king motioned for his steward to take a seat on one of the small stools around the fire. “Is everything in readiness for the morning?” Aragorn asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes, my lord. It took some time to find the proper ceremonial traditions in the records for the crowning of a king, but we eventually discovered what we needed in the library.” Faramir glanced at Rebecca with a faint smile.

“What does it entail?”

“After I return the Rod of the Steward to you, you take the crown and place it on your head yourself,” Faramir shifted his gaze to the ground for a moment. “There is no one else with the authority to crown you, my lord King. After that, Lord Húrin, Warden of the Keys, will open the barrier to the city for you to enter in. It is actually a very simple ceremony.”

“Hmmm,” Aragorn murmured, looking at Faramir thoughtfully, “I believe we must make some changes with these traditions, my Lord Steward.” Faramir’s eyes widened and Aragorn could almost feel him begin to panic. “Be at peace, Lord Faramir, these changes will not give you or your servants’ additional work, nor do I believe the people of Minas Tirith will be upset with them.”

“I am yours to command, my lord King, as are all of the people in this city.”

Aragorn suppressed a sigh even as he inclined his head in acknowledgement of Faramir’s words. “First, I will be giving you back your Rod of Stewardship, as I told you before I need you at my side and that has not changed,” Aragorn gazed steadily at Faramir until the Steward nodded once. “When you give me the crown, I will hand it to Frodo,” he glanced at the hobbit who had gasped in dismay. “Yes, Frodo,” he said gently, “I would not be here without you and would have you be a part of this with me.” Frodo nodded reluctantly. “I would ask that Frodo give the crown to Gandalf to place on my head, for without him none of this would have ever come to pass. He has sufficient authority to do this, I think,” Aragorn glanced at Gandalf with a smile that the wizard returned. “Does that sound reasonable, my lord Steward?”

“Yes, my lord,” Faramir looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes, I think it suits very well indeed,” he smiled and nodded his head.

“And the other arrangements?”

“The royal apartments in the King’s House have been prepared for you,” Faramir glanced around the fire. “However, I also took the liberty of preparing the guest house where Mithrandir and Pippin stayed in the event some members of your Fellowship would be more comfortable there.”

Aragorn nodded, “Rebecca, Thomas and my brothers,” he glanced at Elladan and Elrohir who nodded, “will stay in the royal apartments. Where would the rest of you like to stay?”

Pippin spoke up, “I want to stay in the guest house, it has a kitchen so we can fix our own meals whenever we want!” Laughter broke out around the fire.

“I would also prefer to stay in the guest house, Aragorn,” Legolas said with a small smile, “I have been around royal courts enough in my life.”

Aragorn saw a flicker of disappointment cross Thomas’s face as the rest of the Fellowship members decided to stay at the guest house, but there was nothing to be done for it. He turned to Halbarad, “Will you camp here with the rangers or join me?”

Halbarad fidgeted slightly for a moment. “I will join you and leave Captain Caladithil in charge here, my lord.”

Giving his cousin a half smile, Aragorn turned back to Faramir, “Is there anything else?”

Faramir shook his head, “Just the feast tomorrow night and all those arrangements are done.” He hesitated, “Unless you have certain things you require for that.”

Laughing, Aragorn shook his head in return, “No, my lord, I will leave that matter in your hands.”

“Actually, I turned it over to the Master of Protocol and those used to doing such things, my lord, but I have complete confidence in them.” Aragorn nodded and Faramir stood to leave.

“Must you leave so quickly?” Aragorn inquired. “I had thought to send for Imrahil and your cousins to join us. Perhaps Éomer as well, I do not believe you have met him.”

“No, my lord. I mean, I don’t have to leave and I-I haven’t met Éomer King,” Faramir fumbled over his words, much to Aragorn’s amazement. He heard Rebecca start to giggle quietly beside him and he glanced at her sharply and she stopped though her eyes still danced with amusement. Glancing around the fire, he saw that Merry shared Rebecca’s amusement when the hobbit flashed her a quick grin and knew instantly it had something to do with Éowyn.

“Sit down then and I will send for Imrahil. Hinluin,” Aragorn called over his shoulder to the ranger standing quietly in the shadows near the tent. “Go and ask Prince Imrahil and his sons if they would join us.”

“Yes, my lord King,” Hinluin hurried off into the night and Faramir sat back down.

“Aragorn, I’ve been wondering why you are changing your name.” Thomas gave him a puzzled look. “Do all kings do that?”

“No,” Aragorn gave him a wry smile. “I just seem destined to have many names in my lifetime,” Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas laughed quietly. “A prophecy at my birth said I would be called Elessar, which means ‘elfstone’, by my people and refers to this,” he touched the glimmering green jeweled brooch on his tunic. “And in the Houses of Healing, the healers did indeed call me that. But that is not the only change,” he continued quietly. “I am naming my house Telcontar, which in the common tongue means Strider,” he glanced at the hobbits and smiled.

“Strider!” Sam exclaimed, “That will be part of your official name as king?”

“In elvish form, yes,” and Sam shook his head, muttering under his breath. Movement at the edge of the camp caught Aragorn’s eye and as Éomer and Éowyn entered the clearing he swiftly glanced at Faramir. His steward seemed to pale slightly and then set his jaw before standing and looking at him. Faramir seemed slightly startled to find Aragorn’s eyes on him, though he quickly recovered.

“Pardon me, my Lord King, but I would speak with Lady Éowyn and Éomer King for a moment.”

“Of course, my lord.” Aragorn glanced at Rebecca to see her eyes moving back and forth between Faramir and Merry and her eyes were once again twinkling with amusement. Curiosity getting the best of him, Aragorn scooted his stool closer to her as conversation continued around them. He leaned down and spoke quietly, “What amuses you and Merry so much, Rebecca?”

“Why, Faramir, of course,” her eyes losing none of their sparkle. At his steady regard, she sighed and explained. “Merry and I could tell how much Faramir loved Éowyn before we left Minas Tirith. Evidently she now feels the same way based on how nervous he is about meeting her brother. Though I don’t know how she can so quickly switch her feelings from one man to…” Rebecca’s voice trailed off at Aragorn’s sharp indrawn breath.

“You know how she felt towards me?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes watching her carefully.

“Yes,” she replied simply, giving him a puzzled look.

“Did Éowyn tell you this?”

Rebecca nodded, “We talked about it in Dunharrow the night I shared her tent. I-I knew you were upset…,” Aragorn frowned. “… and she said some things and… I just asked her.”

Aragorn gave her a searching look for a moment, “Yet you never said anything.”

“It wasn’t my place to say anything and it was obvious you didn’t feel the same way. We didn’t have a lot of time for talking after that if you’ll remember.” He nodded absently, his browed furrowed. “Aragorn, what’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”

Aragorn took her hand and smiled gently, “No, Rebecca you did nothing wrong. Does Merry know how Éowyn felt towards me?”

“If he does, he didn’t hear it from me, I’ve never said anything to anyone.”

“Good,” Aragorn smiled with relief. “The reason I did not want others to know was to protect Éowyn’s reputation. If people, especially people of the nobility, heard that I had rejected her it might cause them to wonder if there was something wrong with her and I did not want that to happen. I do not always understand the ways of the nobility, but people get hurt by them nonetheless.”

“Oh,” Rebecca shook her head as she mumbled, “So very strange. I’m glad I didn’t say anything then.” She glanced at Éowyn, Faramir, and Éomer, “I think they’ll make an interesting couple, they are so different. Now, we just have to find someone for you and Éomer,” she smiled at Aragorn.

Aragorn coughed and dropped his gaze to the ground, “Yes, yes we will,” he murmured. He was saved from speaking further by the return of Hinluin who moved quickly to his side and spoke quietly.

“My lord, Prince Imrahil and his sons have gone up into the city. He received word that his wife, daughter and younger son have arrived.”

“Thank you,” Aragorn replied as Hinluin retreated back into the shadows. He turned back to Rebecca. “She is someone you will need to meet,” he commented.

“Who?”

“Prince Imrahil’s daughter, Lothíriel, she is near to your age, I think, maybe Éowyn’s age. But will be around the court here, whereas Éowyn will return home to Edoras.”

“Her brothers, Elphir and Erchirion have mentioned her several times. I like them, so I hope that she and I might become friends, though she doesn’t live here either does she?”

Aragorn shook his head, “No, in Dol Amroth, but Prince Imrahil spends a lot of time here and I imagine she will as well.”

Rebecca glanced over at Faramir, Éowyn, and Éomer, “Well, based on what I can see from here, I think that Éowyn will be spending time here in Minas Tirith.” She smiled at Aragorn and he returned his gaze to the three in time to see Éomer clasp Faramir’s hand tightly as a smile lit up Éowyn’s face.

“You may be right,” he agreed as he turned to survey the rest of his companions to find them all still deep in conversation with one another, though he noted Merry appeared less than attentive to what Pippin and Sam were saying as he saw his eyes stray to Faramir and the others. Aragorn saw with sorrow that while Frodo appeared to be listening to Sam and his cousins, the hobbit appeared to be lost in thought and he wondered if he would ever truly recover from his ordeal.

Éomer strode up to the fire and Faramir followed more slowly, leading Éowyn by the hand, a look of uncertainty on his face and a smile on hers. “Forgive me, my Lord Aragorn, my lady Rebecca, my lords.” Éomer bowed in Aragorn’s direction and Aragorn inclined his head with a faint smile and amused eyes as his gaze drifted to Faramir and he saw his steward beginning to pale at what his future brother-in-law was doing. Rebecca started to laugh quietly and Aragorn glanced at her to see her biting her lip to stop herself as Éomer continued speaking. “While we have been off at war, it appears my sister has fallen in love with a man of Gondor.” Smiles and grins broke out around the circle and whispers could be heard among the hobbits. Éomer reached back and took Éowyn’s hand and pulled her and Faramir forward. “Tonight, the Steward of Gondor has asked for my approval on their betrothal and I have given my consent.” Éomer smiled broadly and then leaned down and kissed his sister on her brow before clapping Faramir on his shoulder. Cries of congratulations broke out from around the fire.

Aragorn stood and crossed to Faramir, “Congratulations, Faramir,” he said quietly. “May you be blessed,” he smiled at his steward.

“Thank you, my lord,” Faramir glanced at Éowyn who was talking with Rebecca and Merry, “I know that I shall be.”

“How wonderful for you, Faramir!” Pippin’s eager voice sounded next to the two men and they both looked down at him and smiled.

“Thank you, Pippin, it is wonderful indeed.”

Aragorn left the two of them talking and moved to speak with Éomer and Éowyn knowing he needed to do so, though he did not particularly relish the thought of speaking with Éowyn, even under these circumstances. But, to his relief, a shadow seemed to have lifted from her and she greeted him warmly.

“My Lord King,” she bowed slightly, “It is good to see you once again.”

“And you as well, Lady Éowyn.” He smiled, “I wish you joy on your betrothal to Lord Faramir.”

“Thank you, my lord, he is a wonderful man,” she smiled as she glanced over at Faramir.

“It’ll be wonderful to have you living in Minas Tirith,” Rebecca spoke up with a grin.

Éowyn’s expression fell a bit, “It will be difficult for me, Rebecca, I am not used to walled cities. But, this is Faramir’s home and I shall adjust and knowing that you will be here will be a help for me,” she smiled.

“You will be missed in Edoras,” Éomer commented. “Yet it will be good to have our kingdoms bound even closer together,” his lips twitched with amusement as he looked at Aragorn.

“I am not marrying Faramir for political reasons, Éomer,” Éowyn hissed, glaring at her brother. “You can marry someone from Gondor for that reason if you want, but I am marrying for love.”

Aragorn saw a brief flicker of pain in Éomer’s eyes before he responded to his sister. “I was merely jesting, Éowyn. And while you may not have intended to marry Faramir for political reasons; there is no doubt that the marriage of the Steward of Gondor to the sister of the King of Rohan binds our kingdoms closer together.” He glanced at Aragorn and smiled, “Not that we can be much closer.” Aragorn nodded in agreement as Faramir joined them, noting absently that Thomas had also quietly joined them and now stood alongside Rebecca, holding her hand.

“When will you get married?” Rebecca asked.

Faramir and Éowyn glanced at each other and finally Faramir answered her. “It will be at least a year and a half, Lady Rebecca. We will not announce this officially to the people of Rohan until after Théoden King is buried.”

“Oh,” Rebecca grimaced as she looked at Éowyn, “So you won’t be living here in the city for a long time,” she sighed.

“We will be leaving in a few days,” Éomer informed her. “My men have been gone from their families and our land long enough and we only linger now to see Aragorn officially crowned.”

Rebecca nodded and stared at the ground, biting her lip.

“Come then, sit and enjoy this evening with us,” Aragorn invited, motioning towards the fire. They did so, sharing stories and laughing together until late into the night.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca stood between Thomas and Merry watching Gandalf place the crown on Aragorn’s head… no, Elessar’s head. She was starting to separate the two of them in her mind. Kind, loving, often smiling, sometimes stern, fatherly Aragorn, from the lordly, remote, often stern King Elessar; not that he wasn’t both, but he just seemed so different when he was Elessar. She realized it was Elessar who was the warrior part of him and Aragorn was the healer side. She focused her attention back on Elessar as he began speaking in elvish.

“Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.” **

Rebecca didn’t understand most of the words and she glanced up at Thomas and shrugged slightly at his questioning gaze before turning back to the ceremony. The crown Elessar now wore was white and had wings similar to the ones on the Citadel Guard’s helms, though these were made of pearl and silver. There were seven diamonds around the circlet and a single large diamond in the front that sparkled in the rays of the morning sun. She was glad she was Aragorn’s ward and standing in the front or she would never have been able to see. Thousands of people lined the walls of the city above them. Some well-dressed citizens pressed in around them, but mostly there were soldiers surrounding them. Suddenly horns, drums, and stringed instruments sounded and Thomas grabbed her hand and pointed up to the White Tower where the white banner of the Steward was being lowered and Elessar’s black banner was being raised. As they had been instructed to do, she and Thomas joined Faramir for the walk up to the Citadel. A group of rangers walked well ahead of King Elessar who walked alone, after a space he was followed by Frodo and Gandalf and then Faramir, Rebecca, and Thomas. Following them walked Prince Imrahil and his family, then Éomer and Éowyn, Elladan, Elrohir and the rest of the members of the Fellowship. The rest of the ranger honor guard trailed behind them and they were followed by many men and women of the nobility.

The cheering of the crowds was overwhelming as they passed through the streets and people threw flowers and soon Rebecca couldn’t even see the stones of the street so thickly were they carpeted with petals. “Talk about being in a parade,” she said, leaning over to Thomas and speaking directly into his ear. He nodded, looking around wide-eyed at the people that lined both sides of the streets and on the walls above them.

“I had no idea how many people lived here,” he commented.

It was a long walk up to the Citadel and the crowds thinned out by the fifth circle and on the sixth, only people from the Houses of Healing and from the large houses stood there to greet their new king. Thomas and Rebecca heaved sighs of relief as they passed the guards and entered the tunnel and ramp leading up to the Citadel. Thomas looked around curiously at the buildings that Rebecca had described to him in detail and his attention was drawn to the White Tower where the King was now leading them. They entered in and Thomas glanced briefly at the statues Rebecca had mentioned, but he mostly focused his attention on Elessar as he had come to call Aragorn whenever he wore the look he had on his face now. The rangers drifted to the sides of the large throne room, but everyone else followed after the king as he slowly made his way up to the dais. He stopped at the bottom step and everyone else stopped a short distance behind him, silently filling in the throne room. King Elessar bowed his head briefly and then straightened up and marched slowly, yet purposefully up the steps to his throne, pulling Andúril and laying it across his knees as he sat down.

King Elessar’s piercing grey eyes swept over the crowded throne room, his expression remote as he studied those in the room. Rebecca and Thomas glanced at each other from the corner of their eyes, though neither of them moved their heads. They knew what was supposed to happen and both were already nervous, but seeing him like this was not helping. They both started at the sound of Elessar’s stern, quiet voice that nevertheless carried easily throughout the room. “I bid you welcome to the court of King Elessar, Aragorn son of Arathorn, of the House of Telcontar. I especially want to welcome Éomer, King of Rohan and his sister, Éowyn and bid them sit in these chairs that have been provided for them.” He gestured to two chairs that had been set just to the right of the Steward’s chair. With a small bow, Éomer led Éowyn to the chairs and they sat down as Elessar continued. “Today is a day of rejoicing for the suffering of our people goes back for many generations. Our freedom has been restored by the grace of the Valar and by the sacrifices of many people across the lands of Gondor, Rohan, Arnor, and Rhovanion*. But it was not just men that have suffered and died through these dark years, there have been many dwarves and elves as well. The final victory, however belongs to two Pheriannath, or hobbits, who took the dark lord’s Ring to Mt. Doom and saw it destroyed. Our people must never forget that this victory was not accomplished by one man or a group of men, but by different races working together to destroy evil.” Murmurs and whispers could be heard behind Thomas and Rebecca and they glanced over to see Frodo and Sam blushing and staring at the floor.

Elessar held up his hand and the room fell silent. “As today is a day of rejoicing, I will only be conducting a few official matters this morning that cannot be put off. Over the next few days, there will be gatherings to reward men of particular valor, for judgments, and for vows of loyalty to be sworn to me. However, I have asked the members of Lord Denethor’s Council and those of the nobility to be here this morning to be witnesses for vows that could not wait.” He stood, sheathing his sword and walked down the steps, coming to a halt on the wide step that held the Steward’s chair, which was the second step above the floor.

Faramir quickly joined him and knelt, offering his sword. Elessar held it gingerly, extending the hilt back to Faramir which he held as he said his oath of loyalty to his king. “Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor and to the King Elessar, to speak and to be silent, to do and to let be, to come and to go, in need or plenty, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my King release me, or death take me or the world end. So say I, Faramir son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor.”

“And this do I hear, King Elessar Telcontar, and I will not forget it, nor fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love, valor with honor, oath-breaking with vengeance.” Elessar drew Faramir to his feet and returned his sword which the Steward sheathed before bowing deeply. Elessar embraced him and quiet words were exchanged between the two men before Faramir sat in his chair next to Éowyn. Elessar turned back to the room as Imrahil and his three sons strode forward and took their oaths. As his youngest son, Amrothos, was finishing, Rebecca started fidgeting, nervously smoothing down her dress. Thomas grabbed her hand and gave it a quick reassuring squeeze and a smile before releasing her. They looked at Elessar as he spoke once again. “The last thing I need to do is to introduce my two wards.” He beckoned them forward and Rebecca kept her eyes fixed on his so she wouldn’t hang her head. She heard murmurs and whispers once again, but Elessar smiled faintly as they approached. Standing between him and Thomas, she kept her eyes on the people she knew in the front row as Elessar explained. “This is Rebecca, daughter of Norton and Thomas son of Morgan. They have been in my keeping for some time as each of them lost their parents in tragic circumstances and I took them into my household for safekeeping.” With that, he turned and nodded at Faramir who rose and walked to the front of the dais.

“That ends this audience, lords and ladies. Go now and rejoice in the return of our king,” Faramir announced as he dismissed the people.

“Come,” Elessar said to Rebecca and Thomas, striding briskly off the back of the dais and into the hallway where he halted and looked down at them with concern in his eyes. “How do you fare?” he asked quietly.

Rebecca took a deep breath, “I’m just glad it’s over, Aragorn. We don’t have to do that very often do we?”

“No, though of course you will always sit at the high table at feasts and celebrations. You will be seated further down from me though and not the center of attention, as usually there will be guests in attendance. Thomas?” Aragorn looked at him questioningly.

“I’m all right, it was just strange.”

“It was for me as well,” Aragorn laughed, leaning against the wall. The sound of voices caused him to straighten up, though he relaxed again as Elladan, Elrohir, Éomer, Éowyn, Halbarad, and Faramir entered the hallway.

“Are you ready to see your new home, my Lord King?” Faramir asked as he approached. With a nod, Aragorn followed behind his steward, walking between Elrohir and Halbarad. Leaving the tower, the group approached the large, imposing King’s House that stood at the back of the Citadel with Mount Mindolluin towering behind it.

Faramir stopped in front of the middle entrance, “This is the door to the guest quarters, where chambers have been prepared for Éomer King and Lady Éowyn. She,” he indicated a maiden in the dark grey dress of a citadel servant, “will escort you to your rooms while I take my Lord Elessar to the royal apartments.” Faramir led the rest of the party down to the farthest entryway where, beside the guardsmen on sentry duty, a small group of men and women were standing also wearing the dark grey livery that indicated they were servants of the citadel.

Rebecca saw Lothrín there, she had been so glad that Aragorn had arranged for Lothrín to be her maid, the older woman was a comfort to her and she knew that having her here would help, especially when Éowyn returned to Rohan.

Faramir beckoned to two people and they came forward. “My Lord King, this is Master Belegion, the chamberlain for the King’s House, and who has been for many, many years. This is Mistress Nimrie, the head housekeeper for the royal apartments, and the rest of the members of her staff,” Faramir indicated the men and women who bowed or curtseyed as appropriate.

Aragorn looked closely at Belegion who oversaw the running of the whole building, from kitchens, to laundries, to maidservants, to menservants, to gardeners, this one man was responsible for it all and now, in addition to the care of the Steward, he had a King and his household to look after. The chamberlain bowed deeply, “My Lord King Elessar, welcome.”

“Thank you, Master Belegion,” Aragorn replied. “Did you select Mistress Nimrie and her staff?”

“I did, my lord. Mistress Nimrie has worked in the King’s House for fifteen years, and most of the rest of the servants have served here for at least ten. They are all well qualified,” Belegion hesitated, “except for one, but I believe she is here at your request.” There was a slight question in his voice.

“Yes, Mistress Lothrín is here at my request,” Aragorn replied in a pleasant voice though there was a stern look in his eye as he gazed at his chamberlain. “She is to be the personal maid for Lady Rebecca.” He turned his gaze to the servants waiting on the steps, “It is good to see you once again, Mistress Lothrín,” deciding to speak with her knowing that if Belegion was making this kind of comment that she was probably hearing things from the other servants as well and that a single word from him would enhance her status. Though, Aragorn knew perfectly well that she was able to take care of herself, even in the sometimes petty world of servants. “My lord,” she replied, giving him a knowing look and Aragorn smiled.

“Forgive me, my Lord King,” Belegion hastily said, “I meant no disrespect.”

“I am sure you did not, Master Belegion. Now, these are my wards, Lady Rebecca and Lord Thomas, my brothers, lords Elladan and Elrohir and my cousin, Lord Halbarad.”

“Welcome,” Belegion bowed and Nimrie curtseyed.

Aragorn turned his attention to Nimrie and smiled down at her and sought to put her at her ease, “I am sure that Master Belegion selected the appropriate person for this position, Mistress Nimrie and that you will serve me and my household well. If you will show us to our chambers we would be most grateful.”

“Yes, my Lord King,” she replied turning and leading them into the building and turning to the left. “Your chamber is on the main floor and is quite large, my lord,” she explained as she led them down a wide, well-lit hallway, with white marble floors and walls hung with tapestries that had pictures of past kings and historic events. “I wasn’t sure how you would like your wards and guests housed, but after talking with Lord Faramir, I have placed Lady Rebecca in a chamber on this floor and Lord Thomas, Lord Halbarad and your brothers on the second floor. They can be moved, if that doesn’t meet with your approval, there are two other chambers on this floor and one other chamber upstairs where Lady Rebecca could be housed,” Nimrie peered up at Aragorn anxiously.

“That will be fine, Mistress,” Aragorn replied. “I am sure that everyone will be pleased with the chambers you have selected for them.” He cast a sidelong look at Thomas, but he was studying the pictures on the tapestries they were walking past.

“Here is your chamber, my Lord King,” Nimrie indicated a wide doorway with a citadel guardsmen posted in front of it, who immediately opened the door for the party to pass inside. They entered into the large sitting room. The floor here was a dark wood and had deep green carpets laid over it in various places around the room, the walls were a light beige color. Across from the entryway, there were large windows and a door led out into a large, well-kept flower garden, to the left was a door to the bedchamber and a large stone fireplace. To the right, along the wall were several cabinets and bookcases. In front of the fireplace were several comfortable looking chairs, a couch and small tables. Another arrangement of chairs and tables was just to the right of the door that led to the garden. Colorful tapestries depicting woodland scenes lined the walls and a few small statues and crystal pieces were placed on various tables and the room had a warm, welcoming feeling. Aragorn nodded with satisfaction at his first impression as he crossed to the windows and looked out into the large garden, knowing Arwen would be pleased by it. He turned and smiled at Nimrie before walking into the bedchamber.

Aragorn frowned as he walked into the room. It was too dark. The flooring was the same as the sitting room, which was fine, but the walls were a much darker color and there was only one window. The bed was enormous and made from a dark wood, with a canopy and he grimaced inwardly, though he liked the light green bed covering that had embroidered trees around the edges. As he glanced around he noticed all of the furniture in the room was made of the same dark wood and he knew he could not stay in a room like this. Making no comment, he looked into the bathing room and found it more than satisfactory. Sighing inwardly, Aragorn returned to the bedchamber to see that only Nimrie, Belegion, and Faramir remained in the room. “The sitting room is wonderful, Mistress Nimrie,” Aragorn smiled. “However I find that I shall require some changes to my bedchamber.” He saw Nimrie’s face pale and Belegion stiffen. “Be at peace, Mistress Nimrie,” he said quietly. “It is the dark colors in here that are not to my liking, I was raised among elves and have slept long years out of doors and the lack of light and color in here would quickly wear at my spirit.” She nodded uncertainly as Belegion asked,

“What would you like to have done, my Lord King?”

“I am sure that there is other furniture around that is lighter in color, I would like the walls lighter as well. What is in the sitting room is fine and perhaps some of those bright tapestries as well. I do like this bed covering. Oh, and whatever bed you find, I do not want it to have a canopy like this. If it is possible, I would also like more windows and a door into the garden.” Aragorn thought for a moment and then nodded, “I think that is all that I require at this time.”

“I know we have the furniture available in storage, my Lord King,” Belegion said, “but the other changes will take time, several days at least.”

Nimrie looked stricken, “Forgive me, my lord for not thinking of these things.”

“Mistress Nimrie, you have never even met me, I do not expect you to know all of my needs or what I like and dislike.” He smiled, “I will allow you a day or two before I expect you to know those things.”

She gave him a tentative smile, “Yes, my lord. But where would you like to sleep while we do this work? As I mentioned, I have several other chambers available.”

Aragorn shrugged, “I will stay with one of my brothers or Halbarad so you do not have to set up another chamber for me.” He ignored both her and Belegion’s horrified looks and walked back into the sitting room saying, “Lead us to Lady Rebecca’s chambers please.” He motioned for her to precede him and waited for the others to follow the housekeeper out the door and back down the hallway and around the corner to the left. Maldathor was standing guard in front of a door and quickly opened it.

“Aragorn,” Elladan looked back at him and threw a quick apologetic glance at Rebecca. “As much as I would enjoy seeing all of the various rooms in your new home, I would prefer to be shown to my own chambers now and then come and look at these at another time.”

Glancing at Elrohir and Halbarad and seeing agreement in their eyes, Aragorn turned to Nimrie. “Mistress Nimrie, please have someone show lords Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbarad to their chambers while we continue,” he directed and after they left they proceeded into Rebecca’s room.

Rebecca stopped as she walked inside what would be her own sitting room. It was much smaller than Aragorn’s, but still larger than the combined living room and dining room in her house back home. The floor was the same dark wood as in Aragorn’s, but the carpets were a soft blue color that blended with the very faint blue color on the walls. The tapestries in this room were softer and showed scenes of the sea and were soothing to Rebecca as she looked at them. There were windows and a door to the garden on the right of the entryway and the fireplace and the door to the bedchamber directly across from the entryway. As in Aragorn’s sitting room there were chairs, couches, cabinets, tables, and bookcases in the room. Rebecca slowly walked around, randomly touching some of the statues and looking in the cabinets and sliding her fingers along the books, wondering what stories they contained. She looked at Aragorn and smiled. “Do you like it?” he asked quietly. She nodded, glancing at Thomas who was looking around the room and who smiled when he caught her eye.

“The bedchamber is in here, Lady Rebecca,” Nimrie said. “We didn’t know for sure your taste in things…,” Aragorn suppressed a grin, “…but for a young lady we picked things that we felt would be appropriate.”

Rebecca followed Nimrie into the bedchamber and her jaw fell open in disbelief as she looked at what the servants had prepared for her. The floors and walls were the same as the sitting room, but tapestries here were of flowers, except for one that looked suspiciously like Lothlórien, with gold and silver trees, and she glanced at Faramir, but he was studying a vase full of roses on a small table. There were several windows looking into the garden and a chair and small table, with an oil lamp, book, and more flowers placed upon it, were set near the window. The bed had intricate carvings on the light-colored head board and the four posts that led up to the soft white canopy. The bed coverings were of a slightly darker blue than the carpets and had flowers embroidered all over it. “It’s wonderful,” she said glancing between Nimrie, Belegion, Faramir, and Aragorn. “Thank you very much, Mistress Nimrie.” She knew Faramir had had a lot to do with this, but she decided to thank him privately.

Nimrie curtseyed, “I’m glad you like it, my lady.” She smiled and then looked at Aragorn, “Would you like to see the other rooms on this floor before I show Lord Thomas his chambers?”

“That would be fine,” he nodded, gesturing once again for her to lead the way.

Down the hall to the left of Rebecca’s room and also opening out to the garden was a large library and study. There were fireplaces at each end and bookcases lined each wall. Tables, chairs, and couches were placed around the room.

“This room was, of course, empty, my lord,” Faramir said gazing at Aragorn. “I asked that books be taken from the main library that I felt might be of interest, books of history, of languages, tales of Gondor and Arnor, things of that nature.”

Aragorn nodded with approval as he glanced around the room. “That was well thought of, Lord Faramir, I am sure this room will be well used.” He gazed at Thomas and Rebecca, “At least by some of us,” he added, as Rebecca was already pulling a book off the shelf and rifling through the pages. “Come, Rebecca,” Aragorn called with a smile as they headed back out into the hallway. She gave him a sheepish grin and followed along. Across the hall were two spare chambers which had large windows looking out across the Pelennor to the north. The last room on this floor was the large dining room where members of the king’s household and any guests he might have would eat their meals. There were actually two tables here, a round one that had room for ten people and was even now being prepared for lunch; and at the other end of the room, a long rectangular table that could easily seat thirty people. Again, windows looked out north and here the floors were not carpeted, but were highly polished. The walls were painted with muted murals of gardens, forests and the sea. Thomas walked around the room gazing at the murals and then stood looking closely at a forest scene.

“Do you paint, Thomas?” Aragorn asked quietly from right behind him.

Thomas jumped, startled. “Do you still have to do that?” he asked sounding irritated, though he had a small smile on his lips.

“You still need to pay attention to your surroundings,” Aragorn grinned. “But, I ask again, do you paint?”

Thomas shook his head, “No, but these are so lifelike and…” he shrugged looking around the room.

“Perhaps you should try it,” Aragorn suggested as they walked from the room and headed up the stairs.

“Me?” Thomas looked as startled as he had a moment ago. “I don’t think I could do that.”

Aragorn shrugged, “It is something you can try if you would like to, Thomas. Or, I remember in Lothlórien you appeared to be interested in pottery perhaps you would enjoy that.”

“Don’t I need to be learning a job or something?”

Aragorn looked at him with amusement. “All of your needs will be provided for and so while there are things you do need to learn, there is no reason that you cannot do some things just for your own pleasure and enjoyment.”

“Rebecca and I have been wondering what we would be doing,” Thomas admitted.

“In a few days, when things settle down a little, I thought the three of us could talk about those things,” Aragorn smiled. “I am sure you will find that there will be things for you to do, Thomas.”

“Good,” he sighed slightly and Aragorn clasped him briefly on the shoulder as they approached his room. One of the guards that had been assigned to guard him, Haloth or Sírdhim, he couldn’t tell which one with the helm he wore, opened the door as they approached.

The room was set up identical to Rebecca’s. The carpets here were deep, dark reds and the walls were a very light gold. The tapestries were pictures of battles and wars and Thomas turned away from them immediately. There was a door out to a wide balcony that overlooked the garden. In the bedchambers, the colors were the same and Thomas liked the bedcovering of red with embroidered stars and moons, but again the tapestries were of battles and he did not like them.

“Is this acceptable, Lord Thomas?” Belegion asked as they returned to the sitting room.

“Yes, except for,” he glanced at Aragorn who nodded for him to continue, “except for the tapestries. I would prefer something that does not show war, Master Belegion. I’ve seen enough of that in person. Pictures of forests or animals or the sea, anything like that would be fine.”

“Of course, my lord, those are easily changed. Is there anything else?”

“No, everything else is fine,” Thomas replied taking a last glance around as they left his chambers, shaking his head slightly at the thought of having this huge place to himself.

The rest of the second floor contained four more private chambers overlooking the garden, another large sitting room, and servant’s quarters, though those did not have entrances on to the main hallway. The tour complete, they walked back down to the dining room to join the others for lunch.

Rebecca saw Éowyn looking at her strangely as she walked into the dining room and she knew that Éomer had told her where she and Thomas were from. She swallowed nervously and crossed to the window where she was standing. “Éomer told you didn’t he?” she asked quietly after glancing around to make sure no servants could overhear. Éowyn just nodded, looking Rebecca up and down. “I’m the same person I was a few hours ago, Éowyn. I haven’t changed,” she said desperately. Rebecca so wanted a woman here that knew who she really was, someone she could talk with about so many things that she couldn’t share with Thomas or Aragorn.

“I know,” Éowyn sighed, turning and looking out the window. “It just seems impossible to me that… that it could be true. I am not sure that I believe it, that it is not some story that has been made up.”

“What? Why would anyone make up a story like that, Éowyn?” Rebecca looked at her in confusion. How could she not believe them when everyone else had?

Éowyn shrugged, glancing at her and then turned her gaze back out the window, “I know not, but how can there be other worlds… and then to just show up here like Éomer said…,” she shook her head.

“So,” Rebecca said slowly, “you think all of us, Thomas, Aragorn, Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, all four of the hobbits, Elladan, Elrohir, Halbarad, Faramir, and your brother are just, what? Making up a story? Lying to you, Éowyn?” Rebecca frowned. “I don’t know how many more honorable men you want to tell you it’s the truth before you believe them.”

Éowyn turned and stared at her for a long moment, her eyes narrowed and when she finally spoke her voice was so quiet that Rebecca could barely hear her. “No, of course they are not lying. It is just that for so long I-I could not trust some people… and it is hard sometimes to start trusting again. Forgive me.”

Rebecca nodded, “Yes, yes of course. I assume you are talking about Gríma?” Éowyn nodded. “I’m sorry, Éowyn and it would be hard to trust anyone after being around him,” she shuddered. “But you know these men aren’t like him.” Éowyn nodded again, although more slowly. “Well, I’m not like him,” Rebecca grinned. “I know it might be hard for you, but when we have time, will you at least listen to me and make up your own mind?”

“I do believe you, Rebecca. When you say it that way… it is foolish of me to think that so many good and honorable men and elves could be deceived in that way. And, yes I would like to hear of your… home, strange as it might be to me.”

“Good,” Rebecca sighed, “I have so wanted to talk to a woman that knows who I truly am, Éowyn. There are some things that I just can’t talk about to Thomas or Aragorn.”

“I imagine not,” Éowyn finally smiled, “I do understand what it is to be surrounded by men most of the time.”

Grinning, Rebecca led the way to the table for lunch.

0-0-0-0-0

Well, Rebecca thought as she and Thomas slowly walked into Merethrond behind Elessar, he might have been honest when he mentioned they wouldn’t be seated next to him at the high table, but that didn’t mean people wouldn’t stare at them when they walked in with the new king. Taking a deep breath as they started down the aisle that led to the table, Rebecca tightened her grip on Thomas’s arm and then glanced around the crowded room out of the corners of her eyes. Almost everyone was focused on Elessar and the people who were looking at her and Thomas were mostly young and had expressions of curiosity on their faces. She suddenly realized that just a few weeks ago she had been running and fighting for her life and now she was nervous to walk down an aisle because people were staring at her. Shaking her head slightly at how ridiculous she was being, she loosened her grip on Thomas and straightened up, smiling. Looking ahead at the high table on the raised dais that they were rapidly approaching, she realized that she knew everyone who was there, though she had not actually met Imrahil’s wife, Elphir’s wife, or Lothíriel. As they reached the table, Thomas squeezed her hand and, giving her a look of regret, walked to the other end of it, while she followed Elessar. For some unknown reason, they had been separated and Rebecca was seated between Pippin and Elrohir and Thomas was sitting between Legolas and Gimli. By the time they had found out where they were sitting it had been too late to do anything about it, but they had been assured it would not happen in the future.

0-0-0

Thomas gave a small sigh as Rebecca walked away and then he turned and went to his seat between Legolas and Gimli. Well, he hadn’t spent much time with them lately, he thought, though it was hardly the same thing.

“Missing her already?” Gimli’s gruff voice broke into his thoughts and Thomas could see a tiny spark of amusement in the dwarf’s eyes.

“Who?” Thomas asked, trying to look confused and failing miserably and he finally laughed quietly, well aware that they were in front of a large room full of people.

“I believe that Master Gimli is talking about a certain beautiful young lady that is seen quite often in your company,” Legolas said.

“Ah, that young lady,” Thomas shook his head, “yes, I do believe I know who you are talking about now.” He frowned as he glanced between his friends, “The master of protocol, whoever he is, decided to put us at opposite ends of the table and it was too late to fix it when we found out. Aragorn said it wouldn’t happen again,” he shrugged.

“I don’t know about you, Legolas, but I’m starting to feel offended that the lad doesn’t want to sit by you.”

“No, Master Dwarf,” Legolas gave him a serious look, “I am quite sure that it is you that he does not want to sit by.” Both elf and dwarf turned their gazes on Thomas.

“Actually, I would prefer not to sit by either of you, but I’ll suffer quietly for the sake of keeping peace at this first feast of King Elessar’s,” he gave a long suffering sigh and gazed out over the large hall where people were beginning to eat.

Gimli started to laugh quite loudly and Legolas just smiled and shook his head before turning to his meal.

0-0-0

Aragorn studied the hall full of people, picking out the few that he knew. The councilmen Faramir and Imrahil had pointed out to him, or the older men and women that he had known when he was here as Thorongil, though few of those remained. He idly wondered how many of them would recognize him. A smile tugged at his lips as he watched the people… his people celebrate their freedom and their new king. With a start he realized that the musicians were getting ready to play and it was time for the dancing to begin. Dancing was not his favorite thing to do, unless it was with Arwen, but as the King it was his responsibility to start the first dance. Another reason he needed his beloved at his side as soon as possible he thought. Aragorn considered the possibilities of which of the ladies to dance with, there was Éowyn, Imrahil’s wife, Elphir’s wife, Lothíriel, or Rebecca. Éowyn and Lothíriel he dismissed immediately, he did not want any rumors started about a possible relationship with either of those women. And as he really did not enjoy dancing with other people’s wives, he finally decided to at least ask Rebecca, though he knew she probably be extremely uncomfortable and he did not know if she even knew how to dance or if the dances in her world would be similar. In all likelihood he knew he would probably end up dancing with Imrahil’s wife, but he wanted to avoid it if he could. “Pardon me,” he said to Éomer and Imrahil as he rose to his feet and walked quickly down the table to where Rebecca was laughing quietly with Pippin while Elrohir was looking on with amusement. Aragorn crouched down between Rebecca and Elrohir’s chairs. “Rebecca,” he said very quietly, “will you dance the first dance with me?”

Rebecca just looked at him and then gazed out at the dance floor before looking back at him. “But I don’t know any of your dances, Aragorn. Besides, I’d probably trip and fall,” she grinned.

“Not if I were holding you.” He gave her a thoughtful look, “So you would do it if you knew the dance?” Aragorn was surprised at her willingness.

“It would not be my favorite thing to do, no, and personally I think you should dance with one of the pretty women here,” she smiled. “But, yes, I guess I would if I knew the dance.”

Aragorn glanced at Elrohir, [“There are some easy dances and I am sure she could do one of those since she obviously knows how to dance.”]

[“Why do you not just dance with someone else, muindor nín?”]

[“My heart is not here, Elrohir, it is in Imladris.”] The elf gave him a compassionate look and gazed at Rebecca thoughtfully who was starting to get a panicky look on her face, not understanding what they were saying, but nonetheless getting the gist of the conversation. Aragorn turned back to Rebecca, “There is a very simple dance and I am sure you would do well, you just have to trust me and follow my lead.”

Licking her lips nervously, Rebecca looked out at the dance floor once again and back at Aragorn. “Why won’t you dance with someone…” Realization hit her, “You already have someone, don’t you?” Aragorn nodded and Rebecca saw longing fill his eyes. “Who is… never mind. If I dance with you will you tell me about her?”

Aragorn’s eyes sparkled with amusement, “Yes, my lady, it seems like a fair exchange.” He glanced at Elrohir, [“This is probably not the time to tell her I was going to speak with her about Arwen soon.”] Elrohir laughed quietly as Aragorn turned and beckoned a page to him, giving him instructions to take to the musicians. As the boy hurried off, Aragorn stood and held his hand out to Rebecca to help her rise. She was trembling slightly and gave him a weak smile as they left the table.

“Will other people join us after we start dancing or do we have to dance the whole dance alone?”

“Others will join us.” Rebecca gave him a relieved smile. “I am amazed, Rebecca that you even considered this,” Aragorn commented as they approached the dance floor.

“I’m sort of amazed too, but when we walked in here I realized that I was being sort of foolish to be so nervous about these people when quite recently I was running and fighting for my life against men and orcs,” Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know, it just sort of helped me, if I could do that, this should be easier.”

Aragorn laughed quietly as he led her out onto the dance floor, “Indeed, it should be. Now, just follow my lead and look at me, not at your feet. Are you ready?” At her nod, Aragorn turned to the musicians and they started playing. Rebecca kept her eyes fixed on Aragorn’s and found that the dance was surprisingly simple and she was able to block out the fact that people were watching them. In a relatively short time, the floor was filled with other dancers and she relaxed and enjoyed the dance.

“I wonder if Thomas dances.” Rebecca said thoughtfully, trying to see him through the crowd of dancers surrounding them. Aragorn smiled slightly. “I doubt if he does,” she sighed, “he left school so early and I only went to a few dances myself.” Aragorn gave her a warning look as he glanced around. She sighed again as she nodded and he gently squeezed the hand he was holding.

0-0-0

Thomas watched Aragorn and Rebecca dance with a touch of jealousy. Not that he could dance himself, but still he would like to be out there holding her and moving her around like that. It amazed him to see her out there and he wondered how Aragorn had been able to talk her into it. He took another sip of his wine and sat back with a sigh.

“When are you going to marry her?”

Thomas looked up into Éomer’s amused eyes, wondering where Legolas and Gimli had disappeared to. He glanced around before he answered, something he was getting very tired of having to do. “Aragorn said we have to wait at least a year. I guess a betrothal time is at least that long. Rebecca’s young and he wants us to get settled here,” Thomas shrugged.

Éomer nodded, “Aragorn wants what is best for you and Rebecca. So, you have asked her to marry you and she has accepted?”

Thomas blinked his eyes several times and just stared at Éomer. “Well…no… I just assumed…”

Éomer laughed and slapped him on the back. “Thomas, you cannot ‘assume’ anything. You need to ask the fair maiden and get her guardians approval. The one year betrothal period will not start until you are actually betrothed.”

“Valar,” Thomas swore, blinking again at using that particular word. “I never thought of that, Éomer. What do they do here? Where I came from, we would usually take a girl to a fancy restaurant, a place to eat,” he explained at Éomer’s look of confusion, “or someplace special and ask them to marry us and then give them a ring. Is it the same here?”

“In Gondor, there is usually an exchange of silver betrothal rings and at the wedding you receive gold bands, but I am not aware of other customs. You should speak with Faramir, perhaps.”

Thomas nodded, “Maybe I could combine what they do here and what was done where I came from.”

“I would like to hear more of your home.”

“This is my home, Éomer, but I would gladly tell you about where I came from.” Éomer nodded and Thomas began to tell him about the place he grew up.

0-0-0-0-0

A knock on the door pulled Rebecca from sleep and she groaned, rolling over and burrowing back down into the softness of the bed. She froze for a moment wondering where she was and as awareness dawned tried to drift back to sleep. In Cormallen her old habit of wanting to sleep late returned and a glance out the window told her it was dawn. The feast had ended very late and as she had no real plans for the day, she ignored the second knock on the door. The door opened anyway and Lothrín walked in.

“It’s time for you to get up, Lady Rebecca,” she said quietly.

Rebecca rolled over and looked at her with a frown, “Why? It’s so early and I don’t have anything to do today. At least I don’t think so.”

Lothrín laughed softly, “You have breakfast at the first hour, my lady and you need to get ready for that.”

Rebecca translated the time in her head. The first hour meant an hour past dawn or about seven a.m. With a sigh, she got up and made her way into the bathing room where Lothrín had set out a pitcher of hot water for her use. When she was finished, she made her way back to the bedchamber to find Lothrín had opened one of the large wardrobes where a variety of gowns hung. She looked at them skeptically for a moment, they all appeared too fancy for everyday wear. “Is there nothing… simpler to wear?”

Lothrín gave her a look of sympathy, “No, these are the simple, everyday gowns for a young lady of your station to wear.”

“I suppose that none of these closets… wardrobes have leggings and tunics?”

Lothrín shook her head, “No, you only have the set you brought with you, which is being laundered.”

“I can’t wear dresses everyday! What will I wear when I want to practice archery or when I want to go riding?” she cried with frustration.

Lothrín patted her arm and spoke softly, “I know you are not used to this, Lady Rebecca and it will take you some time to adjust to your life here. I suggest you speak with,” Lothrín hesitated briefly, “your father about this.”

Rebecca threw her a startled glance and then slowly nodded, “I will.” She looked again at the gowns, choosing one and quickly getting dressed for the day ahead.

0-0-0

Thomas and Rebecca strolled across the courtyard heading for the ramp that led down to the lower circles of the city. It was a beautiful spring morning and they were going to visit the shops on the fourth circle before eating lunch with the Fellowship. Aragorn had given them freedom to wander as long as they had their guards and as long as they returned in time to prepare for the formal dinner Prince Imrahil was hosting that evening. Tomorrow they had to attend the audience Aragorn was holding, but today they just planned to explore the city. Aragorn had given each of them money and explained what each coin was worth, though signet rings were being made for them so that in the near future they would not have to carry money at all.

It suddenly occurred to Thomas that he actually had no idea when the shops opened and he stopped and looked back at his guard. “Are the shops even open at this time, Sírdhim?”

“Yes, my lord, most of them open at the third hour.”

“Thank you.” Thomas glanced up at the sun and guessed it must be somewhere around nine and so the shops should be open. “I wish I had a watch,” he whispered to Rebecca.

She smiled at him, “There are other things I’d rather have.”

“Like what?”

Rebecca furrowed her brow in thought for a long time and then laughed as she finally confessed, “You know I really can’t think of anything.”

“Nothing?” Rebecca shook her head and looked at him with a questioning expression. Thomas narrowed his eyes as they walked along, “Well, I’d like…,” he shook his head in defeat. “I guess there really isn’t anything.” He grinned, “Though I suppose a car would be fun.” She laughed, shaking her head.

They wandered down the side street where some shops seemed to be located and started looking in the windows to see what interested them. Most of the shops were things like bakeries and butcher shops and sold practical, everyday items. Rebecca smiled though when they came to a shop that sold books. “Can we go in here, Thomas?”

“Aren’t there enough books in the library?”

“It’s always just fun to look and besides those aren’t my books.”

Thomas just gestured towards the door, deciding not to point out that since they had been given the money by Aragorn, it wasn’t any different than the books in the library – it was all his. Though, he realized that wasn’t totally true, Aragorn had given them the money to buy whatever they wished and so it was now their own. It was going to take some getting used to, to just be able to spend money however he wanted to, without having to think about the future.

“May I help you find something, my lord, my lady?” the shopkeeper asked, looking from Thomas and Rebecca to Gílorn, who was standing just inside the door, while Sírdhim waited outside.

“No, thank you, I just want to look around,” Rebecca smiled at the man, who bowed. She wandered to a shelf and started browsing through the books, while Thomas looked at some of the other things sold in the shop. There were a few pictures on the walls and he glanced at those and then his gaze fell on a calendar and he tried to remember when Rebecca’s birthday was. He knew it was sometime around his, but whether it was before or after, he couldn’t remember. And, even if he could remember the actual date, he didn’t think it would match up with the calendar here. This one looked… odd. There were twelve months on it, but there seemed to be extra days stuck in here and there. Thomas decided to buy one and ask someone to help him and see if he could figure out the dates compared to earth and then try and remember Rebecca’s birthday. He picked up one of the calendars and walked over to see if Rebecca was finished.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly, trying not to startle her.

Rebecca smiled, “I could be here for hours, Thomas, but we can leave. I did find one book,” she looked at what he was holding. “A calendar?”

He nodded, “I didn’t see one around the…,” he paused, puzzled. “It’s not a house… do we call it the palace?” he whispered.

“It’s called the King’s House, so house works,” Rebecca shrugged. “Why are you buying a calendar?”

“I wanted to figure out when we… arrived and how this calendar works. It’s different than what we’re used to.” He showed it to her and she studied it for a moment.

“Each month has thirty days and then…,” she pointed to some days that didn’t seem to belong to a month. Rebecca frowned and then glanced at the shopkeeper who was watching them. “We can ask Gandalf or someone to help us,” she whispered.

“What’s your book about?”

“It’s poetry.”

“Oh, I never liked poetry very much.”

“It’s not for you,” Rebecca said, turning and walking to the counter. Thomas followed with a slight frown on his face. They fumbled with the strange money and left carrying their purchases in their hands wishing they had a bag of some type. Noticing people seemed to use baskets to carry things, they stopped and bought one at a small stand. They wandered in and out of several more shops before entering one that sold jewelry.

“May we be of assistance, my lord, my lady?” the shopkeeper asked with what Thomas thought was an annoyingly fake tone of voice, though the woman had a pleasant smile.

“No, thank you,” Thomas replied, nodding in dismissal and Rebecca almost giggled. He had unconsciously picked up so many of Aragorn’s mannerisms that it almost always made her want to laugh. Thomas gave her a suspicious look, “What?”

“Nothing,” she smiled and walked over to look at some necklaces. He scowled at her as she walked away bef


Chapter 29 - Arwen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Reader – J.

Author Notes: Calendars are discussed in this chapter and I know that calendars used in the Shire and in Gondor are different, but for simplicity’s sake I assumed they were the same. I also used the Quenya names for the months instead of Sindarin because in my research it seemed that Tolkien used either and I liked those names better. […] are used to indicate conversations in elvish and individual elvish words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 29 Arwen

Aragorn sat on the wall surrounding the balcony off of the sitting area on the second floor. It was dawn and he been there for several hours, his gaze fixed firmly to the northwest as he pondered two completely separate matters. Foremost on his heart was Arwen and the second was the northern part of his kingdom, Arnor. Thoughts of Arwen had awoken him and Aragorn had come to the balcony seeking fresh air so as not to disturb Elladan, whose chambers he still shared. He knew without question that Elrond would bring Arwen, it was only a matter of time until they arrived. But each day that passed without her by his side or in his arms seemed a waste of the precious days that Eru had gifted to them.

With a weary sigh, Aragorn deliberately turned his thoughts away from Arwen to curb his rising frustration and he considered instead what he should do with his northern kingdom. Though Arnor was not heavily populated, there were the Bree-lands, the Shire, his people in the Angle, and then scattered towns and villages across the land. Rebuilding a northern capitol would take time and yet the people there deserved a place they could go and seek help and justice without having to travel to Minas Tirith. His heart was in Arnor and he intended to spend time there, yet he knew it would be years before he could leave Gondor and travel north to his homeland.

Appointing a Steward for Arnor seemed to be the wisest solution, yet Aragorn was not sure who he would trust with that task. Halbarad was the most obvious choice as he had been his senior commander for years and he knew the lands and people, but he did not know if Halbarad would be willing to leave his side. Aragorn wanted his advice, his support on his council. While Halbarad knew little of Gondor’s needs or its politics, Aragorn knew he would learn quickly and an outsider’s voice was often welcome. Yet if he left, both Faramir and Imrahil would provide him the support on the council that he desired.

In truth, Aragorn wanted Halbarad here simply for friendships sake. Soon those he knew and loved best would be returning to their homes; Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Éomer, and the four hobbits. Elladan and Elrohir would remain for some time and would return to visit, but there was a chance he might never see some of the others again. Thomas would remain, of course, and though the relationship he had with him was quite different than what he shared with the others, it was still something he treasured. Though Aragorn knew he would always harbor a hint of fear that Thomas and Rebecca might one day disappear.

Though Aragorn was weary of having to make such personal sacrifices, he knew that he would do so once again if Halbarad were truly the best man for the Stewardship of Arnor. Just as he knew that Halbarad would take the position if he asked him to, duty and honor had been too much a part of their lives to change now. Aragorn thought about his other rangers, wondering if any of them might make a suitable Steward. He needed Captain Caladithil to maintain command of the rangers whether Halbarad stayed here or became Steward. Alvist was a possibility; Aragorn narrowed his eyes in thought as he considered the seasoned ranger. He was quiet, but well respected by the men and he had more than the average ranger’s schooling. Perhaps Alvist would do well as the Steward of his northern kingdom. Aragorn brightened at the thought, though he knew he needed to take the time to make sure it truly was the right decision for Arnor and would fulfill the needs of his people.

Movement at the edge of his vision made him turn his head and Aragorn smiled as Elladan joined him. [“Forgive me, Muindor nín, if I disturbed your rest this morning.”]

[“You did not,”] Elladan replied, his hands resting lightly on the wall, his piercing gaze studying his brother for a moment and then looking to the northwest. [“She is on her way, Estel.”]

Aragorn gave him a long look. [“How do you know, Elladan? Have you received some word that I have not?”]

[“Do you think Arwen would sit back and wait? You are not the only one who has been betrothed for forty years.”] A very faint glimmer of amusement lit the depths of his grey eyes.

Aragorn suddenly grinned, [“No, I imagine she was ready to leave immediately after they received word of Sauron’s downfall. I am sure that Adar has had a difficult time restraining her from rushing ahead, she can be as headstrong as you or Elrohir at times.”]

[“And you are not?”]

[“Me? I may be a little… stubborn at times,”] Aragorn admitted, [“however, you three have thousands of years of experience and I doubt I will ever reach the level you three have attained.”] He laughed lightly as Elladan shook his head, though amusement once again lit his eyes.

[“Elrohir and I have decided to go to Lothlórien and meet Adar and Arwen and ride back here with them.”]

[“You do not want to wait here?”] Aragorn asked, giving his brother a puzzled look.

Elladan stared down at the courtyard below them for a moment and when he turned back to Aragorn, his eyes were full of sorrow. [“Our hearts bid us do this, Muindor nín. To enjoy time with Arwen before she marries and to be with Adar and our grandparents for the journey here, we have seldom had a chance to travel together.”]

[“I understand, Elladan. It will be good for all of you,”] Aragorn swallowed the lump in his throat and turned his gaze back to the horizon. He truly did know, it would be good for his family to be together one last time, but it just brought all of their shared pain to the surface. That it was inevitable did not make it any easier to bear. He looked up as Elladan’s hand gently touched his cheek.

[“Do not let sorrow overwhelm the great joy that is coming into your life, Estel. Each of us will cope with our own pain, you cannot bear that burden for us,”] he said quietly, his eyes now unreadable.

[“In my head I know that, but my heart refuses to accept it. My hope is that once I see Arwen, all thoughts of you will be driven from my mind,”] Aragorn gave his brother a half-hearted smile before abruptly changing the subject. He knew that this discussion had no real ending point, just as he knew that Elladan was right in what he had just said. [“When will you leave?”]

[“In the morning; we will ride to Edoras with Éomer and the Rohirrim and then we will ride on to Lothlórien from there.”]

Aragorn nodded and then glanced down into the courtyard as Rebecca walked into view carrying her bow, one of her guards trailing behind. He leaned forward on the wall, resting his arms on it as he observed her. She went to the small training area set aside for the use of those who lived in the King’s House, in fact, he and Thomas had sparred there several times already. Stopping some forty yards from the archery targets, Rebecca spoke to her guard and then strung her bow. Aragorn watch with a slight frown as she rubbed her upper left arm before she pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it.

[“I am surprised she still desires to do this,”] Elladan commented.

[“She started again a few days ago. I think she truly enjoys it and it gives her some freedom,”] Aragorn paused, his browed furrowed as he watched Rebecca’s first arrow strike the target in the lower left side. [“I believe she also feels a need to be able to protect herself. She mentioned wanting to start training with her sword again.”]

Elladan glanced at Aragorn and then down at Rebecca, [“She feels vulnerable,”]he murmured, his eyes full of compassion. [“Will you allow her to use her sword again?”]

[“Yes, though I am hoping this will satisfy her because I do not have the time to train her and I do not yet know the armsmasters well enough to entrust her to them.”]

[“Halbarad?”]

[“Perhaps,”] Aragorn nodded, his concern mounting as Rebecca rubbed her arm again as she went to collect her arrows, which were scattered all over the target.

[“And, Thomas, how does he fare?”]

Aragorn ran a hand through his hair and sighed, [“I am concerned about him, Elladan. Rebecca has shared her fears with me, but Thomas says nothing. Yet I sense a level of frustration within him, he is used to caring for his family and now there is nothing for which he is responsible. After breakfast I am going to speak with them about some of those things, yet I am not sure what he would truly enjoy doing.”] Aragorn shrugged, [“I am not sure he knows either. As my ward his choices are, in some ways, limited. He loves horses, yet he cannot work in the stables.”] Aragorn shook his head, [“For now he must apply himself to learning of our land and our history and perhaps he will discover something he enjoys.”]

[“He was helpful to you in Cormallen, could he assist you in the same way here?”]

Aragorn nodded, [“I had thought of that, though I have pages that do many of the things he did for me there, but he might enjoy doing other things and learning how the kingdom runs. He may someday be a councilor or an ambassador for me.”] He glanced down at Rebecca again and watched her shoot, an arrow actually striking close to the center. “Well shot, Rebecca,” he called down to her.

Rebecca looked up and grinned, “Thanks, it only took thirty arrows to get it right, it’s a good thing Haldir isn’t here to see me. I was wondering if you were going to talk to me or just watch me make a fool of myself.”

Aragorn smiled and shook his head, not really surprised she had seen or heard them, though they had been speaking quietly. “You are not making a fool of yourself,” he chided gently. “You were severely injured and it takes time to regain your aim and strength. In fact, I notice your arm is still causing you pain.”

“Occasionally,” she admitted, rubbing her arm lightly.

“Why have you not mentioned it?”

“I never think about it until I’m doing something like this,” she shrugged.

“Come inside and I will look at it,” Elladan commanded sternly.

“Yes, Lord Elladan,” Rebecca turned to retrieve her arrows and Aragorn could see her mumbling under her breath and he grinned at his brother.

[“Thank you, I will let you feel her displeasure this time.”]

[“I am sure it is only bruised and that if I sing over it and she ceases to use if for a day or two it will be fine,”] Elladan replied. [“She obviously did not follow your instructions,”] he said with disapproval clearly evident in his voice.

[“I am sure she will heed yours,”] Aragorn smiled. Elladan followed him into the building without another word.

0-0-0-0-0

Closing the door quietly, Thomas followed Aragorn and Rebecca into the library, joining Rebecca on the couch opposite the chair where Aragorn was sitting. He absentmindedly picked up Rebecca’s hand and began caressing it as Aragorn began speaking.

“Faramir has found a tutor for you and you will begin your studies the day after tomorrow.” Thomas watched Rebecca’s face light up and couldn’t help a small smile of his own which he saw matched the one on Aragorn’s face as they glanced at each other. “His name is Dolgaran and he has taught many students over the years, he is in his early thirties, I believe. Faramir has known him for years and believes we can trust him enough to tell him the truth about you.”

Thomas looked at Aragorn in surprise, “You will tell an… an outsider the truth?”

Aragorn smiled slightly at Thomas’s choice of words. “We really have no choice, there is no way to explain your lack of knowledge of Middle-earth. I will meet with him to satisfy myself that he is, in fact, trustworthy and then we will inform him.”

“What will he be teaching us?” Rebecca asked.

“Mostly the history of Middle-earth, especially that of Gondor and Arnor and I want you both to learn to speak Sindarin.”

Rebecca grinned again and Thomas paled slightly, “Speak elvish? Why?”

“It is a language that is spoken by many of the people in Gondor, Thomas, as well as all of my kin. All of the nobles speak it; it is something you need to know.” Aragorn paused and added with a very faint smile, “It is a very romantic language, Thomas.”

Aragorn turned to Rebecca, “What did you plan to do before you came here?”

“I wanted to be a writer though we had no money to send me to school.”

“And is that still your desire or do you wish to do something else, perhaps continue studying to become a healer?”

Rebecca furrowed her brow in thought, “Can I do both? I’d like to learn more about healing and I’m sure this Dolgaran can help me with writing.”

Aragorn nodded, “Then you will both study with Dolgaran from the third to the sixth hour and I will make arrangements for you, Rebecca, to spend some time in the Houses of Healing in the afternoons a few days a week. I want you to have some freedom to enjoy yourself as well.” He smiled and turned his gaze to Thomas who returned his regard steadily. “And did you have plans beyond working on a horse ranch? I know you were forced to do that by circumstance, but I do not truly know if your heart has other desires or interests.”

Thomas shrugged, “I-I probably would have been drafted when I turned eighteen. Everyone has to serve our country by being a soldier for two years,” he explained at Aragorn’s confused expression. “I guess I just did my time here serving your country… our country,” Thomas shook his head. “Anyway, I sort of hoped I’d learn some sort of skill that I could use to make a living after I left the service,” he looked away from Aragorn with a slight frown.

“You did not answer my question,” Aragorn reminded him softly. “I asked what you would desire to do, not what you would have to do to make a living.”

Thomas got to his feet and wandered to the window, leaning against the frame and staring into the garden. “I’ve never thought about it much, Aragorn. I left school so young to provide for my family and all I’ve thought about since then is making money, whether I liked the job or not really didn’t matter.”

Aragorn and Rebecca both spoke at the same time and Aragorn gestured for her to continue. “Thomas, what about when you were little? What did you want to do when you grew up?”

Looking at her with a hint of amusement in his eyes, Thomas replied slowly, “The usual things, a policeman, a fireman… a pilot. None of which I can do here.”

“And those kinds of jobs are?” Aragorn asked, giving him a questioning look.

“A policeman helps makes sure the laws are obeyed and they protect people, firemen put out fires, and pilots,” Thomas gave him a smile. “Well, pilots fly airplanes through the sky from one city to another.”

Aragorn stared at him for a moment and then glanced at Rebecca who nodded. “I shall take your word for it. The only job here that is similar would be… maybe a Citadel Guardsman and I do not believe you would enjoy that.”

Thomas shook his head. “Aragorn, I don’t think I could have done any of those jobs on earth either, perhaps the fireman and that was a childhood dream and those often change. I truly am not sure what I’d like to do here. I’m sorry,” he said, clearly frustrated.

“Do not be, Thomas,” Aragorn said dismissively. “Middle-earth is so different and the skills needed here are different. Would you like to be a soldier? A ranger?”

“No, I’ll keep up whatever skills I have in case you need me in the future, but I don’t want to do that full time, Aragorn.”

“I had thought to have you assist me and learn about running the kingdom, but I did not know if that would interest you as you seem to enjoy being outdoors.”

Thomas’s eyes lit up, “No, I think I’d like that, Aragorn. I liked helping you before and-and it made me feel useful.”

Smiling, Aragorn knew that that was the key, Thomas needed to feel useful and he also wanted to spend more time around him, though he would never admit it, not even to himself. “Good, then I will arrange that. Would you also like to try painting or pottery as we had talked about?” Thomas hesitated and Aragorn continued, “Perhaps just one day a week,” he suggested.

“I-I think painting might be fun,” Thomas finally said quietly.

“Would you like to try that?” Aragorn asked Rebecca. She looked at Thomas for a moment and then shook her head no. “Now, that we have those things settled, I have a council meeting to attend. Do you two have plans for the day?”

“We’re going to see if we can find Gandalf,” Rebecca replied, “and ask him some questions about this calendar that Thomas bought the other day. See if we can match it up with the one from earth.”

Aragorn stopped with his hand on the latch and looked at the calendar. “Is yours much different?” he asked curiously.

“No,” Thomas replied, “same number of days in the year, but each of our months can have a different number of days and the months have different names. We just want to see if we can figure out how long we’ve been here and some other things.”

“I am sure it will prove an interesting challenge, even for a wizard,” Aragorn commented as he led them down the hall and out the door to the courtyard. He left them to go into the Tower while Rebecca and Thomas continued to the ramp to head down to the sixth circle.

Pippin answered the door when Thomas knocked on it as they arrived at the guest house where the rest of the Fellowship was staying. “Rebecca! Thomas!” he cried, breaking into a grin, “You’re just in time for second breakfast,” he said as he ushered them into the sitting room.

Rebecca groaned, “No thanks, Pip, I just ate an hour ago.” Thomas just shook his head.

Gandalf, Gimli, and Legolas looked up and smiled in greeting. “You two are out early,” Gandalf commented as Rebecca sat down beside him on the couch. Thomas sat on a stool near Gimli.

“You’ve been hiding, Gandalf and we haven’t seen much of you,” Rebecca smiled at the wizard. “We knew we’d need to be here early before you snuck away.” Gandalf returned her smile and the others chuckled.

“Where are Frodo, Merry, and Sam?” Thomas asked.

“Merry’s in the kitchen,” Pippin replied, his cheerful face turning sober. “And Sam’s with Frodo, he had a bad night. I’m going to help Merry.” He quickly left the room and Rebecca and Thomas exchanged concerned glances.

“Does Frodo have nightmares?” Thomas asked.

“Yes, quite frequently,” Legolas replied softly.

“Pippin and Sam have them sometimes, but theirs are not so severe,” Gandalf added.

“But not Merry?” Thomas asked.

“Merry and I talked about our dreams in the Houses of Healing and it seemed to help,” Rebecca said quietly. “I seldom have them anymore.” She stared at the floor for a moment and then glanced at Thomas who was looking at her with concern. “I’m all right, Thomas. Haven’t you had nightmares about all this?”

Thomas shook his head, “No, not so far anyway. I’ve had nightmares before though, and I know how hard it is.” Thomas looked at Gandalf and asked, “Will Frodo’s stop?”

“I know not,” Gandalf’s eyes took on a distant look, “His pain and suffering are so great… Ah, Pippin and Merry have returned with their second breakfast.”

Merry glanced around the room suspiciously, but he said nothing as he sat on the floor near Rebecca. “Hello, Rebecca.”

“Good morning, Merry,” she looked at all the food on his plate. “Did you eat just as much at breakfast earlier?” she asked with amusement.

“”More,” he replied with a grin. “Why are you here this morning? Not that I’m not glad to see you,” he added hastily.

“Thomas bought a calendar and it’s different than the one from earth and we wanted to see if we could figure out when we arrived and sort of make it match up with ours.”

“Why?” Gimli asked from the corner where he had been quietly sitting. “I mean, why is it important to you? You live here now and the old calendar shouldn’t matter anymore.”

“I suppose it’s not really important,” Thomas said slowly, “but we… at least I wanted to try and figure out when our birthdays would be on this calendar.”

Gimli nodded, but Merry and Pippin eagerly spoke up. “You have to know when your birthdays are,” Pippin said.

“Are they anytime soon?” Merry asked, glancing up at Rebecca.

“Yes, I think within a couple of months, but I’m not sure because it’s been a little hard to keep track of the days and weeks we’ve been here,” she smiled at Merry and Pippin.

“Besides your own birthdays, there may be other special days you want to remember, or holidays to celebrate,” Legolas spoke up. “I think this is a good idea. You should not forget your past,” the elf shot a meaningful glance at Gimli.

“I didn’t think of those things,” the dwarf admitted. “Forgive me, Lady Rebecca, Thomas.” They both nodded and looked at Gandalf who had been listening, but had not said a word.

“Will you help us, Gandalf?” Thomas asked, “I wrote out a calendar from earth so I’m hoping it won’t be too difficult.”

“Yes, of course,” Gandalf shook himself as though from a daze and sat up on the couch. “Hand me the calendars.” He took both of them and spread them out on the table in front of him while the others gathered around.

“It looks like our calendar,” Pippin said, pointing to the twelve months on the one Thomas had made.

“It doesn’t have Mettarë or Yestarë, or any of the other holidays,” Merry pointed out.

“The months have different numbers of days as well,” Legolas observed. “Thirty, thirty-one, and this one only has twenty-eight.” He glanced at Thomas and Rebecca, “It is a strange way to keep track of a year.”

“No stranger than having these five days in between months,” Rebecca retorted.

“Peace,” Gandalf said mildly, still looking at the calendars. “This will all depend on when you arrived, they are, as Pippin noted, indeed very similar.”

“It was January 1, 1954,” Thomas pointed to the first day of the year.

Gandalf gave him a knowing look, “It was the first day of our year as well, Narvinyë 1.”

“Then they are the same!” Pippin and Rebecca said at the same time, giving each other a grin.

“It is interesting that they left their world on the same day of the year as they arrived here,” Legolas commented, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Gandalf, who did not reply to his unspoken question, but instead said,

“There is still the difference in the number of days per month to consider, though it will be close to the same.”

“What is today?” Thomas asked.

“Lótessë 7,” Gimli replied, pointing to the fifth month.

“How many days is that on your calendar?” Thomas mumbled to himself as he started to add them up.

“One hundred twenty-eight,” Legolas swiftly answered.

“I always knew you were good to have around,” Thomas commented without looking at the elf, while the others laughed. Thomas finally looked up and grinned, “What day would that be on our calendar?” Legolas pointed to May 8th with a small smile.

“It’s one day off,” Rebecca said with disappointment.

“It could have been worse,” Merry said, craning his head around and looking up at her. “One day isn’t too bad.” Rebecca nodded, but Thomas could see she was still disappointed.

“When’s your birthday, Rebecca? I forgot,” he confessed.

“June 29.”

Thomas looked back at the calendars and then grinned at Legolas. “You lose one more day and so Rebecca your birthday would be here,” Legolas pointed at one of the days between the months, Loëndë.

“Mid-summer is a good day for a birthday, Rebecca,” Pippin said. “There’s usually lots of food and in the Shire we have a faire.”

“What are you talking about?” Frodo’s tired voice came from the doorway and they all looked up to see him and Sam standing there.

“Calendars and birthdays,” Merry replied, sliding over on the floor so Frodo could sit next to Rebecca on the couch while Sam pulled up a stool.

“Hello, Frodo, Sam,” Rebecca said, looking at the two hobbits carefully. Frodo still looked so fragile and thin. It was hard not to take him in her arms and hug him or comfort him in some way. She had to remind herself that he was fifty years old, even if he looked much younger, except for his eyes. If you looked in his eyes, you could see he was fifty if not older – there was too much pain in the depths of his eyes for a much younger person. Sam just looked tired and worried, but at least he was starting to fill out now that he was eating regularly.

“Is this a calendar from your home?” Frodo asked, perking up slightly.

“Yes, and we’re trying to see how it matches with yours,” Thomas replied. “It’s pretty close. We’re figuring out birthdays right now.” Frodo nodded and peered closely at the calendar.

“Thomas, I think I’d rather keep my birthday on the same month and day. I don’t care if it’s not exactly the same time as where we’re from.”

“Me, too,” Thomas agreed. “So Nárië 21 for me and Nárië 29 for you.” He sat back with a sigh and a look of satisfaction. Though looking at the days he started to rethink his plan to ask Rebecca to marry him on her birthday, it was a long way off.

“What about other holidays,” Gimli reminded them.

“Oh, we’ll just keep them on the same month and day and it will be close enough,” Rebecca shrugged.

Thomas started to crumple up the calendar he had made when Frodo asked, “May I keep that, Thomas? I’d like to see it, I didn’t get to look at it very closely.”

“Sure,” Thomas handed it to the hobbit and Frodo leaned back on the couch and started looking at it while Thomas carefully rolled up the other calendar.

“Do you two have plans for the day?” Legolas asked.

“I don’t, just the farewell feast tonight for Éomer and Éowyn,” Rebecca replied and Thomas nodded in agreement.

“Stay with us then, some of us are going to go down to the lower circles later and eat lunch in an inn and visit some of the shops. You are welcome to accompany us,” Legolas invited.

Thomas and Rebecca eagerly accepted and the Fellowship, all except for one person, spent the day together laughing and talking.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn watched the tutor, Dolgaran, leave his office and then focused his attention on Faramir who was watching him with a hint of apprehension in his eyes. “I believe we can trust him, Faramir, however I am glad that he is not teaching me,” he smiled.

“Dolgaran is a wonderful teacher,” Faramir protested. “Though I have never seen him so nervous, my lord,” he gave Aragorn a pointed look and the king laughed lightly.

“He did seem rather nervous. Well, I trust your judgment, I just hope that he can keep Thomas interested.”

“He will,” Faramir replied shortly.

Aragorn nodded and turned to other matters, picking up some parchment on his desk. “Did you read this proposed treaty agreement sent from Umbar?”

Faramir nodded with a slight scowl.

“And this one from Harad?” Aragorn held up more parchment and again Faramir nodded.

“Do they realize they lost the war?”

Faramir kept quiet, evidently recognizing it was a rhetorical question.

“Perhaps we need to discuss this in person,” Aragorn said thoughtfully.

“You are not planning on going to Harad or Umbar?” Faramir asked with horror.

“Of course not, not without an army at my back anyway,” he sighed. “And I have no intention of doing that anytime soon. I was thinking to invite their leaders to visit us here.”

“Will they come, do you think?”

“I know not. But when we send our invitation we will remind them just who won the war and I think that will encourage them,” Aragorn gave his Steward a very grim smile.

Faramir nodded, “I will see that these letters of invitation are prepared for your approval today.”

“Thank you.” Aragorn paused briefly, “I noticed as we rode back in this morning that some of the homes have been rebuilt on the Pelennor. Have many of the crops been sown?”

“Some, my lord, mostly out near the Rammas Echor where the damage was not as severe. But many of the hamlets and homes are being rebuilt here and there.” Faramir smiled, “It is good to see.”

Aragorn nodded, “I imagine it will take several years for the soil to recover,” he commented shaking his head before changing the subject. “And how do you fare, my Lord Prince Steward now that your fair maiden has departed?” a note of gentle teasing entered his voice.

Faramir blushed slightly and lowered his gaze, “I miss her already just knowing she is not in the city. It will be a long time until I see her,” he sighed.

“Éowyn is returning with Éomer as part of the escort for Théoden’s body is she not?”

“Yes, but that is almost three months from now!”

“Ah, yes, three months is a long time,” Aragorn said, leaning forward and resting his chin in his hand as he gazed at his Steward with a faint smile. Faramir looked back at him suspiciously. “Faramir,” Aragorn announced, “I have a task for you. Perhaps not directly for you, but something I would like you to oversee.”

“Yes, my lord,” Faramir waited, looking at Aragorn with expectation that slowly turned to concern as the king remained silent with a distant look in his eyes.

Finally, Aragorn said, “I am expecting my kinfolk from the north to visit me close to midsummer. I would like a feast prepared for them, even more elaborate that which was done for the coronation.” Faramir nodded and Aragorn gave him a bitter-sweet smile. “You have wanted to see elves, Faramir and you will meet legends when they arrive.”

“Who is coming?”

“Lord Elrond, Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, and Lord Glorfindel are the ones you have probably heard of. There will be others that are incredibly wise and gifted as well.”

Faramir got to his feet and began pacing back and forth and Aragorn watched him with amusement. “Glorfindel? Did he not die in Gondolin over six thousand years ago?” Faramir asked slowly.

Aragorn nodded, “Yes, he did. He died killing a balrog that was attacking the city. His death saved Elrond’s father’s life,” Aragorn smiled, “who was one of my ancestors as well.”

Faramir sat back down and fixed Aragorn with a piercing stare and then lowered his gaze. “I have read the tales of such things, Aragorn…” he looked up in shock, but Aragorn waved his hand dismissively and indicated he should continue. “I did not believe that elves truly were reborn.”

“They are,” Aragorn sat back in his chair and stretched out his long legs. “Glorfindel has said that he met many elves in Valinor who had been reborn. But he is the only one who has returned here.”

“Why did he come back?”

“To protect and serve my Adar and his family, at least as far as I know. Glorfindel does not speak of it and if others know differently they have not told me.” Aragorn smiled, “He is both kind and fierce and a wonderful teacher of many things, but especially of swordplay, though he was very strict, and who would cross him?”

“Who indeed?” Faramir said quietly. “And the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien and Lord Elrond are coming as well,” his eyes sparkled. “I will not know whom to speak with first.” He laughed lightly. “Though, I will probably be too nervous to speak with them.”

Aragorn smiled, “They are people, Faramir. Ancient and full of wisdom and power, yes, but people nonetheless.”

“I will try and remember that. I will speak with the Master of Protocol about a celebration for them and he can arrange much of it before they arrive.”

“Good, please do not tell him what it is for, just that it is an important celebration. I would like to wait until closer to the actual feast for people to know about this, some people still fear elves.”

Faramir nodded and got to his feet with a sigh, “Unfortunately that is true, my lord. Was there anything else you needed?”

“No, not right now, I will send for you if I have need.”

0-0-0-0-0

The sun reflecting off of the white stones of The Citadel was hot and the glare was blinding as Rebecca made her way to the ramp that led to the lower circles of Minas Tirith. It seemed very hot for late May… or whatever name they called it here. She needed to memorize the months, but with learning Gondorian history and how to speak Sindarin she had not taken the time to do so. Maybe the weather here was just going to be hotter than Minnesota, but what she really wished for right now were sunglasses and a shorter dress than the full-length light green gown Lothrín had picked out for her this morning. At least it was short sleeved. Rebecca paused briefly inside the tunnel to let her eyes adjust to the darkness and to enjoy the relative coolness before she hurried on. It was late afternoon and she had several shops to visit before returning for supper. Rebecca noticed that Maldathor was shadowing her very closely today and she didn’t know if it was because she was alone or because the streets seemed particularly crowded and noisy. Finally finding the street and then the shop she was looking for, Rebecca walked in with a relieved sigh and greeted the shopkeeper with a smile.

“May I help you, my lady?”

“I am looking for a painting a friend of mine was telling me about,” she replied, looking around at the paintings on the walls. Rebecca spotted the one Thomas had told her about immediately and slowly walked towards it. It was a beautiful painting of a forest and you could tell by the shadows it was near sunset. The thing that stood out for Rebecca was that in the background was a large rock with an overhang. It was not a prominent part of the painting and many people might overlook it, but it immediately took Rebecca, just as it had Thomas, back to a wet, soggy night not long after they had met the Fellowship. As Thomas said, it was the perfect gift for Aragorn. They wanted to thank Aragorn for all he had done for them and they had been looking for something special to give him. This particular place had been memorable in many ways for both Rebecca and Thomas. Rebecca turned to the shopkeeper, “I would like to buy that painting, please.”

“Yes, my lady,” the man bowed slightly and carefully lifted the picture down. “Where and to whom should we deliver it?”

Rebecca frowned, she had thought to carry it, but it was too large and it was a long way home. “It needs to go to up to the Citadel to the King’s House. I am Lady Rebecca.”

The shopkeeper looked startled and bowed again, “Yes, my lady.” As Rebecca showed her small signet ring that authorized payment, he nervously asked, “Are you the Lord King’s ward?”

“Yes,” she smiled as she waited for the man to write out the bill and to pour on the wax for her to press her ring into. “Will it be delivered this evening?”

“Yes, my lady, I will send it right away.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca nodded and left. She went to several more shops before deciding to head home. As she passed the gate into the fifth circle, she realized how thirsty she was and wondered if it were proper for her to stop and get a drink when she was alone. She had a feeling it wasn’t, but since she had never been told she couldn’t, Rebecca decided to stop at the inn where she had eaten lunch with the Fellowship several weeks previously. Opening the door, she looked around nervously for a table.

“Lady Rebecca,” Maldathor whispered, “may I suggest the table there,” he indicated one near the wall that was also close to the door.

Nodding, Rebecca sat at the table he suggested and Maldathor stood protectively behind her which made her even more self-conscious especially as she realized there were no other unaccompanied women there. But she ordered a cup of cold fruit juice anyway, determined to drink it quickly and be on her way. It was days like this that she missed having a friend to do things with and she looked forward to having Éowyn return, though she didn’t know if they would ever truly become close friends. Still, she at least knew who she was and that was something that she would treasure. She had met several young ladies of the nobility, but most of them had been more interested in Aragorn than in her. They had evidently seen him as a potential husband and had spent time asking Rebecca questions about him, most of which she had avoided answering which didn’t please them. While they had not been openly hostile to her, the young ladies she had met had not been kind either and Rebecca had seen no reason to develop friendships with any of them. She did like Lothíriel, Prince Imrahil’s daughter, who had a wonderful sense of humor and Rebecca thought they might become friends in time, especially if Rebecca were allowed to tell her the truth about herself. Since Imrahil knew, Rebecca hoped that Lothíriel could be told as well.

Taking a sip of the juice, Rebecca turned her thoughts to Thomas and how little time they actually got to spend together… at least alone. Their afternoons were spent in their individual pursuits, Thomas with Aragorn and Rebecca in the Houses of Healing, which she loved though it was far different than working with Lord Thalion. Maybe she should ask Thomas to join her for archery practice in the mornings now that she was getting better, even if he didn’t shoot at least they would be together. She sighed and fiddled with her half empty cup.

“Lady Rebecca, we must leave,” Maldathor’s voice broke into her musings and she gave him a startled look.

“What?”

“Now, Lady Rebecca,” his voice was stern and urgent and Rebecca was suddenly aware of raised voices at a table full of men at the far corner of the room. Standing, she stared at the men and Maldathor took her elbow, gently, but firmly and ushered her quickly out the door just as the men began yelling and punches were thrown. Other patrons of the inn rushed out behind them and Maldathor signaled to guards at the fifth level gate who came running and he pointed to the inn as he and Rebecca continued briskly away. At a safe distance he stopped, releasing her arm as he asked, “Are you all right, Lady Rebecca? I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I’m fine, Maldathor. Thanks for getting me out of there,” Rebecca replied and he inclined his head. “I thought that was a nice place,” she added as they continued their walk up the hill. The guardsman made no comment as he continued to hover protectively by her. She suddenly glanced at the sun and saw how late it was and she quickened her pace.

Arriving at the King’s House, Rebecca rushed into her chambers and dropped off her basket and hurried back out and across the hall to the dining room. Aragorn, Halbarad, and Thomas looked up as she burst into the room. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she exclaimed breathlessly as she sat down next to Thomas.

Aragorn frowned, “Why are you late? I was about to send someone out to search for you.”

Rebecca looked down as the first course of soup was placed in front of her. “I was shopping and it was hot so I stopped and had a drink and I lost track of the time. It won’t happen again, Adar.”

Biting back a smile at Rebecca calling him Adar when she still only used it occasionally, Aragorn gave her a stern look. “I am sure it will not.”

Quickly changing the subject, Rebecca asked, “Where are the hobbits? I know Gandalf, Gimli, and Legolas weren’t going to be here tonight, but I thought they were coming.”

“Sam wanted a ‘real’ Shire meal tonight,” Thomas replied, “and so they decided to eat supper by themselves for a change.”

“Rebecca,” Aragorn turned back to the original subject, “did you go to an inn by yourself?”

Nodding, Rebecca concentrated on her dinner and then said quietly, “Well, Maldathor was with me of course.” Finally she looked up and met Aragorn’s eyes and shifted uncomfortably in her chair under his steady regard. “It’s wrong for me to go alone, right?”

Aragorn picked up his cup and swirled his wine around for a moment as he gazed at Rebecca. “It is not usual for a woman to be in an inn alone and I suspect you knew that.”

“Yes,” Rebecca gave Thomas a grateful smile as he squeezed her hand under the table.

Seeing the exchange, Aragorn smiled faintly, “As I imagine this is something that is common in your world and you do have a guard with you, I suppose you would be safe enough.”

“Yes, yes, very safe,” Rebecca mumbled, looking down again.

Aragorn sighed and put his fork down, ignoring Halbarad’s muffled laughter. “Rebecca, I believe there is more to this story then you are telling us.”

“Oh, well, nothing really happened, Aragorn, but some men were… arguing and Maldathor made me leave right away,” Rebecca kept her eyes on her chicken as she cut herself a new piece.

Halbarad made another noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter and Rebecca glared at him before she looked at Aragorn to see him watching her with amusement and she relaxed. “I am glad that Maldathor was there to protect you,” he said mildly before turning his attention back to his meal.

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief that Aragorn hadn’t forbidden her to go into inns alone, Rebecca leaned over to Thomas and quickly whispered, “The package is in my room.” Thomas nodded.

As the meal finished and Aragorn and Halbarad started to leave, Thomas spoke up. “Aragorn, if you’re not too busy, would you come to the Library for a minute when you’re done?”

Aragorn nodded absently as he finished his discussion with Halbarad about the possibility of appointing Alvist the Steward of Arnor. He was halfway to his room before he remembered that Thomas and Rebecca wanted to see him and he turned around. He found them sitting on a bench out in the garden talking quietly. “You wanted to speak with me?” he asked quietly, breathing in the scent of the various flowers as he sat on a large rock in front of them.

Rebecca nudged Thomas and after giving her a reluctant look he said, “We have a gift for you.”

“A gift?” Aragorn asked in surprise, looking back and forth between the two of them questioningly. “Why?”

Thomas looked away briefly and then met Aragorn’s eyes. “We know there is no way possible to ever repay you for what you have done for us. Not that you want us to,” he added. “But, umm you’ve done more than you had to when you didn’t even know us, and…” Thomas swallowed hard and looked away from Aragorn and looked helplessly at Rebecca.

She smiled at Thomas and then at Aragorn. “We just wanted to thank you in this really small way for caring for us and being as a father to us in such a horrible situation. Thomas found this,” Rebecca indicated a large package wrapped carefully in cloth, “and we thought it was appropriate. A king really doesn’t need anything, but still…,” she shrugged.

Aragorn gazed at them for a moment with a gentle smile and then turned to open the package without a word. He examined the painting closely, even setting it down and backing up to see it from a distance. Sensing the rising nervousness of Rebecca and Thomas, he finally turned to them. “It is a wonderful painting and I thank you,” he paused briefly, eyeing them closely. “It reminds me of that place we stayed soon after we met.” Aragorn smiled at their pleased expressions.

“That’s what we both thought, Aragorn,” Thomas said, “and that’s why we got it for you.”

“It was sort of an important place,” Rebecca added. “Thomas started learning to use a sword there and you started calling me just Rebecca,” she smiled in remembrance.

Aragorn laughed, “It was very, very wet and cold and you were both miserable as I recall.” Rebecca and Thomas joined in his laughter.

“And I was in pain,” Rebecca admitted.

“I was scared,” Thomas added.

“You were both scared,” Aragorn pointed out with another small laugh, “and Rebecca was embarrassed as well. Sometimes the passage of time helps you remember the good things and diminishes the bad,” Aragorn said as he rose to his feet. “Thank you for this, I will treasure it and while a king does not need anything, a father always appreciates gifts given from the heart.” He kissed Rebecca on the brow and embraced her before embracing Thomas. “I do not have any pressing duties this evening, would you like to go and visit the hobbits?” Thomas and Rebecca nodded and they left the garden.

0-0-0-0-0

“Is Lord Faramir available to see me?” Thomas asked the Steward’s secretary as he entered the large outer office in the tower.

“Come in, Lord Thomas,” Faramir called through the open doorway that led to his private office.

“Good afternoon,” Thomas said as he closed the door behind him.

Faramir nodded in acknowledgment, gesturing Thomas towards a chair, “What does the King require?”

“Oh, I’m not here for him,” Thomas said quickly. “I had something personal to talk to you about, so if you don’t have time now, I can come back later.”

“I have time,” Faramir studied Thomas for a moment before adding, “Though I am somewhat surprised you would come to me to discuss something of a personal nature.”

Thomas paused before answering. While he saw and worked with Faramir almost everyday, it was true that he had kept a certain amount of distance between them. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Faramir, it was just that his resemblance to Boromir was hard for him at times and even though he knew that he wasn’t being fair to the Steward, he couldn’t help himself. “I need your advice and it’s not something I want to discuss with Aragorn… at least not yet.”

“Ah, then this must be about Lady Rebecca,” Faramir smiled. “It must be difficult to have the same guardian,” he commented.

“At times it is,” Thomas agreed with a small laugh. “I wanted to ask about betrothal customs. Éomer mentioned silver and gold rings, but he didn’t know any other Gondorian customs and I know nothing about wedding ceremonies here.”

Faramir leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression. “I imagine that things are done much differently in your world. Éomer was correct about having silver and gold rings and the exchange of silver rings is all that is required for the betrothal. That and the consent of her father or guardian,” he smiled.

“That’s similar, though usually only a woman gets a ring then.”

“The wedding ceremony is quite simple.” Faramir went on to explain the details while Thomas listened closely and asked questions.

“Well, some of this is the same, but a few things are different,” Thomas shrugged and then gave Faramir a sly smile. “As long as we’re married at the end of it, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Faramir laughed, “No, it will not. Are you going to ask her soon?”

“As soon as I can, I was going to wait until her birthday, but it’s over a month away and we have to wait a year already.” Faramir gave him an understanding smile. “All I need to do now is to speak with Aragorn, but I know he’ll approve. Thank you for your help,” he stood to leave.

“Please stay a moment.” Thomas sat back down and looked at the Steward questioningly while Faramir stared down at his hands for a moment before meeting Thomas’s eyes once again. Finally, he spoke softly, “When I first met you in the Houses of Healing, I mentioned that I would like to hear of your journey with Boromir because you were obviously close to him.” His gaze sharpened as he looked piercingly at Thomas. “Learning of how you met and where you are from has only heightened my interest, yet I have hesitated to speak with you because I sense you are uneasy around me.” Thomas dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before raising his eyes once again and he saw that Faramir was looking at him with understanding in his grey eyes. “I assume that it is because I greatly resemble my brother, though I suppose I might have offended you in some way.”

“You have never offended me, my Lord Prince Steward!” Thomas hastened to reassure him. He sighed and looked directly at Faramir. “I’m sorry, my lord, but you do remind me so much of Boromir and it’s still hard for me to be reminded of him at times.” He gave Faramir a half smile, “You do some things the same way and you even sound like him at times. Though I’m learning you’re very different in a lot of ways too,” he shrugged.

“Why were you two so close?”

Thomas shrugged again, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know for sure. We had a couple of tough times at the beginning when I was very upset with him, but it turned out he was right.” Faramir smiled. “We talked quite a bit as we walked and he taught me and Rebecca a lot about life here. While Aragorn was a father figure, Boromir was more like a big brother I guess and I needed that as I missed my own brother. I didn’t have a father at home, but I did have a brother, even if he was younger. I don’t know, Lord Faramir…”

“Please call me Faramir.”

Thomas nodded, “I will if you call me Thomas. In Lothlórien we spent hours together, either sparring or just talking. Sometimes just the two of us and sometimes with Aragorn or the hobbits, there weren’t a lot of other things to do.” Thomas paused and looked at Faramir uncertainly, “I don’t know if that answers your questions, Faramir.”

“Yes, for now,” Faramir said softly, “except for one that I have not asked anyone except Lady Rebecca and she was not there and if you do not want to answer it, Thomas, I will understand. How did Boromir die? I know from speaking with Frodo in Ithilien that he… he probably attempted to take the Ring from him, but I do not know what happened after that.”

Thomas stared at him in dismay. “You haven’t asked Aragorn?”

“No, there has never been an appropriate time to ask him,” he looked at Thomas with an unreadable expression.

Staring at the floor, Thomas took a deep breath and began speaking quietly. “He died trying to save Merry and Pippin, Faramir. Aragorn and I were fighting orcs quite a ways away and when we heard his horn we ran to him, but we were too late.” He took another deep breath, “He had too many arrows in him, though he was still alive when we got there,” Thomas looked up at Faramir’s sharp indrawn breath to see tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, but there was nothing we could do for him and he died a few minutes later.”

“I am sure you could not have done anything, Thomas, or Aragorn would have succeeded. He is a gifted healer. Did Boromir say anything?” he asked.

Thomas nodded and furrowed his brow in thought, “He-he told me he was sorry that he had to break his promise to me and Rebecca and to ask you to show us around Minas Tirith. And he asked Aragorn to protect his land and people and he called him his king. That’s all I remember,” he said quietly.

Faramir closed his eyes and sighed deeply, “Thank you, Thomas, I know it was not easy for you to do this, but it sets my mind at ease knowing of my brother’s last moments and knowing that he died protecting the hobbits.” Thomas nodded. “It also sounds like I owe you and Rebecca a tour of the city,” a very faint glimmer of amusement lit the depths of his eyes and Thomas smiled weakly.

“Oh, I think we can skip that part now, Faramir. I’m glad that telling you was helpful,” he paused briefly, “perhaps it will be helpful for me as well.”

Faramir nodded and was about to speak when a knock on the door interrupted him. “Come in,” he called. His secretary opened the door,

“The King is here to see you, my lord.”

“Send him right in,” Faramir gave Thomas an apologetic look, but he just shrugged in return.

Aragorn strode in and stopped in surprise upon seeing Thomas sitting there. “Am I interrupting something? I can come back later or you can come see me when you are finished, Faramir.”

Faramir looked at Thomas who shook his head, “I believe we are finished, my Lord King. What do you require of me?” Thomas got to his feet without another word and bowed slightly to Faramir and smiled briefly at Aragorn before leaving.

Aragorn watched him go and turned back to Faramir with a puzzled expression. “Is he all right?”

“Yes, my lord, he is just fine,” he said firmly, staring unflinchingly at his king. “Now, how can I serve you?” After a long pause, Aragorn turned to the parchments he had brought with him, dismissing the matter of Thomas from his mind, at least for now.

0-0-0-0-0

Strolling back up to The Citadel with Thomas, Aragorn smiled and nodded at his people that they passed. He was not able to be out amongst them as often as he wished, so to go with Thomas to pick out the betrothal rings had given Aragorn a good excuse to do so.

“Thank you for coming with me, it was helpful to have you there,” Thomas said.

Aragorn laid his arm across Thomas’s shoulders. “I was glad to be there for you, though truthfully it was not something I ever thought I would be doing until I was much older and actually married,” he grinned and Thomas laughed. “When will you ask her?”

Thomas frowned, “Soon, tomorrow, the next day,” he shrugged. “I just don’t know where to do it. It’s not very romantic to take her to an inn with guards surrounding us,” he glanced sidelong at Aragorn, who smiled, yet did not otherwise respond. “Which is what they do where I come from. Do you think the kitchen staff would make a special meal for us?”

Aragorn stopped abruptly and turned to face Thomas, heedless of the curious looks they drew. “You should know by now that you have only to ask and it will be done for you.”

“I know, I know, I just forget sometimes,” Thomas said as they walked on. “It hasn’t been that long since we’ve been here,” he pointed out. “Anyway, if they made a special supper, I thought maybe we could eat it in the Library or the garden so we could at least be alone. It’s not exactly what I’d like since we use those places so often that they aren’t very special, but it will work.”

“There is the balcony off of the sitting room.”

Thomas brightened, “It would be perfect. We never use it, so it would be different enough and it has a nice view. And being upstairs I can arrange things without her knowing about it. Well, maybe I can,” he added hopefully. “Doesn’t she work at the Houses of Healing tomorrow?”

“I believe so,” Aragorn replied after a moments thought.

“Then can I have tomorrow afternoon off to arrange things so I can propose to her tomorrow night?”

Aragorn glanced at Thomas with amusement in his eyes, “Anxious to start your betrothal year?”

“Yes.”

Laughing quietly as they approached the King’s House, Aragorn said, “Take tomorrow off, but I will need you the next few days after that all day long as we have those emissaries from Umbar and Harad arriving next week and I have several things for you to do. Tell Dolgaran tomorrow where and why you will be gone.”

“Yes, my Lord King,” Thomas grinned and Aragorn shook his head in mock dismay as they entered the House.

0-0-0

Thomas rushed around the balcony rearranging the flowers and candles one last time. Aragorn had been right, the kitchen servants had been more than happy to make a special supper for him and Rebecca and serve it to them here on the balcony. Mistress Nimrie had also been helpful in arranging for the table and chairs to be set up out here as well as the torches that were placed along the wall to be lit later. Thomas had picked the flowers himself, finding ones that he knew Rebecca liked. Finally satisfied that the table was perfect and that he needed to change before he ‘picked up’ Rebecca, he hurried off to his room. Opening the door, he found his manservant, Rosruin, standing on his balcony brushing off one of his tunics. The servant returned inside and bowed, “My lord, do you require a bath to be prepared for you this evening?”

“No, I’m just going to wash up and change my clothes,” Thomas replied as he headed into the bedchamber.

“Shall I select something for you, Lord Thomas?”

Reminding himself again that Rosruin was only doing his job, Thomas bit back the retort he wanted to make and said instead, “Could you find that dark blue tunic I wore… oh, one day last week. It has stars embroidered on the left side of the chest. I’d like to wear that with one of those lighter blue, almost silver colored shirts and dark blue leggings. Please find those for me,” Thomas nodded in dismissal and headed into the bathing room. When he returned some time later, he found all of the items he requested lying on the bed and he smiled at Rosruin, “Thanks.” The servant bowed slightly and knowing that Thomas did not want his help in dressing left the room. Quickly donning his clean clothes and checking his appearance in the small polished metal that passed for a mirror here, Thomas left the room after carefully tucking the two silver rings into a pocket of his tunic. To his surprise, Aragorn was waiting for him in the hallway and he looked Thomas over with approval.

“Rebecca may actually accept your proposal,” he commented in a teasing voice. Thomas nodded absently, not really listening as he tugged on the sleeve of his tunic. “Then again she may refuse to marry you and marry Hinluin instead,” Aragorn continued in the same tone.

“What? What did you say?” Thomas looked up in alarm.

“Nothing important,” Aragorn grinned, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. He suddenly turned serious, “I just came by to tell you to relax and enjoy your evening. It will become a treasured memory for both of you.” Aragorn’s voice dropped, “I know the time I became betrothed is, though of course that may be because the wait for the marriage itself has been so long,” he admitted wryly.

“Ours will be long enough,” Thomas replied, shifting nervously on his feet, impatient to leave.

Aragorn smiled, “I think you better go, Thomas, you do not want to keep Rebecca waiting.”

Nodding, Thomas hurried off down the stairs to Rebecca’s chambers. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and waited. Lothrín opened it and smiled at him, “Good evening, Lord Thomas,” she said.

“Good evening, Mistress Lothrín, is Lady Rebecca ready for supper? I came to escort her this evening.”

Lothrín looked at him closely and then smiled again, “She is almost ready, my lord. Would you like to wait in the sitting room?” Thomas nodded and walked in and immediately moved to the window and stared blankly out into the garden, his mind racing with how to propose to Rebecca. It should be so simple, he thought with dismay. They loved each other, she knew it was only a matter of time until he asked her, so why was it suddenly so hard? Thomas almost groaned out loud.

“Thomas?”

Turning, Thomas felt his words catch in his throat as he gazed at Rebecca. There were times she looked so young and vulnerable and it brought out his protective nature. Then there were times like this when Rebecca looked so stunningly beautiful that it almost took his breath away and he knew that she was every bit a woman, no matter how young in years. Swallowing hard and clearing his throat, Thomas finally responded, “I came to take you to supper this evening,” he said, moving to her, his eyes never leaving hers.

Rebecca laughed softly, “But it’s just across the hall, Thomas.”

“I have something different planned,” he explained, taking her hand in his and caressing it gently. “You look beautiful,” Thomas added, looking her up and down, taking a closer look at the soft blue dress she wore that flowed gently down her body. Rebecca’s hair was fixed slightly different he noticed and it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps she had been told ahead of time about his plans and while it annoyed him, he was also pleased with the results.

“Thank you. What do you mean that you have something different planned? I thought we were having guests tonight.”

“Come along,” he smiled mysteriously and led her from the room and up the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked, looking around in confusion.

“You’ll see,” Thomas replied, leading her through the sitting room and out onto the balcony. Rebecca gasped in surprise when she saw the table and how it was decorated and she turned to Thomas, suddenly looking shy.

“You did this for me?” Thomas nodded and looked behind her to the servants who were bringing out drinks and baskets of hot rolls before quickly disappearing. Thomas helped Rebecca into her chair and then sat next to her so that they could both see out over the wall surrounding the balcony.

“I tried to think of something from where we’re from for the cooks to make, but I couldn’t think of anything that they could make here. A hamburger and french fries sounds wonderful, even for a special supper,” Thomas grinned and Rebecca laughingly agreed. They ate their meal slowly, talking about what each of them was learning in the afternoons when they went their separate ways, they talked about various members of the Fellowship and they laughed together over silly things as they lingered over dessert. The torches had been lit and all of the dishes had been cleared away and Thomas knew the servants would not be returning and he decided it was time. He knew she already knew why they were here and he just had to ask her, but he was still incredibly nervous. He decided that killing orcs was easier than asking Rebecca to marry him. Thomas took her hand in his and gave her a searching look and she smiled in return. “I’m sure you know why I did this, Rebecca.”

“I thought you just wanted to have a nice supper with me,” she said with a look of confusion on her face, though Thomas could swear he saw amusement in her eyes.

“Well, yes of course, but it was for more than that,” he paused as if waiting for her to fill in the blank, but Rebecca was not going to let him off the hook that easily and she just looked at him expectantly, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “I wanted to ask you to marry me,” Thomas said with exasperation evident in his voice.

Rebecca finally smiled, “Is that the question?” she teased lightly, “or are you telling me that you intended to ask me that?”

“Rebecca,” Thomas growled, though a smile was starting to spread across his face. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Thomas, I will,” she replied softly, her eyes glistening in the flickering torchlight.

“Good,” he said sighing, deeply relieved that the hard part was over. He stood, pulling Rebecca up with him and dug into his pocket for the betrothal rings. “Here are the rings I picked out for us. We wear these for a year and then we exchange them for gold ones on our wedding day.” Rebecca nodded as Thomas carefully slid the intricately etched silver band onto her right index finger, “I love you,” he whispered as he kissed her tenderly.

“I love you too, Thomas Morgan,” Rebecca said as she placed Thomas’s ring on his finger before kissing him. Thomas took her hand and led her to the edge of the balcony where he drew her into his arms simply embracing her for a moment, cherishing the thought that in a year Rebecca would be his wife. Rebecca startled him slightly by wrapping her arms around his neck, drawing his head down and beginning to kiss him gently. He smiled at her eagerness and she whispered, “What?” but he simply shook his head and responded to her kisses. Neither of them knew, nor cared very much how long they stood on the balcony wrapped in each other’s arms; sometimes kissing gently and tenderly, sometimes more deeply and passionately, and sometimes just holding each other and staring quietly into the night. It was Rebecca who spoke first, “Where will we live?”

“Here, I suppose,” Thomas said, looking down at her. “I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Faramir was born and raised right here so I think it’s just expected that we stay. Don’t you want to live here?”

“Well, Arwen will be here soon and when she and Aragorn have children, won’t we just be in the way?” Rebecca looked up at Thomas shyly. “Do you want to have children, Thomas?”

He smiled, “Yes, I hope we have a few,” he looked at her questioningly and she nodded. “Rebecca are you nervous about Arwen?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “What if she doesn’t like us and doesn’t want us around? What will we do?”

“Rebecca,” he chided softly, “you know Aragorn better than that. For one thing he wouldn’t love someone like that.” She nodded. “And he wouldn’t let anyone do that to us.”

“I know, Thomas, and I keep telling myself that, but it doesn’t seem to help very much,” she sighed. “Maybe telling you will help.”

“Sharing your fears does seem to help. I know you can’t talk to Aragorn about Arwen, but Legolas knows her, maybe you can speak with him. It might help put your mind at ease about her.”

“He’s also known her a lot longer than Aragorn anyway so he can tell me even more than Adar could,” she smiled and then tried to cover a yawn, but Thomas saw it and glanced up at the sliver of moon.

“It’s late,” he murmured reluctantly, “and we shou


Chapter 30 - A Royal Wedding

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Reader – J.

Special thanks go to my friend and fellow writer, Larner for allowing me to ‘steal’ some of her wedding ideas that were used her stories. Thank you Mellon nín.

Author Notes: Another snippet from one of Tolkien’s letters that seemed to fit this chapter: That is why I regard the tale of Arwen and Aragorn as the most important part of the Appendices; it is part of the essential story, and only placed so, because it could not be worked into the main narrative without destroying its structure: which is planned to be ‘hobbit-centric’, that is, primarily a study of the ennoblement (or sanctification) of the humble. Letter 181, The Letters of JRR Tolkien


[…] are used to indicate conversations in elvish and individual elvish words are translated at the end of the chapter.


Chapter 30 – A Royal Wedding

The streets of Minas Tirith were packed with people as Thomas led the company of elves and honor guards up to the Citadel. Even though King Elessar and his bride were obviously not part of their group, as no banners preceded them, only guards, the people still cheered as they passed and he forced himself to smile and nod. He was starting to become accustomed to the pageantry that occurred whenever he was part of a formal royal event like today, though he much preferred it when he could walk around the city by himself. Thomas smiled inwardly at that thought, for he was never truly alone, he had, for the moment, forgotten about his ever present guard. Glancing back, Thomas saw, with some surprise, that Rebecca was walking with Erestor instead of one of the twins. Elladan had introduced them to Erestor and he had told them that he was Elrond’s councilor, that he helped run Imladris and that he also had been a tutor to the twins, Arwen, and Aragorn when they were young. Thomas glanced at Elrohir as the elf moved up alongside him.

“You are betrothed,” the elf noted without preamble.

“Thirty-six days ago,” Thomas replied with a grin.

Elrohir smiled and clasped Thomas on the back for a moment. “A year is a long time when one is young and a mortal. I wish you joy.”

“Thank you. Asking her was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” he admitted as they started up the ramp to the Citadel.

“That is why I am not married,” Elrohir confessed in a whisper, his eyes showing his amusement and Thomas laughed. Elrohir pulled Thomas to a stop in the courtyard, his eyes fixed on the Court of the Fountain. “There is a living tree again,” he said, joy and awe evident in his voice. Elladan, Erestor, Halbarad, and Rebecca joined them while the other elves spread out around them.

“Aragorn and Gandalf found it up in the mountains,” Thomas explained quietly, leading them around to see the four foot tall blossoming White Tree from another side. The bark was silver grey and the leaves were a deep, dark green on top while the undersides were a brilliant silver.

“The people in the city were very excited,” Rebecca added as they circled the tree.

“Then this morning when Aragorn announced that he was getting married, people became excited all over again,” Thomas continued.

“Not everyone,” Rebecca disagreed with a small laugh. “I know several young ladies that I’m sure were very upset by the news.” Smiles and quiet laughter greeted that statement.

Thomas led them on to the King’s House where Master Belegion, Mistress Nimrie, and many of the other servants were waiting. Most of the elves were taken to chambers in the guest quarters, while Erestor was given a room in the royal apartments. Mistress Nimrie showed Erestor to his chambers and Elladan and Elrohir returned to their former rooms, while Halbarad, Rebecca, and Thomas went to the sitting room where the three elves would join them once they were feeling refreshed from their journey. The three of them went out onto the balcony and sat around a large round table, listening to the cheers of the people as the King and his bride made their way up through the city.

“Do you like Arwen, lady?” Halbarad asked abruptly.

Rebecca thought for a moment and then nodded slowly. “I barely talked to her, but yes I do. She seems kind and it’s obvious that she loves Aragorn very much.”

“She does.”

“Arwen wouldn’t be marrying Aragorn if she didn’t,” Thomas pointed out quietly. “The cost is too high.” He reached over and took Rebecca’s hand.

“Do you know her very well?” Rebecca asked Halbarad curiously, “I never thought to ask you.”

Halbarad shook his head, “No. I have been in Rivendell several times, but Arwen was only there one of those times.”

“You’ll get to know her now,” Rebecca smiled.

“Who? Arwen?” a new voice asked as Elladan joined them, followed closely by Elrohir and Erestor.

Rebecca explained, “Halbarad said that he didn’t really know Arwen either, so he’ll get to know her just like Thomas and I will.”

“The people of this city are noisy,” Erestor commented, though he did not sound particularly upset.

“It’s not everyday they get a new queen,” Thomas reminded him.

“And Aragorn is well liked, so the people are excited,” Rebecca said.

“Arwen will be a wonderful queen for you,” Erestor said, and this time Rebecca and Thomas both heard a hint of sorrow in his voice. Thomas glanced over at Elladan and Elrohir and saw they looked impassive, though he thought there might be glimmers of pain in their usually expressive eyes. But he knew they were fully capable of keeping the pain of losing their sister locked away. They truly wanted Aragorn and Arwen to have joy on their wedding day even if it was difficult for them personally. Thomas couldn’t begin to imagine what Elrond was going through. The streets had gotten quiet and he realized that Aragorn and the rest of the party of elves had reached the Citadel and he turned to one of the servants.

“Nusirile, the King and the rest of our guests will be joining us shortly. Please make sure the drinks and the refreshments are ready to be served,” he directed.

“Yes, my lord,” she said, hurrying off to do his biding.

“Have you enjoyed your studies?” Elladan asked, his gaze moving between Thomas and Rebecca. “Your Sindarin sounded… quite proper for beginners,” he smiled faintly.

Thomas grimaced as he answered, “It’s all right, Lord Elladan, but it will never be my favorite thing to do. Sindarin is difficult,” he admitted, “but Aragorn was right, it does have a romantic quality to it that has been useful,” he smiled, glancing at Rebecca, missing the frown that crossed Erestor’s face.

“I love learning both Sindarin and the history of Gondor,” Rebecca said. “There are such interesting people and so much happened and…”

Erestor snorted, “You are only studying the history of Gondor?” he asked his eyes boring into hers.

“Well, yes, that’s all that Adar has asked the tutor to teach us… at least right now.” Rebecca glanced at the twins to see their eyes were sparkling with amusement.

“That is appalling, you need to learn about the first and second ages as well. I must speak with Estel.”

“Speak with me about what?” Aragorn asked as he stepped out onto the balcony.

“The fact that these children…,” Rebecca and Thomas started at that and then relaxed knowing that to elves they were indeed children. “… are not being taught the history of the first and second ages,” Erestor explained.

“Ah,” Aragorn said, taking a sip of his wine and studiously avoiding looking at his brothers, knowing he would laugh if he did so. Erestor had a crusty exterior and a heart of gold and was as much a member of his family as the twins or Glorfindel. “I was planning to have the history of those ages taught to them eventually, Erestor,” he said mildly. “However, I felt that the history of Gondor and Arnor was more important for them at this time. Perhaps you would care to instruct them during your stay?” Aragorn asked.

Erestor regarded Aragorn for a long moment and then turned his penetrating gaze on Rebecca and Thomas, only one of whom actually seemed excited about the idea. He pursed his lips and looked back at Aragorn, “I shall be glad to teach them, Estel, though I will not be here long enough to give them more than an overview. However…”

Whatever else Erestor was going to say was lost by the arrival of Arwen and Elrond as Aragorn quickly moved to her, taking her hand and leading her further out onto the balcony. Halbarad and the elves stood and Thomas hastily followed. “Please, sit,” Arwen said quietly without ever taking her eyes off of Aragorn. Thomas and Halbarad exchanged amused glances as they sat back down. Out from underneath the scrutiny of thousands of people, Aragorn wrapped his arm around Arwen’s waist possessively, drawing her to him and kissing her tenderly while those on the balcony politely looked away. The noise of a chair being pulled out from a table made Aragorn look up and his eyes met those of Elrond as the elf-lord sat down next to Rebecca and he suddenly remembered they weren’t alone on the balcony. With a small sigh, he led Arwen, though he did not remove his arm from her waist, over to the table and joined the others.

“When will the wedding take place, ion-nín?” Elrond asked, gazing at Aragorn with affection in his light grey eyes.

“At the twelfth hour, near the Court of the Fountain. I thought to combine some elvish elements with Gondorian wedding customs to honor both of our heritages,” Aragorn replied, turning to Arwen.

“That would please me, but will your people understand?” she asked, lightly tracing her fingers over the back of Aragorn’s hand.

“Our people need to understand that their queen is an elf,” Aragorn said firmly, “and that I was raised among elves as well.” His voice softened, “Truly Arwen, the ceremony is for us and our family and none will find it unusual.”

Arwen nodded, “It should be special for us,” she smiled, “we have waited for a very long time.”

“From what Faramir told me it doesn’t seem like the ceremony was very long or involved anyway, so adding something elvish can only make it better,” Thomas offered tentatively. He shifted uncomfortably as everyone turned and looked at him.

“What do you know of elvish weddings, Thomas?” Elrohir asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Well, nothing, but…” he paused and gave Aragorn a sheepish grin, “… most elvish things I’ve ever seen are beautiful so I imagine a wedding would be too.”

Small smiles graced the faces of the elves while Aragorn grinned at him, “Indeed, elvish things are beautiful,” he said shifting his gaze back to Arwen. Aragorn cleared his throat and looked back at Elrond, “After the wedding there will be a celebration for the people of the city down on the Pelennor and a formal feast here.”

“Will you be gone a long time after the wedding?” Rebecca suddenly asked.

Aragorn gave her a puzzled look, “Gone? Gone where?” he finally asked, looking at Thomas to see that he had the same questioning look on his face that Rebecca had. Halbarad and the elves were also looking at Rebecca with confusion.

“Aren’t you and Arwen going to take a trip after the wedding, Adar?”

“A trip? No,” Aragorn shook his head slowly, “though I like the thought of that,” he smiled faintly. “Is that what they do where you are from?”

Thomas nodded and smiled, “It’s called a honeymoon and the couple could be gone anywhere from a few days to a few weeks and they usually go someplace special. But wherever they go, it’s just so they have some time alone together. You don’t do that here?”

“No, we do not. However, I do like the thought of having some time alone with Arwen. It has been far too long, so I believe that we shall take our leave of you that I may show her the garden and we will join you at supper in an hour or so. Rebecca, Thomas, I would ask that you see to our guests’ needs.” They nodded mutely, hiding their uneasiness, as Aragorn stood, helping Arwen to her feet and leading her from the balcony. [“I hope you did not mind, meleth-nín,”] he said quietly, his tone slightly apologetic as they walked down the stairs.

Arwen just looked at him with a small smile playing about her lips, [“As much as I love our family, Estel, I would rather spend time with you and you did tell me that we would have some time together this evening.”]

Aragorn caressed the hand that was lying on his arm as he nodded in acknowledgement, [“I actually thought we might have time after supper, so perhaps we will have time then as well.”] He smiled as he led her through the door near the library and out into the garden and she gasped in surprise at the large enclosed area comprised mostly of flowers, though there were also some small trees and shrubs.

[“It is beautiful, Estel, I never thought to have such a place here.”]

[“I was surprised to discover it, but I find it is very peaceful and restful. Our chambers,”] he indicated two doors off to their left, “open directly out here.”

[“And the other doors?”]

[“That one leads to Rebecca’s room and the door there behind us goes into the library.”]

[“Where is Thomas’s room?”]

[“Upstairs,”] Aragorn pointed up to one of the balconies. [“Halbarad and our brothers also have rooms up there. But come, I did not bring you out here to discuss whose room is where.”] He smiled and led her along the paths and deeper into the large garden to where a small pond was located and they sat on a marble bench. Wrapping his strong arms around her, he drew her close and they sat for a time watching the fish play in the pond, enjoying the peace and quiet and the joy of simply being together.

[“You are weary, beloved,”]Arwen said finally, turning slightly so that she could see his face and eyes better.

[“I am,”] he admitted, [“the pressures of being a king, I suppose,”] he shrugged. [ “But the war, Arwen, was horrific and…”] Aragorn leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and she rubbed his back soothingly as he spoke. [“Many times I despaired of ever surviving and yet we fought on and with the grace of the Valar and the courage of Frodo and Samwise somehow we prevailed. But the horrors we endured along the way will never leave my heart and mind,”] he glanced up at Arwen and gave her a sad smile. [“And though we won, Arwen, I failed,”] Aragorn paused briefly, [“I failed Boromir,”] he whispered, tears starting to fall as the grief and guilt from Boromir’s death was finally expressed in the presence of the one person with whom he felt totally safe and secure. Arwen said nothing as he wept quietly, simply moving closer and wrapping her arm around his shoulders and resting her cheek against his arm. [“Forgive me, Arwen,”] he finally said quietly, turning to look at her, [“I did not mean for our first time alone to be spent like this.”]

[“You are in pain, Estel and I would relieve it if I can,”] she moved her hand gently through his hair. [“We will not have just brief, stolen moments here and there as you ride through Imladris on your way to somewhere else. We will have as much time as we need together now. That is, if you can spare time for me between your duties as king,”] she teased him gently.

Aragorn sat up then and wrapped his arms around her again, [“I may try and find a moment or two, meleth-nín,”] he said in the same tone of voice before kissing her long and tenderly. Pulling back slightly, he gently trailed the back of his fingers over her cheek as he asked, [“And how do you fare? I know it could not have been easy for you either, staying behind in Imladris.”]

Arwen looked down at the fish pond for a moment before she responded, [“It was difficult, Estel. We did not hear word of you for so long. Not that that was unusual,”] Aragorn could hear a hint of amusement in her voice though he could not see her eyes. [“Then when we heard from Daernaneth that Mithrandir had fallen, my heart broke for you,”] she said softly, her fingers tightening around his hand. [“I know how close you are to him, how long you had been friends and I feared for you.”] She looked up at him, [“I feared you would despair and there was nothing I could do. Then Elladan and Elrohir rode out and again I could do nothing but wait. Of course, Adar felt much the same and he provided what comfort he could, but it was difficult nonetheless. We knew when Sauron fell and then we waited to hear if you had survived, though I knew that you had.”] Arwen smiled and leaned into him with a sigh of contentment and Aragorn pressed his lips into her hair.

[“This seems as a dream, Arwen. To have you here, in my arms… to be my wife tomorrow… it does not seem real to me. I keep expecting to wake up.”]

[“Well, do not!”] Arwen laughed as she turned and kissed him lightly. [“I am having the same dream and I do not want to wake up, beloved.”]

Chuckling as well, Aragorn took Arwen’s face in his hands and looked at her for a long moment, [“You bring such joy to my heart, meleth-nín,”] he murmured before he kissed her deeply, all other worries and concerns fading from his mind as he focused solely on her.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca and Thomas were leaving the dining room when Aragorn stopped them. The supper had been pleasant, but they were more than ready to leave and have some time alone to discuss the events of the day. “Thank you for what you did earlier, I know you were not very comfortable with being left alone with people you did not know, but I appreciated it.”

“It’s all right, you needed to have some time with Lady Arwen,” Rebecca replied. “If anyone understands that, it’s Thomas and me,” she smiled.

“I suppose you do,” he nodded with a faint smile. “Do you have plans now?”

“We were going to go…” Thomas paused, glancing at Arwen and Elrond who had joined them. He and Rebecca often spent time in the garden so they didn’t have to have a guard with them, but he realized that Aragorn might want to use it tonight for the exact same reason. “We thought we might take a walk around the Citadel,” he finished. Rebecca gave him a puzzled look, but said nothing.

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Aragorn said, clasping Thomas lightly on the back. He pulled Thomas towards him as he did so and whispered in his ear, “We will have to make a schedule for using the garden.” Thomas nodded and grinned as Aragorn released him while the others just looked at them curiously.

“May I join you on your walk?” Elrond asked. “There are questions I would ask you and I do not know if we will have time later for such discussions.”

Rebecca and Thomas exchanged quick glances and then Thomas bowed slightly, “Of course, Lord Elrond, you are welcome to join us.”

“However,” Rebecca looked at Aragorn, “we do have guards that go with us so it will be hard to speak freely.”

Aragorn let out a long suffering sigh, “Rebecca, you know the guards keep well back when you are accompanied by others, especially when you are within the Citadel.”

“It was worth a try,” she shrugged and grinned.

Aragorn gave her a fond smile and turned to Arwen when she asked, “Guard? You have a guard, Rebecca?”

“Yes, Lady Arwen, I have a guard and so does Thomas. Aragorn has two. I admit it was hard at first and I was mostly teasing Aragorn just now, but there have been occasions when my guard has protected me when I have been out shopping or walking.” Aragorn raised an eyebrow at Rebecca’s use of the word ‘occasions’ as he was only aware of the one incident in the inn. He was going to have to speak with her or her guards, but he pushed that thought aside and focused on Arwen.

“Then I will have guards as well,” she stated, looking at Aragorn with a question in her eyes.

“Yes, Faramir is already arranging that for you,” he gave her a reassuring smile, “and you will become accustomed to them. Come, meleth-nín, we will take our leave so that they have time for their walk.” With quiet good nights and a promise to Elrond to return Arwen to the room they were sharing before it became too late, Aragorn and Arwen left the room.

“Shall we go, Lord Elrond?” Thomas asked politely and at the elf-lord’s nod they left the room and then the building. Unsure of where to walk as he and Rebecca would probably have gone directly to the point of the keel where they could be assured of privacy while they talked, Thomas decided to walk around the outer edge of the Citadel. “I thought we might walk around the edge of the Citadel,” he said glancing up at Elrond. The elf-lord nodded again and they walked along in silence for a time. Thomas was starting to wonder how the elf-lord was going to ask questions if he wasn’t going to speak to them and he cast a questioning sidelong glance at Rebecca to see the same puzzled look in her eyes.

“I was merely waiting for the guards to drop back out of earshot before I asked my questions,” Elrond said quietly.

Rebecca and Thomas looked at him in surprise. “Do you read minds like Lady Galadriel?” Rebecca asked.

“No, however I do read facial expressions quite well, especially those of young mortals.”

“Oh, well that’s good,” Rebecca said with a small sigh of relief before realizing she may have offended him and she looked at Elrond carefully, but he gave her a kind smile.

“It is rather disconcerting to have your thoughts read and to have someone speak in your mind in that manner.” Thomas and Rebecca nodded. “I desired to speak with you because I have heard some of your story. May I freely ask you questions? It is not my intent to cause you pain by speaking of things you would rather not recall,” Elrond’s voice had become gentle, though there was still an undercurrent of incredible strength running through it.

Glancing at Rebecca who nodded once, Thomas replied quietly, “You can ask whatever you want to, Lord Elrond. We might not be able to answer you, but we’ll try.” He looked over his shoulder to make sure the guards were, in fact, far enough away and stopped dead in his tracks. “Lord Glorfindel! I didn’t know you were even here.”

“As you have your guards, Thomas, I guard Lord Elrond. I will not allow him to walk unprotected in this city of men.”

Thomas looked back at Elrond and realized that unlike Glorfindel and himself, the elf-lord was not wearing a sword. He turned back to Glorfindel, “I understand, my lord, but you took me by surprise.” Glorfindel acknowledged his remark with a small smile.

“I’m not sure we’ll ever get used to elves, Thomas, but you are getting better at hearing Adar,” Rebecca said with a smile.

“Yes, I think I heard him once in the last twenty some times he came up behind me and that time he had a cold and I could hear him sniffling,” Thomas scowled at her briefly before remembering Elrond and Glorfindel and turning serious once again. “I’m sorry, my lords, shall we continue?” The two elves nodded, their eyes glimmering with amusement as they walked on.

“Estel sneaks up on you?” Glorfindel asked, walking alongside them now.

“Not really, but sort of. It started on our journey and it was about me learning to pay attention to my surroundings. I-I wasn’t used to having to do that, and now it’s become sort of a joke…jest between us.” Thomas smiled, “And while I very, very seldom catch Aragorn, I’m pretty good with others… except elves,” he muttered. Glorfindel and Rebecca laughed and Elrond smiled faintly. Reaching the keel, the four of them walked out onto it and sat on the benches at the point, looking down on the city and out over the Pelennor in the late setting sun of mid-summer.

Finally Elrond said quietly, “As I mentioned, I have heard some of the story of your arrival in Middle-earth from my sons and from Galadriel and Celeborn, but I would prefer to hear the story from you directly. Then, if we have time, I would like to hear of your world.”

After glancing at each other, Rebecca spoke up, “Since Thomas was awake first, I’ll let him tell you what happened and I’ll fill in any details,” she smiled at Thomas who frowned slightly and then began to speak of all that had happened to him and what he remembered of the day he woke up in Middle-earth. Elrond and Glorfindel listened intently as Thomas, and occasionally Rebecca, spoke and Elrond asked gentle, yet probing questions as they recounted their experiences of those first few days.

Thomas stopped speaking when he got to the point where Gandalf had explained about Sauron and the Ring and about some of the history of Middle-earth, he didn’t know how many more details Elrond wanted. He and Rebecca looked at each other as they waited patiently for the elf-lord to continue or to explain why he wanted to know about their arrival. Elrond appeared to be lost in thought, his eyes hooded and his brow furrowed. Glorfindel was looking out over the Pelennor, though it had grown dark now and Thomas wasn’t sure what he could see even with elvish eyesight. After many long moments, Elrond said quietly, “The hour grows late so I believe we will have to speak of your world at another time.” He stood gracefully to his feet. Rebecca and Thomas slowly stood up looking at the elf-lord with confusion. Elrond looked down at them intently, his grey eyes glittering in the light from the torches along the wall, and then his gaze softened. “I have no answers to give you, only more questions and for those I believe I must seek out Mithrandir.” They nodded, wondering what questions he had and, more importantly, what answers Gandalf would give him.

“Can you at least tell us why you wanted to know about how we arrived?” Rebecca asked.

Elrond gave her a kind smile, “Mostly it is curiosity, Rebecca. I have never heard of a story like yours and it puzzles me on many levels. I am quite old,” Glorfindel snorted softly and Elrond glared at him briefly before turning back to Rebecca, “and to hear of something new and unknown to me is intriguing and I feel compelled to try and find an answer. Whether I am able to do so is another matter.”

Rebecca sighed softly, “Thank you, my lord, for explaining your reasons, it helps to know.” Thomas nodded his agreement.

“You are quite welcome, forgive me for causing you both such concern over this, it was not my intent. I sometimes get so caught up in my own thoughts that I do not realize how others may perceive me or the questions I am asking them,” Elrond said and this time Glorfindel laughed quietly. Thomas looked at him and saw that his eyes were sparkling with amusement and affection as he looked at Elrond. Glancing back at Elrond, Thomas noticed that he was not paying the least bit of attention to Glorfindel and somehow Thomas knew that this was a long standing matter between the two elves.

Smiling inwardly at the thought of the two elf-lords, especially Elrond who seemed so serious, having some type of a long running joke between them, Thomas asked Elrond, “Are you ready to go, my lord?” At his nod, the four returned to the King’s House and to their own chambers.

0-0-0-0-0

Rebecca had Lothrín wake her just after dawn on the day of the wedding so that she could practice her archery. She had only seen Haldir from a distance the day before as he was in charge of Celeborn and Galadriel’s guards, but she hoped that he might practice his archery in the early morning. If not, she thought that he would be at the wedding and the feast. Slipping into leggings and a tunic Rebecca hurried out to the training field and was disappointed to find it empty. She supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised as it was the day of a big wedding and it was still rather early. Finishing her first quiver of arrows, Rebecca approached the target and looked at it with a critical eye and decided she hadn’t done too badly. She had been gradually increasing her distance and today was the first day she had shot from fifty yards. Still she knew she had a lot of work to do.

“You need to take more time on each shot, Lady Rebecca.”

Rebecca quickly spun around, “Haldir!” she exclaimed with a smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

[“Mae govannen,”] Haldir inclined his head as he greeted her, his icy blue eyes studied Rebecca for a moment and then flicked to the target behind her before resting on her face once more. “Perhaps you need some additional lessons,” he said with just a faint twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

“I can always use the help, Haldir, but I think mostly I just need time. Today was the first day I’ve shot from fifty yards,” she shrugged. “I’ll get better.” Rebecca started pulling her arrows from the target and refilling her quiver, Haldir immediately started helping her which she acknowledged with a small smile.

“You were injured,” he stated and Rebecca nodded. “It must have been quite severe if you are just now shooting from that distance, the war was over three months ago.”

“I almost died,” Rebecca stared off into the distance for a moment before turning her gaze back to him, “in the battle here on the Pelennor. You did warn me, but nothing can prepare you for actually being in a battle.”

“No, it is not possible and I am grieved that you had to experience it.”

“But I’m still alive when so many others are not and I’m very thankful for that,” she said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“I heard of Boromir’s passing.”

“That was… very difficult, Haldir. But so many others died and were wounded, people I didn’t even know and seeing that was so hard too. It was all horrible.”

“Great evil was destroyed,” he reminded her gently, “that would have taken over Middle-earth. The Dark Lord would have killed or made slaves of everyone. The sacrifices of those who died were not in vain, Lady Rebecca.”

Something in Haldir’s voice made Rebecca look at him closely and she thought she saw a glimmer of grief in his eyes. Unconsciously laying her hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him, she asked, “What happened, Haldir?”

Haldir stared down at her for a long moment, his face stern and his eyes almost cold, but Rebecca knew him too well by now to be bothered by it and she just waited for him to speak. “There were also battles in Lothlórien, Lady Rebecca, so even had you stayed, you may not have been safe. We were attacked three times by forces from Dol Guldur, before we were able to go and destroy it. I… we lost many elves during those battles,” he said quietly, his eyes now fully showing his grief for just a moment before becoming impassive once more.

“I’m so sorry, Haldir, I didn’t know. Your brothers! What about Orophin and Rúmil? Are they all right?”

Haldir nodded once, “They both live. Rúmil was wounded in the first attack, but recovered in time to be a part of the attack on Dol Guldur.”

Rebecca sighed in relief and then said quietly, “I’m so glad, Haldir, but I’m sorry that your friends died.” Haldir changed the subject, much to her surprise, but also relief. She was tired of speaking of battles and death, she had done far too much of that in the past six months.

“I see you are betrothed, Lady Rebecca. I assume that Thomas is your intended?” Rebecca nodded with a shy smile. “I wish you much joy, my lady.”

“Thank you, Haldir,” she glanced up at the sun. “That reminds me that I need to go and get ready for breakfast, we have lots of guests and I can’t be late. You do get to come to the wedding, don’t you?” she asked, walking back toward the House with Haldir falling in alongside her.

“Yes, I will be there,” he replied in a tone that Rebecca couldn’t read. It wasn’t until much later that she wondered if he too was grieved over Arwen’s decision to marry a mortal.

0-0-0-0-0

Aragorn adjusted his richly embroidered black tunic one last time before buckling on Andúril and placing his white mantle around his shoulders and pinning it in place with the green elessar brooch. Finally, he took up the Elendilmir and carefully settled it on his brow. Glancing in the mirror one last time, he took a deep breath and walked into his sitting room where Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir awaited him. Aragorn moved right to Elrond, searching the grey eyes that were so like his own, hoping to see love and approval, but fearing to see only grief and pain. What he found in his Adar’s eyes was love and he sighed inwardly in relief.

[“Ion-nín,”] Elrond said quietly, his hands gently grasping Aragorn’s shoulders as he regarded him steadily. [“Long have you awaited this day and your journey has been arduous. May the Valar bless you,”] he paused briefly and glanced away for a moment, [“and may you and Arwen know much joy.”] Elrond looked at Aragorn’s crown with a frown and then smiled slightly and kissed him lightly on the cheek instead before embracing him firmly for a long moment.

[“Thank you, Adar,”] Aragorn whispered hoarsely in his ear. Released from the embrace, he turned to his brothers. Elladan was watching him and Elrond, but Elrohir was staring into the garden. Aragorn gazed at Elrohir with concern, but moved to Elladan. The elf had an unreadable expression and he embraced Aragorn, saying simply, [“Enjoy this day, Muindor nín and all the days ahead of you.”]

[“I will, Elladan, thank you.”] Aragorn hesitated briefly before crossing to Elrohir and he laid his hand on the elf’s shoulder and Elrohir looked up with a small smile that surprised Aragorn.

Elrohir swiftly looked him up and down, [“You look very regal, Muindor nín. Are you nervous?”]

[“Yes, of course,”] Aragorn smiled faintly. [“Excited, but nervous.”]

[“I have heard it disappears as soon as the bride appears,”] Elrohir shrugged gracefully, [“but I do not know if that is true. In any case, the ceremony is not very long and you have been in many situations that are much more difficult than this one.”]

[“But none as important!”] Aragorn said, laughing, his eyes sparkling.

[“No, none as important,”] he agreed with a small smile. [“Be well, Estel, be full of joy as you take Arwen to wife this day.”] Elrohir’s eyes glimmered briefly with unshed tears, but he quickly blinked them away.

Aragorn embraced him firmly, [“Thank you, Elrohir,”] he whispered, [“thank you.”] Elrohir nodded. Stepping away from him, Aragorn gazed one more time at his brothers and his Adar and with a slight bow, a deep breath, he left to join Halbarad while the three elves went to see to Arwen.

0-0-0-0-0

Hundreds of people filled the Citadel courtyard dressed in their finest and talking in whispers as they waited for the bride to appear. Aragorn saw and heard none of them as he stood near the White Tree with Halbarad at his side and Gandalf behind him. He did not hear the elves that were singing and filling the air with pure, beautiful melodies. He did not see or smell the flowers that servants had painstakingly placed all around the Citadel to add fragrance and color to the stark white that surrounded him. His sole attention was riveted on the door of the tower. Moments before, he had walked slowly down the aisle from the White Tower between the rows of his rangers and now he waited for Arwen to do the same. Slightly behind Halbarad and along the aisle stood Rebecca, Thomas, Legolas, Gimli, and the four Hobbits along with Faramir, Prince Imrahil and his family. Elladan, Elrohir, Celeborn, Galadriel, and the rest of the elves were standing directly opposite them. Drawing in a sharp breath, Aragorn finally saw the tower door open and Arwen and Elrond step outside, pausing for a moment before descending the five steps to the courtyard. Ignoring Elrond and the regal, dark green robes he wore, Aragorn only had eyes for his beloved. Arwen’s gown was a pale lavender color with embroidery around the hems and delicate beadwork that sparkled in the sun. Their eyes never left each other as she made her way down the aisle.

When she arrived at his side, Aragorn gave Arwen a long, searching look, the enormity of her sacrifice hitting him once again. Arwen returned his regard with a soft smile and inclined her head imperceptibly and he released the breath he was not even aware he had been holding. Gandalf softly cleared his throat and they turned to find him looking at them with a mixture of love and amusement. The wizard looked out at the crowd and announced, “You are here to bear witness to and celebrate the marriage vows of King Aragorn Elessar Telcontar to his beloved bride, Arwen daughter of Elrond, Lord of Imladris.” Gandalf looked at Halbarad, who was representing Aragorn’s father, and Elrond, who was actually taking the place of Arwen’s mother, and they stepped forward, turning Aragorn and Arwen to face each other once again. Halbarad took Aragorn’s hand and gently placed it in Arwen’s hand that Elrond was holding. Then, their voices very quiet as the words were meant only for Aragorn and Arwen to hear, Elrond asked for Elbereth’s blessing on their marriage and then Halbarad asked the same of Manwë, greatest of the Valar. Finished, the two of them stepped back, Halbarad lightly grasping Aragorn’s shoulder as he did so.

Aragorn smiled at Arwen, moved by this elvish addition to their ceremony and he could read in her eyes that she was as well. Gandalf held out their two gold wedding rings with a smile. “I believe the two of you have been betrothed for a fair number of years,” light laughter rippled through their family and friends. “It is time now to exchange your betrothal rings with which you pledged yourself to one another long ago for your wedding rings in token of the vows you speak today. Arwen and Aragorn exchanges small, secret smiles as neither of them had worn the silver rings throughout the long years of their betrothal. Times had been too uncertain and so many things had stood in their way that while they had exchanged the rings, both had been left in Arwen’s care. She had given him his ring last night and so now they carefully removed each other’s silver bands, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

Turning serious, Aragorn picked up Arwen’s gold ring and clasped it tightly in his hand as he gazed at her, waiting for Gandalf to speak. “Aragorn son of Arathorn and Gilraen, King Elessar Telcontar of Gondor and Arnor, you have chosen to take Arwen of Imladris to wife. Do you do this full willing, in joy and delight in her and in your choosing?”

“Yes, yes I do,” Aragorn answered in a strong, clear voice, his eyes staring intently into Arwen’s.

“Arwen daughter of Elrond and Celebrían of Imladris, you have chosen to take Aragorn Elessar Telcontar of Gondor and Arnor to husband. Do you do this full willing, in joy and delight in him and in your choosing?”

Arwen’s voice was rich and pure, “I do indeed choose him,” she replied, returning Aragorn’s look in full.

“So be it, exchange the rings,” Gandalf directed and Aragorn and Arwen each slipped the rings on the right index finger of their beloved. Aragorn held her hand gently when they were finished, glancing at Gandalf who nodded once and then took both of their shoulders and turned them to face the assembled people. “In light of their spoken vows, Aragorn Elessar Telcontar and Arwen are bound together now, bound in body and spirit, to rejoice with one another, to grieve with one another, to care for one another and to allow one another freedom, to argue and make up with one another from this day forth until death alone breaks this bond. Do all agree?” Gandalf looked out at the people.

Loud cries of approval burst forth across the courtyard and echoing sounds came back up from the streets below. When the noise died down, Gandalf continued. “May Eru bless you and strengthen you each day of your life together.” The wizard smiled, “I believe you may kiss your wife, Aragorn.”

Aragorn did indeed kiss his wife, deeply and thoroughly, pushing all thoughts of the watching people completely aside as he did so and she responded in the same fashion. Smiling slightly as he released her, he became aware once again of the crowd and his duty and he sighed inwardly at the thought, wishing for a brief moment that he could simply be Estel and at home in Imladris with her. Pushing those thoughts away he turned back to Gandalf, “Thank you, [mellon nín.”] Gandalf inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I believe there is crown for my beloved queen to wear,” Aragorn said. Gandalf turned and took the one that Thomas had been holding throughout the ceremony and handed to Aragorn a delicate, intricately interwoven mithril crown that had small blue sapphires around it with a larger stone set in the front. [“Meleth-nín, as my wife, you are now the Queen of Gondor and Arnor as well and as there is not a special ceremony to mark that, it seemed to me that this was an appropriate time to give you this.”] Aragorn smiled and carefully placed the crown on her brow, taking the time to brush a few stray hairs off of her face and tuck them behind her ears as he did so.

[“Beloved,”] Arwen said in a low, warning tone, though she was smiling, [“now is not the time to do that.”]

Aragorn simply grinned and gave her a slight nod. He took Arwen’s hand and they walked slowly back down the aisle towards the tower, smiling and nodding at those they knew as they passed. He noted that Halbarad actually had a genuine smile on his face, as did most of his rangers, which was unusual to see in the normally grim-faced men. But Aragorn knew how much this meant to them, it meant more to them then to all but their family. He knew that many of them had been worried that he would never get married and that the line of the kings would end with him. To see their former chieftain and now king married was reassuring to them.

Guards at the tower opened the door for them and as the door closed, they knew they had a few brief minutes alone before their families and close friends joined them in the hall while they waited for the guests to move to Merethrond for the wedding feast. Quickly drawing Arwen away from the door Aragorn embraced her, his strong arms pulling her close. Arwen wrapped her arms around his neck pulling his head down and kissing him tenderly for a moment. [“My husband,”] she breathed out softly, kissing him once again. [“Long have I desired to say those words, Estel.”]

[“Not as long as I have desired to hear them,”] Aragorn said with a small laugh, referring to the fact that he had loved her from the day he had first seen her at the age of twenty while she had not returned his love for another thirty years. Arwen smiled in return and then the sound of the door opening caused a look of regret in both of their eyes as they released each other and turned to greet those closest to them.

0-0-0

Rebecca and Thomas walked at the end of the line of family and friends heading into the tower having lagged slightly behind to let their elders go first… which was everyone. Rangers fell in behind them as they passed and Thomas smiled at Hinluin who grinned in return. He hadn’t seen his friend for a week and hoped to do so in the next few days after the excitement of the wedding had passed.

“Thomas,” Rebecca whispered, “was that a normal wedding? I know they added some elvish parts, but it seemed so….,” her voice trailed off uncertain of how to explain what she meant.

“Well, it was quite a bit different than what Faramir explained to me. But I don’t know if it was the elvish things or the fact that he’s the king or what,” he shrugged. “Faramir told me they used colored cords to actually bind hands together to symbolize that you’re now bound to one another, things like that.”

Rebecca shook her head slowly, “It will be different,” she murmured. Thomas nodded as they mounted the steps and entered the tower blinking as their eyes adjusted to the dimness after the bright sunshine. Aragorn and Arwen were surrounded by elves so they waited patiently a short distance away. “This part is the same as every wedding I’ve ever been to,” Rebecca whispered and Thomas grinned in response. The elves finally moved away and Thomas and Rebecca approached the newly married couple hesitantly, almost shy in the face of the change that had just taken place in the life of the man they both cared for as a father.

Aragorn gazed at them with his head tilted slightly in question as he examined them and then he smiled. “I have not changed,” he said softly, glancing sidelong at Arwen who smiled and squeezed his hand. “I have only added someone precious to my life.”

“I know, Aragorn, I’m just not sure what to say. I-I… may you both be very happy together,” Rebecca said. She paused and looked at Arwen, “You look beautiful, Lady Arwen.”

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Arwen smiled graciously. “However, I would ask that you and Thomas simply call me Arwen now that Estel and I are married.” She moved her gaze from Rebecca to Thomas, “I do not think there should be such formality within our own household.”

Rebecca nodded and smiled shyly, “That will be nice, Arwen, thank you.”

“All right, A-arwen,” Thomas stuttered slightly, glancing at Aragorn who gave him a faint smile. “Congratulations to both of you, it was a really nice wedding and I know you’ll be happy. You certainly had to wait long enough and I know how hard that is.”

Aragorn and Arwen both laughed quietly. “Yes, we have waited longer than most, Thomas,” Aragorn said with a small smile, “and if you are making that comment to get your own wedding moved up, I assure you it will not help.”

“I would never do that,” he protested with a grin.

“I am sure not,” Aragorn responded dryly. He glanced at Faramir who was standing a short distance away and beckoned him forward.

“My Lord King, the Master of Protocol has informed me that all is in readiness for the celebration and that the guests are seated awaiting you and our Lady Queen’s arrival,” Faramir said with a smile at Arwen.

“Thank you, my lord.” Aragorn turned his gaze back to Rebecca and Thomas and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Are you ready to lead us?”

“Yes, Adar,” Rebecca replied, “though I still think that it would be more appropriate if Faramir or Prince Imrahil were leading the procession.”

“I am afraid that I must disagree with you, Lady Rebecca,” Faramir said, gazing down at her, amusement in his eyes. “The Master of Protocol is correct and it is most proper to have you and Thomas lead the way.”

“No one will be looking at us anyway, they’ll all be looking at the elves and waiting for Aragorn and Arwen to come in,” Thomas said with a small shrug. “They’ve seen us before.”

“I noticed yesterday that the people were very curious about us,” Arwen commented. “But I know it has been many lives of men since elves have been in Minas Tirith.”

“Many of our people did not even believe that elves existed, meleth-nín,” Aragorn explained, “though I think they do now,” he smiled. “Come, Thomas and Rebecca the Master is looking rather impatient and I would like to start the celebration,” he gently caressed Arwen’s hand that lay on his arm.

With a small nod from Thomas and a quiet, resigned sigh from Rebecca the wedding party left the White Tower, crossing the Citadel courtyard and entering the great feasting hall of Minas Tirith.

0-0-0

Unlike the coronation feast, Aragorn was looking forward to the dancing at his wedding celebration now that Arwen would be in his arms. As he waited for the music to start, Aragorn glanced around the room, smiling as he saw Pippin laughing with other members of the Fellowship at the table they were sharing with Haldir and his brothers. The thought of Haldir sitting with Gimli had amused him and he had asked the Master of Protocol to seat them together.

[“What causes your smile?”] Arwen whispered, grasping his hand under the table.

Aragorn leaned over and spoke softly into her ear, [“I should say I was thinking of you, meleth-nín, but truthfully, I was watching Haldir sitting at the table with Gimli. I fear I was unkind to the Captain and his brothers, though they seem to be getting along well enough.”]

[“Why would they not? Haldir is an honorable elf and would be respectful to even a dwarf.”]

[“Yes, of course, but I will have to tell you of their first meeting,”] Aragorn’s eyes glinted with amusement.

[“I look forward to the telling… but not tonight, beloved.”]

[“No, perhaps it would be best shared at another time,”] Aragorn agreed with a small smile as he straightened up in his chair. [“We have to dance the first dance, Arwen.”]

[“I am aware of the custom, though it seems strange to me. Not that I mind, it is long since I danced with you.”]

Aragorn furrowed his brow in thought, [“I do not even remember the last time we had a proper dance, meleth-nín,”] he confessed.

Arwen smiled softly, [“I do. It was Mettarë twelve years ago and you had stopped in Imladris for a brief rest on your way back to the Angle. You had been in the east on some errand for Mithrandir.”]

[“I remember that now,”] Aragorn nodded, smiling faintly in remembrance. [“It was the last time I spent more than two days at home until I returned with Frodo last fall.”] He looked away from Arwen as the musicians took their places and then he glanced back at her, [“Will you dance with me, my lady wife?”]

[“I will, my lord husband,”] Arwen stood, taking Aragorn’s outstretched hand as he led her down off the dais and down between the tables to the dance floor. With Aragorn’s nod at the musicians, the King and Queen had their first dance with the eyes of the assembled guests watching intently, though they had eyes only for each other.

0-0-0

As Aragorn and Arwen’s dance was ending, Thomas took a deep, steadying breath and turned hesitantly to Rebecca. “Will you dance the next dance with me?”

She looked at him in surprise, “You told me you didn’t know how to dance.”

“I’ve been learning,” he said with a sheepish smile. “I didn’t want to get to our wedding and not know how to dance. Aragorn found someone to teach me.”

Elrohir leaned around Rebecca, “I believe you were jealous of Estel during the coronation celebration when he was able to dance with Rebecca and all you could do was watch.” The elf’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at Thomas.

Thomas blushed slightly, but otherwise ignored the teasing elf and held out his hand to Rebecca who took it with a smile and followed him out to the dance floor where many of the guests were now gathering. Licking his lips in concentration, Thomas looked down at his feet as he placed one arm around Rebecca’s waist and griped her other hand tightly.

“Thomas,” Rebecca said softly, “look at me and not your feet and you’ll be fine.” Rebecca could hear him whispering numbers to himself and then he finally looked up.

“Maybe I should have asked you to dance at a smaller celebration than this one,” he whispered nervously just as the music started. However his feet seemed to remember the steps well enough as they automatically fell into the correct pattern and he led Rebecca somewhat smoothly into the dance and he gave her a relieved smile.

“I think this is a wonderful time to have our first dance, the only better time would be our own wedding, but now that I know you can dance we’ll have lots more fun at any of the other feasts we have to go to.”

“I suppose it might be more fun than sitting around talking and it is definitely more fun than watching you dance with other men.”

“So Elrohir was right,” Rebecca said with a small laugh as they continued to move about the floor.

“Not about Aragorn,” Thomas said with a scowl, “but you didn’t just dance with him that night, you also danced with Erchirion, Amrothos, and Elphir.”

“And with Legolas, and Faramir. I thought Elrohir was just teasing, but you really were jealous, Thomas, weren’t you?”

Thomas looked away briefly, “I suppose I was,” he admitted. “It was hard watching other men holding you and you having a good time with them.”

“It’s a good thing you’re learning to dance then, because I enjoy it,” Rebecca said, her eyes studying him intently.

“I know you do,” he said softly, “that’s one of the other reasons I’m learning,” Thomas smiled down at her. The two were quiet as the dance continued and when the music ended, Thomas gave a small sigh of relief as he led Rebecca back towards the head table. They were intercepted, however, by Aragorn and Arwen who were heading back for the next dance.

“The two of you dance well together,” Aragorn said, “Thomas you have learned quickly.” Thomas inclined his head in acknowledgment. “I was wondering if Rebecca would dance with me and perhaps Thomas you would dance with Arwen.”

Smiling, Rebecca nodded while Thomas just stared at Aragorn in disbelief and then slowly began shaking his head. “I can’t Aragorn,” he whispered. “I barely know the steps and I just can’t do it,” he glanced at Arwen who was gazing at him with an expression he couldn’t read, but he thought it might be compassion. “I’m sorry, Arwen.” Thomas turned back to Aragorn to see that he looked more apologetic than upset and he sighed inwardly in relief. “I’ll escort Arwen back to the table and talk with her though,” he offered, trying to salvage something of the awkward situation. Aragorn glanced at Arwen who nodded and taking Rebecca’s arm, he led her to the dance floor. Shifting nervously on his feet Thomas looked at Arwen as he repeated his earlier words, “I’m sorry, Arwen.”

“You do not need to apologize, Thomas, as I am not offended,” Arwen replied as they returned to the table, moving to the seats at the end where Thomas had been sitting with Rebecca and Elrohir, though the elf had disappeared.

“It’s just that I’ve only been learning to dance for about a month and it was hard enough just trying to dance with Rebecca because I don’t know how to do it very well and I didn’t want to make a fool out of myself trying to dance with you and…” Thomas stopped his rambling when Arwen laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Be at peace, Thomas, there is no need for you to explain and watching Estel dance is a new experience for me.” Thomas looked at her closely to see if she were serious and found that Arwen was watching Aragorn and Rebecca intently. “He will be a good father,” she murmured.

“He already is,” Thomas responded without thinking and then blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Arwen, it’s not my place to say things like that to you.” He stared down at his hands, wishing he could be anyplace else than where he was right now.

“Forgive me, Thomas, for I spoke without thinking. Of course, Estel is a father to you and Rebecca.” Thomas jerked his head up at Arwen’s words and saw sincere regret in her eyes. “I know it will be different for you now that I am here,” she continued quietly, “but I do hope that in time we might become friends.”

“I’m sure we will, Arwen,” Thomas gazed out over the dancers again.

“Do you enjoy the things you do here?”

“Most of them, I like working with Aragorn and learning how the kingdom runs, it’s a lot different than I ever thought it would be. But I don’t enjoy having a tutor and lessons even though I see the need for it.” Thomas gave her a rueful smile, “I never have liked school very much.”

Arwen smiled in return, “It was not something I enjoyed either, though I had wonderful teachers. My father, Glorfindel, Erestor…,”

Thomas interrupted her, “Erestor is going to be teaching Rebecca and me history while he’s here.” He frowned and let out a resigned sigh.

“He is a wonderful teacher, Thomas, though I preferred more creative pursuits such as drawing, music, and embroidery.”

“You like to draw?” Arwen nodded. “Do you paint?”

“I tried it when I was much younger, but it was never something I enjoyed as much as drawing and sketching. Is that something you enjoy?”

“I’m just learning. I’d never done it before, but when we first got here Aragorn saw me looking at the murals in the dining room and suggested I try it. I really like it,” Thomas smiled down at his hands.

“Estel often sees into the hearts of people,” Arwen said softly.

Thomas nodded, “He’s the one that first thought Rebecca should be a healer, though later Lady Galadriel thought so too.” He glanced up as the music ended, smiling at Rebecca as she and Aragorn made their way back to the head table. Thomas stood as they arrived, “Here, Rebecca you can sit down.”

“Arwen and I will return to our own seats, Thomas,” Aragorn lightly clapped him on the back. “Thank you for keeping Arwen company while I danced with Rebecca.”

“Oh, umm you’re welcome, maybe at the next celebration I’ll actually be able to dance with her instead of just talking with her,” he replied glancing at Arwen who smiled graciously.

“Perhaps,” Aragorn smiled faintly as he drew Arwen to her feet. “Enjoy the rest of the evening and if we do not speak with you again, we will see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Thomas, I quite enjoyed speaking with you,” Arwen said as they walked away. Thomas nodded and then sank back down into his chair next to Rebecca, relieved that that was over, but finding that he also had enjoyed speaking with Arwen - once he had gotten over his initial nervousness.

0-0-0

Leaning back in his chair and taking occasional sips of wine, Aragorn watched as Arwen danced with Elrond. As he considered the events of the day, he thought that his family had done remarkably well at making this a special day for both Arwen and himself. He knew they were grieving and he knew he could not relieve them of that pain, nor did they want him to attempt to do so, yet it did not stop him from wishing that things could have been different. Elladan and Elrohir had taken their leave of him and Arwen a short time ago and he assumed they had returned to their rooms or were out walking under the stars on this wonderful summer evening. As soon as Elrond returned with Arwen, he thought that it would be time for them to take their leave as well.

Gazing around the room, Aragorn noticed that Faramir was engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation with Glorfindel and Erestor. Evidently his Steward had gotten over his uneasiness about speaking with elves he thought with amusement. Rebecca and Thomas had joined the table where the Fellowship members had been seated. Thomas was talking with Frodo and Sam, though Frodo was again doing more listening than speaking Aragorn noticed with a worried frown. Legolas, Merry, Pippin, and Gimli were laughing about something and opposite them Rebecca was speaking quietly with Haldir. Aragorn watched the two for a moment, realizing, with a bit of surprise, that Rebecca and Haldir had built at least a level of friendship during her time in Lothlórien. He had assumed that their relationship had only been that of teacher and student, but he had known Haldir for years and he could tell that the elf was enjoying his conversation with Rebecca; that he wasn’t just talking to her out of a sense of obligation. Aragorn smiled slightly at the thought of Haldir having any type of friendship with a young mortal girl, it struck him in the same way as the relationship between Legolas and Gimli often did, extremely unusual, but nonetheless very real.

Aragorn heard the music drawing to a close and his attention shifted back to Arwen and Elrond. They had actually stopped dancing and stood on the outer edge of the dance floor and were speaking quietly to each other. Resisting the urge to go and join them, he just watched thoughtfully as Elrond imparted whatever words of wisdom he was giving to his daughter. As the music ended, Elrond leaned down and kissed Arwen on both cheeks before leading her back to the high table. Standing as the two elves approached, Aragorn bowed slightly to Elrond and then quietly asked Arwen, [“Are you ready to leave, meleth-nín? I believe that we have stayed long enough at the celebration to satisfy custom and may leave at any time.”]

[“I am ready, Estel,”]Arwen said with a small smile on her lips.

Returning her smile, Aragorn turned to Elrond, [“With your leave, Adar, we will wish you a good night and will see you tomorrow.”]

Elrond looked at Aragorn for a long moment and then a slight smile played across his lips, [“I do not believe that you need my leave to depart, ion-nín, though I readily give it to you. Good night.]”

With another slight bow to Elrond, Aragorn took Arwen’s hand, placing it on his arm and the two of them began making their way from the room. Pausing at the bottom of the dais, Aragorn looked across the still crowded room and made a quick decision, turning away from the main entrance he led Arwen back behind the dais to where the storerooms and kitchens were located and where he knew other, smaller doors led from the building. He glanced back to make sure that his guards were aware that he was slipping out a different way and were following – they were.

[“Where are you taking me, beloved?”] Arwen asked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

[“I thought we should just slip quietly away and this seems the best way to do that.”] Aragorn paused as they came upon two servants who were obviously taking a break and were sitting on boxes in the hallway they were walking through. Their eyes widened and they jumped to their feet as they saw who was approaching.

“My Lord King Elessar,” one of them said bowing deeply and then added hastily, “and Queen Arwen.” The other servant just stood staring until the first servant pulled at him and then he bowed as well. “How may we serve you?” the first servant asked.

“If you would show us to the nearest door, your queen and I would be most grateful,” Aragorn said with a smile.

“Of course, my Lord King, but do you mean the main door back into the feasting hall or a door to the outside?” he asked hesitantly.

“To the outside,” Aragorn responded quickly, glancing at Arwen who was watching him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Yes, my Lord King, it’s right this way,” the man started down the hallway and Aragorn and Arwen followed, leaving the other servant behind shaking his head. Quickly reaching a door that opened into the courtyard, the servant held it open for his king and queen and bowed as they walked outside.

“Thank you for your help,” Arwen said with a smile, “It was very much appreciated.”

“Y-you’re welcome, Queen Arwen,” the man said, bowing once again before turning and disappearing back inside the building.

Aragorn chuckled as the man disappeared and then glanced down at Arwen, his eyes twinkling as they began to stroll across the courtyard to the King’s House, [“It is a good thing that we have gotten married so quickly, meleth-nín, otherwise I believe you would have many men in this city seeking after you. That is if they could stop stuttering in your presence.”] Aragorn caressed Arwen’s hand that lay on his arm as he continued to laugh under his breath.

[“I seem to remember a certain young ranger that did much the same when first we met.”]

[“I was never that bad,”] Aragorn protested, though the smile that crossed his lips belied his words. [“I was so young, Arwen,”] he murmured as they entered the House and turned left towards his… their chambers. Aragorn wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him now that they were out of the public eye and only guards could see them.

[“You were,”] she agreed softly, [“but you have matured much since that time.”]

Aragorn opened the door to their chambers allowing Arwen to precede him into the sitting room, he nodded at Laegrist and Alvist who had guard duty that night and they both smiled slightly, before he followed her. He leaned against the door, watching Arwen as she walked around their large sitting room, looking at her new home. A place that would be her refuge from the outside world for at least the next hundred years, if not more, he knew that he could easily live to be well over two hundred years unless he was killed in battle. Aragorn had added small personal touches to the room since he had moved into it two months ago. Things he knew Arwen would like that he had found in the shops and markets on his infrequent trips to the lower circles with Rebecca and Thomas and even once with Halbarad. Finally he quietly asked, [“Are you pleased, meleth-nín? If not, things may be changed to whatever you desire.”]

Arwen turned to him and smiled, [“I see the things that you have added, Estel.”] She lightly fingered a small clear crystal dish that had streaks of colors running randomly through the glass and Aragorn nodded, not really surprised that she had picked it out as something that he had purchased for her. [“It is a good room and I will add my own things and perhaps get rid of a few of these statues. I brought things with me from Imladris.”]



Chapter 31 - Family

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Reader – J.

[…] are used to indicate conversations in elvish and individual elvish words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 31 – Family

From his chair to the left of Elessar, but well back from the table of councilors, Thomas listened as Lord Nestor droned on about the need to increase taxes to repair the damage to Minas Tirith. He wasn’t sure if Nestor was right or not, though he didn’t really think so, but he did know that Nestor could easily have made his point in two minutes instead of dragging it out for the ten minutes he had been speaking for so far. Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his chair drawing the attention of Halbarad who gave him a half smile which he returned before staring down at the parchment he was supposed to be taking notes on. Elessar listened with an impassive expression, his eyes moving to Faramir as the Steward interrupted Nestor’s monologue.

“The people of Gondor cannot afford to pay additional taxes at this time, Lord Nestor. They are struggling to survive and I predict that the coming winter will find many of our people, especially those in some of the outlying areas, close to starvation. The city of Minas Tirith will have to deal with our own problems and allow those towns and villages scattered across our land to do the same. Though,” he added thoughtfully, ”I think that we need to help those towns and villages if we are able to, my Lord King.”

“How do you suggest we deal with our problems, my Lord Prince Steward?” Elessar finally spoke up, looking at Faramir with a question in his eyes.

“We put some of the city guardsmen to work on repairing walls and buildings and other things that need to be repaired,” Faramir replied promptly. “We need those men in uniform and available should war come upon us unlooked for, but they also need to be kept busy. Also, I suggest that Lord Húrin look at the food we have in storage for the soldiers and see how long it will last at regular rations and then we need to proceed from there. I realize it is just two days past mid-summer, my Lord King, yet we need to think ahead to winter…,” A quiet knock on the door interrupted Faramir and he paused. Elessar scowled in annoyance, gesturing for Thomas to handle the interruption and motioning for Faramir to continue.

Thomas slipped out of the council chamber and was surprised to see Aragorn’s secretary in the hallway looking unusually flustered. Though he supposed it could be because he had just interrupted the council meeting which was rarely, if ever, done.

“Forgive me, Lord Thomas, but one of the rangers said he has an urgent message for the King and that it must be delivered immediately.”

“Where is it?”

“He says he must give it to the King personally.”

Thomas frowned in concern, wondering what could be so important that the ranger didn’t even trust Aragorn’s secretary. Well, perhaps the man would trust him. “Where is this ranger? Maybe he’ll give it to me.”

“He is in the office, my lord,” the secretary started down the hall and turned into Aragorn’s office.

Thomas started in surprise because the man standing there was not one of Aragorn’s rangers as he had assumed, but one of the Ithilien Rangers and he was covered with sweat and dust and had obviously traveled far and in a great hurry. The secretary introduced him. “Lord Thomas, this is Tathor. Captain Mablung sent him with the message.” Tathor bowed and Thomas inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“I know Captain Mablung,” Thomas acknowledged. “You have a message for the King?” Tathor nodded. “I’ll see that he gets it.” He held out his hand, waiting for the young ranger to give him the message he was holding.

“I was told to give it directly to the King, my lord,” Tathor said, shaking his head.

“He’s in a council meeting and I doubt it will be finished for several more hours,” Thomas replied, eyeing him closely and seeing a flicker of desperation cross the ranger’s face.

“This is important, my lord. Isn’t there some way I can speak with him sooner?”

“Can you at least tell me what the message is about before I interrupt the King?”

Tathor hesitated and then said, “Orcs, my lord.”

Thomas gave him a grim look and then nodded, “Follow me, Tathor.” He walked quickly back down the hallway and motioned for the ranger to wait while he quietly entered the room and crossed to Elessar and stood silently beside him until he was acknowledged. The room had fallen silent when Elessar looked up at Thomas questioningly and he leaned down and spoke quietly for the King’s ears only. “There is a ranger from Ithilien outside with a message from Captain Mablung and he will only give it to you. All he will tell me is that it’s about orcs, but I thought you should get it immediately or I can have him wait in your office.” Thomas suddenly hoped he had made the right decision by interrupting the meeting.

Elessar stood abruptly. “Excuse me, my lords, but something has come up that requires my immediate attention. Prince Faramir, Prince Imrahil, Lord Halbarad, I need you to come with me,” he turned to the door and Thomas sighed quietly in relief. Elessar glanced at him sharply, but said nothing as he left the chamber. “You have a message for me,” Elessar demanded of the young ranger standing in the hallway.

“Yes, my Lord King,” Tathor replied, handing him the sealed parchment.

“Come.” Elessar carefully broke open the seal as he strode to his office, scanning the message on the way. He handed it to Faramir to read who then passed it on to Imrahil and then Halbarad. Leaning on his desk the King fixed his eyes on the ranger, “Do you know what this message says…,” he paused, realizing he did not know the man’s name.

“Tathor, my Lord King, and yes, Captain Mablung had me read it before I left.”

“Do you have anything to add?”

Tathor shook his head, “No, my lord.”

“All right, go and eat and get some rest before I send you back to Ithilien. Thomas, have one of the pages take him down to the guard barracks and send another page for the Captain of the City Guard.” Thomas nodded and led Tathor from the office. Aragorn looked at the three men that remained. “Where would a hundred and fifty orcs have come from?”

“You know there are many places up in those mountains to hide and if Mablung says there are that many orcs denned up there, then I trust him, my lord,” Faramir said.

“I trust him too, Faramir. I just wonder how they have hidden there for so long,” Aragorn replied, glancing at Thomas as he slipped back into the office. He shook his head, “I suppose it does not matter how, we just need to get rid of them.”

“How many men are at Henneth Annûn now?” Halbarad asked. Aragorn looked at Faramir.

“One hundred fifty rangers are stationed there, but not all of them are there at any given time. They patrol all the way down to the Crossroads and north to the Morannon. I doubt if Mablung could spare more than,” Faramir paused briefly, “eighty men to chase down this nest of orcs and still leave his other areas protected.”

“That is not enough, not if we want to ensure we kill all of the orcs and to spare as many of our men as possible,” Imrahil said.

Aragorn nodded, “Are the men stationed at Cair Andros your rangers, Faramir?”

“No, mostly city guardsmen, though I am sure that there are a few rangers.”

“What about your White Company men? Are those mostly rangers?”

Faramir smiled, “Yes, my lord. For some reason, many of them are indeed former rangers that transferred into the White Company.”

“Are they here with you in the city or are they out at Emyn Arnen where your new house is being built?”

“I would hardly call that mansion my nephew is building a simple house, my Lord King,” Imrahil said with a faint smile.

Faramir looked at Imrahil for a moment, “I am merely trying to keep up with the standard set by the other Prince of Gondor.” Aragorn cleared his throat and the two princes turned their attention back to him and the King raised his eyebrow in question. “Most of the White Company is at Emyn Arnen, my Lord King. The builders need to be protected and since Beregond cannot be in the city, it seemed best to have him oversee things there for me for a short time. There are eighty-five men there and fifteen men here in Minas Tirith.”

“Would one hundred sixty-five men be enough to handle the orcs?” Aragorn looked around at his three advisors.

“That should be sufficient,” Imrahil said quietly, glancing sidelong at Faramir.

“Faramir, will you allow your White Company to join with Mablung and fight under his command?” Aragorn asked.

“What? Of course, my Lord King, my men are always at your command,” Faramir looked at his King in surprise.

“Thank you, but they are your men and I do not intend to usurp your authority over them, just as I would never do so with Imrahil’s Swan Knights.” Faramir nodded as Aragorn continued, “Then if you would, write a message to Beregond and explain what is happening and where he needs to lead his men to meet up with Mablung.”

“What about these builders of Faramir’s? How will you protect them?” Halbarad asked.

“I will send city guardsmen to Emyn Arnen, that is something they can do, but I believe that Mablung needs rangers to go in after orcs in those mountains. I will notify the Captain of the City Guard to prepare his men so that they may depart as soon as possible.”

“You need to let Mablung know you are sending help,” Faramir reminded him.

“Tathor will ride out with a message in a few hours. Is there anything else we should do?” No one spoke. “Good, come and see me if you think of something else. Thomas, please stay for a moment.” The three men left quietly and Aragorn watched them leave before turning his eyes on Thomas. “You were concerned that you made a mistake about informing me of the message.”

“Yes, I got nervous just as I was speaking with you. I suddenly thought maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do and I wondered if the message was really that important, even though I know that Captain Mablung is your top ranger.”

“He is and I assume that that is why you made the decision that you did.” Thomas nodded. “Then do not second guess yourself, Thomas. Even if it turned out that the message was not as important as it appeared, you still made the right decision.” Aragorn straightened up from the desk and walked behind it to sit in his chair. “You made your decision based on the information you had, which is all you can ever do. And,” he said dryly, “a council meeting, as important and exciting as they are, can almost always be interrupted. Though, do not tell my secretary that,” he added with a smile.

Thomas grinned and left Aragorn’s office to return to his own work.

0-0-0

Rebecca’s book was lying in her lap, but she wasn’t reading it. Instead she stared blankly out over the low wall of the balcony off of the sitting room, lost in thought. The past week had been so different than the life she had become accustomed to. Aragorn’s marriage, all of the elves living in the house, and having Erestor as a tutor all contributed to making her feel slightly unsettled. All of Aragorn’s family was in the garden and while Rebecca knew they would probably welcome her, she felt she didn’t really belong there and that they would enjoy their time together as a family. Absently flipping the pages of the book, she thought about going to see if Merry or Pippin were home. Maybe they could go down to the lower circles and shop or go to an inn or maybe she could just visit with them.

“Rebecca?” A quiet voice startled her from her thoughts and she looked up and behind her to see Arwen standing in the doorway and she smiled at the elf. “Am I disturbing you?”

“Oh, no, I’m not really doing anything, just sort of thinking about things and reading a little bit,” she held up her book.

“May I join you?”

“Sure,” Rebecca indicated the numerous chairs scattered around the balcony, “of course you can.”

“What are you reading?” Arwen asked as she gracefully settled into a chair near Rebecca.

“Erestor gave me this book about the fall of Gondolin. But he told me not to let Lord Glorfindel see it,” Rebecca frowned down at the book and then looked at Arwen to see her eyes were sparkling with amusement and she was quite obviously trying not to laugh. “Why shouldn’t I show it to him?”

“Has Estel never told you the story of Glorfindel?” Rebecca slowly shook her head. “Then I need to tell you his story.” Arwen paused briefly and then asked, “How much have you read in the book?”

“I know that Gondolin was a hidden city built in the First Age, Gandalf mentioned it a long time ago as we walked through Fangorn Forest. But I learned today that it was ruled by an elf named Turgon and no one went in or out of the city. That’s about all I know. Oh, it sounds like it was a beautiful place.”

“I have also heard that. Glorfindel lived there and he was the Lord of his house, the House of the Golden Flower. He often has small golden flowers stitched on the hems of his tunics for that reason. Glorfindel served King Turgon and his family faithfully for hundreds of years. Turgon had a daughter, Idril, who married a man named Tuor.” Rebecca looked at her in surprise and Arwen smiled gently. “Yes, marriages between men and elves have happened before, Rebecca, they are just very rare. Idril and Tuor had a son named Eärendil. He is my father’s father. When Eärendil was a young elfling the city was attacked by forces of Morgoth and was ultimately destroyed. But during the battle, Glorfindel saved Idril, Tuor, and young Eärendil by battling a balrog…” Rebecca drew in a sharp breath and looked at Arwen in horror and disbelief. Arwen nodded, “Yes, a balrog. While Idril, Tuor, and their son and many others escaped the city, Glorfindel died, though he did manage to slay the balrog as well.”

Rebecca stared at Arwen. “But Lord Glorfindel isn’t dead, he’s downstairs in the garden right now.”

“Yes, he is, Rebecca, but he died that day in Gondolin and went to the Halls of Waiting in Valinor and after a time he was released and re-housed in a new body.” Rebecca rapidly blinked her eyes several times as she took in this information. Arwen leaned over and took her hand. “No one has told you that elves may receive a new body if they die?” Rebecca shook her head. “It does happen, Rebecca, though those elves usually stay in Valinor. Glorfindel is the only elf that has ever returned here.”

“Why? Why did he come back?” Rebecca was still trying to grasp the fact that Glorfindel had once been dead and was now alive again.

“As I said, he had faithfully served his King, Turgon, and my father is one of his descendants. He came back early in the Second Age to serve and protect my father and his family. Glorfindel does not talk about his reasons, and my brothers and I have rarely spoken about it with our Adar, that is really all that we know.” Arwen smiled, “He is just a part of our family.”

Rebecca nodded and looked down at the book in her hands, “That’s why Erestor told me not to let Lord Glorfindel see this,” she murmured. “It must be hard to read about your own death.” She glanced up at Arwen and bit her lip nervously, “Can I ask you a question? It’s not about Lord Glorfindel,” she added hastily.

“You may,” Arwen looked at her expectantly.

“Do you feel any different? I mean, now that you won’t be going to,” she took a deep breath, “Valinor.”

Arwen gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment before staring out over the wall into the distance. Rebecca was just about to apologize for asking such a question when Arwen turned back to her. “Estel has told me of your curiosity,” she began quietly, “and I see it extends to many things.” She paused again, her expression unreadable. “I cannot really describe how I feel, Rebecca. I do feel somewhat different, yet I do not know if it is because I am no longer immortal or because I am married,” Arwen suddenly smiled.

Rebecca returned her smile before turning serious, “I’m sorry for asking you that, Arwen. It probably wasn’t a… an appropriate question to ask you. Aragorn is right, I’m curious about lots of things, but I probably shouldn’t just ask all the questions that come to me.”

“It was a question that would not have been appropriate to ask some people, but I do not mind answering it. It was not something I had considered. I will always try and answer your questions, Rebecca,” Arwen gave her a gentle smile, “but I will also tell you if I feel a question is inappropriate.”

“All right, that seems fair,” Rebecca nodded, relieved that she hadn’t offended Arwen.

“If you do not have anymore questions,” Rebecca quickly shook her head, “would you like to go with me down to the lower circles? I need some things for my sitting room.”

Rebecca hesitated briefly, looking at Arwen carefully before she replied, “That sounds like fun.”

“Good, I am sure that you will know the best places to find what I need,” Arwen said as she stood gracefully. Standing and preparing to follow Arwen from the balcony, Rebecca was surprised when the elf turned and looked down at her. “And, Rebecca I hope you will join us in the garden some afternoon. You are most welcome to do so.”

“I thought that you might like having time to spend with your family, Arwen,” Rebecca looked at the floor for a moment before meeting the elf’s eyes, “and I didn’t want to interfere with that.”

“Interfere?” Arwen sounded genuinely surprised at Rebecca’s comment. “I do want to be with my family and you are part of it,” she said quietly. She paused briefly, glancing out into the distance again before meeting Rebecca’s eyes once more. “I will admit that the time I spend with my Adar is precious to me, Rebecca, and yet I also desire to know more about you and to spend time with you. But both can be done when we are together, if I desire time with my Adar privately, then I will seek him out separately.” Arwen slowly walked into the sitting room before she continued, “I know that the rest of my family would also welcome you, Rebecca and, in any case, this is your home,” she gave Rebecca a small smile, “and if you desire to spend time in your own garden, then you should do so.”

“I do enjoy the garden,” Rebecca admitted, “though mostly I’ve been there in the evenings with Thomas,” she said, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

Arwen laughed softly, “I will admit that I have also enjoyed some evenings in the garden with Estel.”

Rebecca shrugged, “We don’t have to take our guards out there,” she said with a grin, “so it’s the best place to go.” They walked down the stairs, out the door and headed across the courtyard, now being trailed by their guards.

Glancing behind her, Arwen nodded, “I understand. Estel says I will become accustomed to them, but it is difficult for me right now.”

“It takes time, Arwen,” Rebecca murmured. “It took me a couple of months before I was really used to having Maldathor or Gílorn around. You’ll get used to it, you will,” she reached over and patted Arwen’s arm.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Arwen glanced down at Rebecca’s hand and then over at her. “I know that I will, yet just knowing that you can understand how I feel about the guards and living in this city is a comfort to me.”

Rebecca stared at her in disbelief, “Arwen, you are three thousand years old, how can I be any kind of comfort to you?” she asked as they entered the tunnel and started down the ramp to the sixth circle.

“I am not quite three thousand,” Arwen said with a small smile, “and why do you think age has anything to do with being a comfort to someone? You know I have never lived in a city of men before and I am not suggesting that I am in any way fearful, but life is very different for me here and knowing someone, particularly a woman, that has been in the same situation before and can understand what I am feeling is… comforting to me.”

Smiling at the people they passed as they descended into the lower levels of the city, both were quiet for a time. Finally, Rebecca said quietly, “Well, then I’m glad I’ve been here for awhile, Arwen,” she smiled shyly up at the elf before changing the subject. “Now what did you want to buy for your sitting room? This level has most of the best shops.” With an amused sparkle in her eye, Arwen explained what she needed and Rebecca led the way to the first shop.

0-0-0

Leaving the tower to return to the royal apartments after a particularly grueling day, Aragorn paused and took a slight detour when he saw Merry and Pippin leaning against the wall of the Citadel. Both were dressed in their full uniforms and were smoking their pipes as they looked out over the Pelennor. The hobbits glanced up and smiled as he approached. “Captain Peregrin, Sir Meriadoc,” he said with a slight bow and a faint smile as he looked down at them. “You were both on duty today?”

“I stood guard over King Théoden’s body in the Hallows,” Merry responded quietly with a sorrowful expression. Aragorn patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“And I stood guard on the ramp for a few hours and then did some sparring with some of the new recruits,” Pippin said with a grin. “That was fun as they don’t take a hobbit very seriously – at least at first.”

“I am sure they will not make that mistake again,” Aragorn said with an answering grin. “Do either of you have more pipeweed?” he asked, pulling his pipe out from where he had it tucked in his belt. “I fear I used all I had with me today.”

Pippin pulled a pouch from a pocket in his uniform tunic and handed it to Aragorn while Merry looked at the king closely. “You had a rough day,” he observed.

Aragorn shrugged slightly as he filled the bowl of his pipe. “It was,” he admitted. “I was called to the Houses of Healing this morning to help with a severely injured boy that had fallen. He broke several bones, but it was the concussion that had the Warden so concerned and why he asked for my help.” At the hobbits’ inquiring looks, Aragorn continued quietly, “He will be well, he responded to my call and the use of athelas soothed and strengthened him. I will go and see him again tomorrow. Then I received a report from Ithilien about some orcs that had been sighted several days ago. Captain Mablung and his rangers found and killed them, but we lost seven good men and several more were severely injured,” he gave the hobbits a small, sad smile. “But what tires me the most is dealing with some of my councilors. Most of them are good, just men and serve Gondor well, but there are a few lords that feel they must fight against every new policy I or Faramir deem important and it becomes wearisome. I would not mind their disagreement, if I felt they were doing so because they had the best interests of the people at heart, yet I do not believe that to be so. I believe they do it simply because they wish they were in control of the Kingdom of Gondor.” He slowly closed the pouch of pipeweed, running his fingers absently over the leather as he thought aloud. “I must find a way to reach them, for their arguments only waste time,” he looked into the distance for a moment before focusing back on the hobbits with a very grim look. “They do not yet seem to realize that it does little good to argue with a King.” Aragorn started to hand the pouch back to Pippin and then looked at it closely, “This is a nice pouch, Pippin,” he commented.

“Thanks, Rebecca gave it to me,” he replied with a smile. “For some reason she decided to honor Shire customs, at least for us hobbits on her birthday.”

Aragorn straightened up from where he had been leaning against the wall and he stared down at Pippin with shock, “Birthday? What do you mean her birthday?” he demanded.

Pippin just looked at Aragorn for a moment and then glanced at Merry who looked just as confused as he did. Finally he replied slowly, “Rebecca’s birthday was a couple of weeks ago, Strider. You didn’t know?” Aragorn shook his head, wondering why he had not been told.

“I wondered why you weren’t at the party,” Merry said, “but I figured you had some sort of celebration for them separately.”

“There was a party?” Aragorn asked quietly, “and what do you mean by ‘them’?”

“Well, it was more like just a lunch that we had,” Merry said quickly, his eye’s not meeting Aragorn’s. “And, Thomas’s birthday was a week or so before Rebecca’s.”

“Why would they not tell me?” Aragorn asked as if to himself, but looking at the two hobbits in confusion. He was surprised at how hurt he felt at not being included in something that had been important enough to them to have some type of celebration with the rest of the Fellowship. He also knew that Thomas had turned eighteen then and was, in the eyes of his people, now considered a man and he would have liked to have been a part of that celebration with him.

“I don’t know why they didn’t tell you, Strider,” Pippin said, looking at him with concern, “but it was all around the time when you found the White Tree and Arwen came and you were very busy.”

Aragorn frowned down at Pippin, ”How long does it take to tell someone it is your birthday?”

“You’ll have to ask them, Aragorn,” Merry suggested quietly, “There have been lots of changes in their lives lately.”

Aragorn looked at him for a moment and then nodded once, “I will ask them this evening, Merry.” He glanced up at the sun, “In fact, I need to go now so that I can change before supper.” Looking down at his pipe, which he had not smoked, Aragorn gave Pippin an apologetic smile, “I am sorry to have wasted your pipeweed, Pippin.”

“It’s all right, my Lord King Elessar,” Pippin replied, standing at attention and giving him a cheeky grin. With a small smile, and a quiet good night to the hobbits, Aragorn turned and headed to the House, lost in thought.

0-0-0

[“What did they do?”] Arwen asked Aragorn as they slowly walked down the hallway to the library where Rebecca and Thomas were waiting.

Seeing the question and concern in her eyes, Aragorn sighed softly. [“It is not something they did, it is something they did not tell me about that has upset me, Arwen.”]

[“You are hurt,”] she said with surprise after studying him for a moment.

[“Yes, I am,”] he admitted somewhat reluctantly.

[“They would never hurt you on purpose, Estel. Be sure that you hear what they have to say.”]

[“I know they would not and of course I will listen to them.”] Arwen did not look convinced, but said nothing further as they entered the library where Rebecca and Thomas were waiting. The two of them were sitting on a couch when he and Arwen entered and they eyed Aragorn warily as he walked into the room, concerned by the tone of his voice earlier when he had asked them to meet him in the library.

“What’s the matter, Aragorn?” Rebecca quickly asked. “Did we do something wrong?”

Shaking his head, Aragorn sat opposite them and Arwen perched on the wide arm of his chair. “No, you did not do anything wrong exactly, Rebecca, but I learned something today that surprised me.” Aragorn sighed as he studied them for a moment and as he noticed their growing unease, he finally said, “I was speaking with Merry and Pippin today and they told me that you both recently had birthdays.” Rebecca and Thomas paled slightly as Aragorn continued. “I was surprised because I had no idea that such had occurred and,” he paused briefly, “hurt when I learned that you also had parties at which I was not present to share in your joy.” He gave them an inquiring look and waited for them to explain, taking Arwen’s hand which she had laid on his arm.

“We meant to tell you, Adar,” Rebecca explained. “The day of Thomas’s birthday you weren’t at breakfast so we couldn’t invite you to the lunch.”

“It was the day you found the White Tree and you were gone all day and when you got back with it, everyone was rushing around and so excited,” Thomas said, “and then we-I just sort of forgot it was even my birthday.”

“And, Rebecca’s birthday?”

“It was the day before Arwen came,” Rebecca said, glancing at the elf who smiled. “You were rather… preoccupied that day and since you hadn’t been at Thomas’s we-we didn’t ask you,” her voice dropped to a whisper.

“I see,” Aragorn said mildly, though his voice fooled no one in the room.

“Gandalf wasn’t there either,” Thomas added and Aragorn nodded.

“I sort of thought maybe birthdays weren’t celebrated here except by hobbits because I’ve never heard anyone mention them except for Merry and Pippin. I don’t know your birthday, Aragorn,” Rebecca pointed out.

“I am eighty-eight years old, Rebecca and I rarely celebrate it anymore,” Aragorn said with exasperation, “and we are not talking about my birthday, but yours and Thomas’s. Birthdays are something you celebrate and I would have liked to have been a part of both of your special days,” he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I do understand that on the day of Thomas’s birthday I was gone, however if you had told me about it ahead of time, I would have been there. Gandalf and I only made plans that morning to go up Mount Mindolluin, and the White Tree would have been there the next day. And I would have liked to have had the distraction of your birthday the day before my beloved arrived,” Aragorn tightened his grip on Arwen’s hand as he glanced up at her. “But more than that, I would have liked being there to celebrate with you. I am somewhat hurt that you did not think I would want to be there, after all we have been through together I thought you knew me better than that,” he finished quietly. It was silent in the library for quite some time and then Thomas spoke.

“I’m sorry, Aragorn,” he said, looking him squarely in the eye. “Of course, I know you better than that and I’m not sure now why we didn’t tell you except to say it seemed to make sense at the time. Though, it’s not a very good reason and it sounds foolish right now, and I really am sorry.”

Aragorn smiled faintly and nodded in acknowledgment of his words and looked at Rebecca who would not meet his eyes and he sighed softly, glancing up at Arwen who nodded towards her. He shook his head slightly, [“Perhaps you should go to her to this time, meleth-nín.”]

[“It is not my comfort she needs, Estel,”] Arwen said softly.

Rebecca suddenly giggled and the others looked at her with surprise. She looked quickly between Arwen and Aragorn and finally fixed her eyes on Aragorn and swallowed hard as she said quietly, “You aren’t going to be able to keep speaking Sindarin in front of me if you don’t want me to understand something because I understand a lot more than I can speak. I understood most of what you just said,” Rebecca glanced away for a moment before meeting Aragorn’s eyes again. “I never meant to hurt you, Adar. You know I wouldn’t do it on purpose either and I’m sorry. It even seemed strange at the time not to have you there,” she admitted, lowering her gaze to the floor.

“It’s actually one of the reasons we got that calendar,” Thomas said, “so we could figure out our birthdays.”

“And other holidays,” Rebecca added, looking up at Aragorn again.

Aragorn smiled faintly at Rebecca as he asked, “Are there many holidays where you are from?”

“Quite a few, but we’re not going to celebrate all of them because they really wouldn’t fit here and they weren’t that important to us anyway,” she replied.

“Have I missed any of them or are any coming up soon?” Aragorn asked with a faint twinkle in his eye.

“There was one,” Thomas said quietly, “but it’s not really a celebration.” He reached over and took Rebecca’s hand. “And we didn’t tell anyone about it, though we probably should have,” he said, glancing at Rebecca who nodded. “We call it Memorial Day and it’s a day to remember those who died fighting for your country.”

“Usually people take flowers to where they are buried,” Rebecca added, “but we couldn’t do that…”

“We couldn’t do that on earth either,” Thomas reminded her.

“Why?” Arwen asked in a gentle voice.

“Our fathers were killed in battles thousands of miles from our homes across oceans and they were buried near the places where they died,” Thomas answered quietly.

Arwen looked at them with compassion in her unfathomable grey eyes, “My heart grieves for both of you.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said and Thomas nodded in acknowledgement. “But instead,” Rebecca continued, “on that day, we planted flowers in the gardens at the Houses of Healing in honor of our fathers… and Boromir.”

Aragorn gave the two of them a thoughtful look. “I am sorry that I was not there for you on that day either and I would have been had I known.” Rebecca and Thomas nodded. “That is a moving holiday, if holiday is even the right word. I may borrow that custom for Gondor and Arnor. When is it held?”

“May 30,” Thomas said, pausing for a moment to figure out the right name in his head, “so that’s Lótessë 30. Though I don’t think it matters when you would do it here.”

“I suppose not. Will you let me know when you have other special days approaching,” Aragorn asked gently, “so that Arwen and I may celebrate with you?”

“Yes, Adar and the next one isn’t until late fall,” Rebecca replied.

“Did you exchange gifts on your birthdays?” Arwen asked curiously.

“Thomas gave me this bracelet to match the necklace that he gave me in Lothlórien,” Rebecca held up her wrist to show the silver bracelet with small red stones around it. Arwen went and sat next to her and examined it more closely.

“It is very beautiful, Rebecca.”

“He also gave me a book of poetry.”

Aragorn gave Thomas an inquiring look and Thomas shrugged and explained, “She seems to enjoy reading them even if I don’t.”

“You may find you enjoy having her read them to you,” Aragorn said with a small smile. “What did Rebecca give you?”

“Some new kinds of paints and brushes, and I really like them” Thomas grinned, ”and she also gave me a painting for my room – it’s a picture of a lake that reminds us of a place where we’re from. She also made me a deck of cards.” Aragorn and Arwen stared at him blankly and so Thomas tried to explain. “It’s a game and it has fifty-two pieces of stiff parchment about this size,” he held out his hands to show them, “and they have different numbers and shapes on them…” he finally gave up trying to explain. “I’ll show it to you and teach you how to play sometime. You might like it,” he grinned at Aragorn who nodded uncertainly. “There are even games that four people can play,” Thomas added, glancing at Arwen who smiled.

“Since I did not know about your birthdays until this evening, we do not have any gifts for you,” Aragorn said. “It may take us some time to think of something appropriate for each of you, especially you, Thomas, since I believe you turned eighteen and are now considered a man among your people, are you not?” Thomas nodded.

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Rebecca said, staring at the floor. “You’ve done so much for me already.”

“Look at me, [sell-nín,]" Aragorn said gently, knowing that her words were not because of how much he had done for her, but because she was still upset at how she had hurt him. He waited patiently until she looked up and he smiled, “This is behind us now, Rebecca and I forgive you. And Thomas,’ he said glancing at the young man. “Yes, it hurt, but it does not change how I feel about you or Thomas. These things happen at times in all families. Do you think I never hurt my Adar or Naneth when I was growing up?” Rebecca shook her head and Arwen suddenly laughed lightly.

“I am sure we could ask my brothers to tell us stories of your youth, Estel and I know they would be willing to give Rebecca and Thomas examples of some of your misdeeds,” she smiled at the slight frown that crossed Aragorn’s face.

“Arwen,” he growled before a small smile crossed his lips and he turned back to Rebecca and Thomas to see them smiling. “I can see there will be times when it will be difficult to have married someone who has the same brothers and Adar,” he commented.

“It is rather… unusual,” Thomas pointed out.

“Hmmm, yes,” Aragorn agreed, “though I seldom see it that way,” he shrugged. “Back to you and Rebecca, however,” he said with a look at Arwen who gave him a serene smile and he shook his head slightly and turned his gaze back to Thomas and Rebecca. “Arwen and I will be getting both of you birthday gifts, as soon as we decide on something. Actually, Rebecca, I have a gift for you that I was going to tell you about tonight, although it is not a birthday gift. It is something that I promised to give you when we were in Cormallen. Halbarad reminded me about it a few days ago as I had completely forgotten.”

“A horse!” Rebecca exclaimed, her eyes shining. “You got me my horse!”

“Yes,” Aragorn said, laughing at her excitement and he was quickly joined by Thomas and Arwen. “Halbarad has said he will teach you to care for it…”

“He promised to do that when we were rushing across southern Gondor.”

“Umm, yes,” Aragorn said quietly, exchanging a look with Thomas as they remembered those days that had led up to the battle on the Pelennor and almost losing Rebecca. “Halbarad will speak with you tomorrow about arranging a time for the two of you to meet to work with the horse.”

“What’s it like? How big is it? What’s its name?”

“It’s a mare and whatever its name was, you may change it to whatever you like,” Aragorn said with a grin.

“Perhaps we should go and see this horse of Rebecca’s,” Arwen suggested. “Unless you have things you must do this evening, Estel.” Rebecca looked at him eagerly.

“No, not really,” he replied slowly, giving Arwen a look that indicated he wanted to spend time with her, but she just smiled and nodded at Rebecca. “All right,” Aragorn slowly got to his feet and led the others out of the library and down the hall. Glancing at the guards who were on duty and would be accompanying them, he realized that Rebecca’s comment back in Cormallen was correct – it would be like a parade. Faramir had decided that Arwen also needed two guards and so there would be six guards trailing the four of them. Aragorn decided that he needed to talk with his Steward about making some type of adjustment when all four of them were together, there really was no need for this many guards. He nodded at Laegrist and Hinluin as they joined them and thought briefly on his meeting with Alvist in the morning when he would tell the ranger that he was appointing him Steward of Arnor. Hopefully, Alvist would take the post willingly and not just see it as a duty to be endured. Crossing the courtyard, they met Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbarad returning from the lower levels of the city.

“Adar got my horse for me!” Rebecca said as soon as they drew near.

“I know, lady,” Halbarad said with a small smile.

“Are you going to look at it now?” Elrohir asked, glancing at Aragorn who nodded. “I would like to see this horse of yours, Rebecca,” he said, joining them and walking alongside Thomas. Halbarad turned to walk with Rebecca and, after a moment, Elladan joined them as well.

Trailing after the others, Aragorn glanced sidelong at Arwen, [“I am sure none would miss us now, meleth-nín,”] he whispered in a low voice, conscious of their brothers just ahead.

[“We will have time later, Estel,”] Arwen replied with amusement in her voice. [“The evening is young.”]

[“Elves always think there is plenty of time,”] he responded darkly, though he smiled slightly as he looked at her and caressed her hand lying on his arm. Watching Rebecca talking animatedly with Halbarad about the horse and his cousin responding slowly and carefully to whatever questions she was asking him, Aragorn knew the two of them would have an interesting time together as Halbarad taught her how to care for the animal.

As they approached the stables on the sixth circle, Arwen looked at Aragorn and asked, [“Do you have any ideas on what to get Rebecca or Thomas as gifts?”]

Aragorn shook his head, [“No, none. There is nothing they need and as for what they would like,” he narrowed his eyes in thought, “we will have to think on this together, meleth-nín. I will need your help.”]

[“Of course I will help, yet you know them well and I am sure that you will think of something. You just need time,”] she added after a moment and Aragorn nodded.

Rebecca stopped at the door of the stables, turning to ask Aragorn, “Which one is she, Adar?”

“It is the black mare in the stall next to Baldor.”

Nodding, Rebecca forced herself to slowly walk into the stables, being mindful that in her excitement she not spook the horses. Several grooms approached to see what they needed, but Halbarad and Aragorn dismissed them with polite words. Halfway down the row of stalls Rebecca saw her horse and she smiled in delight. The horse had its head poked out of the stall door and it whickered softly as they approached. Rebecca let the horse smell her hand as she quietly talked to it and began petting it and scratching its ears. Peering into the stall she could see the mare was a solid shimmering black. It was smaller than Baldor, which was currently being greeted by Thomas, and Rebecca knew that she should be able to saddle and care for it comfortably. She turned to Aragorn, “It’s a beautiful horse, thank you, Adar.” Rebecca quickly embraced him before moving back to the stall.

“Halbarad and I thought so and she has a gentle temperament,” Aragorn said as he reached over and patted the horse.

“What will you name her?” Arwen asked.

Rebecca shrugged, “I don’t know, there are some obvious ones that come to mind, but I want to think about it a little bit.”

Thomas moved over to look at the mare, leaning against the wall between the two stalls and trying to ignore Baldor’s nudges on his back and snuffling in his hair. “It’s a really nice looking horse, Rebecca,” he commented quietly, finally reaching behind him and pushing Baldor’s head away. A moment later the horse was back and with a sigh Thomas moved away from the wall and out of reach.

“Your horse likes you,” Elrohir said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Thomas gave Baldor a fond smile, “He does now, but it’s taken a lot of work.”

Watching Thomas with Baldor gave Aragorn an idea and he glanced around for Thomas’s tack and he spotted it nearby. Of course it was Rohirric in design and it was well worn and had obviously been used for years. A new saddle would be a perfect birthday gift for Thomas and perhaps for Rebecca as well. He and Halbarad had planned on her using one of the spare saddles from the stables, but she would probably enjoy new tack to go along with the horse. He decided to speak with Arwen about it, though he wanted to find something more personal for Thomas as well, in light of it being his eighteenth birthday.

“Adar,” Rebecca looked up at him with a pleading expression, “Can we… and I mean all of us, go out for a ride sometime soon? I know you’re busy, but even kings deserve a day or an afternoon off sometime.”

Aragorn grinned, “Perhaps I might be persuaded to do just that, Rebecca. I find the thought of escaping the city for a time a very pleasant idea. Thomas, you know my schedule as well as anyone, am I busy?”

Thomas laughed, “We are tomorrow and the next day, my Lord King Elessar, but after that I don’t think the schedule is too full yet.”

Arwen leaned against Aragorn and he wrapped his arm around her as she gazed down at Rebecca. “Who did you mean by all of us?” Those of us here in the stables,” her glance took in Elladan, Elrohir, and Halbarad. “Or were you thinking of others as well?”

“Everybody here of course, the rest of the Fellowship, and any of your family, and Haldir if he can, but he may have to guard Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn,“ Rebecca replied with a thoughtful expression.

“You really did mean all of us,” Aragorn said with amusement.

Rebecca sighed, “Yes, I did, Aragorn. Especially the hobbits, I think. I don’t see them near enough anymore and I know they’re leaving soon.” She absently patted the mare when it nudged her. “Thomas and I need to spend more time with them in the evenings,” she added, glancing at Thomas who nodded in agreement.

“I should as well,” Aragorn said softly. “Time does indeed grow short and between them and my Adar… my heart is torn.” He drew Arwen closer and kissed her briefly, yet tenderly at the quick look of sorrow that crossed her face.

“Legolas has said that he will return, as will Gimli to repair the gate,” Thomas said, “but will we ever see Gandalf or the hobbits again?”

“Perhaps. The Shire is part of my kingdom, Thomas, and I… we will travel to Arnor someday.” Aragorn did not respond to the question about Gandalf, knowing that he would be leaving Middle-earth soon and hoping the wizard would speak to Rebecca and Thomas before he left.

“I would like to come with you, Rebecca,” Elladan said quietly. “It will be good to enjoy the lands outside these walls for a time.” Rebecca smiled up at the tall elf while Elrohir and Halbarad indicated they also intended to join them.

“Good,” Aragorn said. “Thomas and I will speak with Faramir tomorrow about which day would be best for me to be absent from the city and I will let you know, Rebecca. Now, Arwen and I did have some plans for this evening so we will take our leave.” Ignoring the small smiles of the men and elves, Aragorn led Arwen toward the door of the stables. Pausing right before he exited he called back, “Oh, and Thomas? Celeborn and Glorfindel would like you to join us in the morning when we practice our swordplay.”

Thomas bit back a groan, “All right, I’ll be there Aragorn,” he replied with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“Perhaps I will join you as well,” Elrohir said as he clasped Thomas on the back.

“Yes, I need to spar with more elves,” Thomas said, glaring briefly at the elf, who only smiled in return.

“If you want to improve your skill, then it is best to practice and learn from those who are better and can teach you well, Thomas,” Elladan said in a quiet, yet somewhat stern voice.

“I know that, Lord Elladan and while I would not mind sparring with you or Lord Elrohir, I do find Lord Celeborn and Lord Glorfindel… somewhat intimidating and so it’s sort of hard to learn anything at all.”

“You are still intimidated by them?” Elladan asked with a touch of surprise in his voice.

Thomas shrugged, “Not to talk to anymore, but I think I will be when I spar with them. Though,” he paused briefly, “I guess I haven’t actually done it, so maybe once I’m there in the morning it won’t be as hard as the first time I sparred with Lord Celeborn.”

“You sparred with him in Lothlórien?” Elrohir asked.

“Yes, right after he gave me this sword,” Thomas touched the one belted to his waist. “It was an… interesting experience. Especially when he tried to set me at ease when he told me that in all the long years of his life he had only killed a handful of elves while he was sparring with them,” he grimaced slightly at the memory.

Elladan and Elrohir both laughed quite freely, causing Halbarad and Rebecca to look over from where they were discussing her new horse. Finally, Elrohir said, “I am sure that he was indeed trying to set you at ease, Thomas, though I am also sure that that comment did nothing to soothe you in any way.” Thomas shook his head.

“You’ll do fine, Thomas,” Halbarad said as he and Rebecca joined them. “You work hard with your sword.”

“Do you practice with your sword, Rebecca?” Elladan asked.

“No, just my archery, I’ve kept my sword because I got it in Lothlórien, but I really don’t have time to practice and I really like archery better anyway. I’m good at it,” she gave him a broad smile and he nodded once.

Glancing around at the others, Thomas started moving towards the door and the others followed. “As I now have to be up early and face several very skilled swordsmen…elves,” he shook his head, “I think I am ready to return.” He gave Rebecca a questioning look and she nodded in agreement and they left the stables and headed back up to the Citadel and to their home.

0-0-0

Slowly walking onto the practice yard, Thomas was surprised to discover that he was the first one there and he glanced up at the sun to check the time. The low murmur of voices signaled the approach of others and he moved to the far side of the yard, drawing his sword and beginning to warm up. He watched with narrowed eyes as Aragorn, Celeborn, and Glorfindel entered the yard talking quietly, and then, true to their words of the night before, Elladan and Elrohir followed close behind them. Thomas suppressed a sigh. He actually liked Glorfindel a lot, the elf had a sense of humor that he enjoyed and he was fun to talk to. Rebecca had told him how he had been reborn, it seemed strange, yet many things about Middle-earth were strange and Thomas had just shrugged it off. “Good morning, Aragorn,” he said as the man approached.

Aragorn nodded and drew Andúril to begin warming up. “Where should we go on our ride, Thomas?” he asked with a small smile.

Thomas threw him a startled look. “Our ride? Oh, the one Rebecca was talking about last night?” Aragorn nodded. He thought for a moment, “Maybe up towards Lossarnach if there are any streams or lakes. It’s nice to have water to eat by, assuming we’re going to have a picnic or something.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Aragorn commented as he continued his stretching.

“You’re not very subtle about trying to put me at ease, Aragorn,” Thomas said with a smile and Aragorn grinned.

“Did it work?”

“I’ll be fine. Who am I sparring with?”

“I would like to spar with you, young Thomas,” Celeborn said as he suddenly appeared in front of them.

“I would be honored, my lord,” Thomas said with a slight bow before following the long striding elf-lord to the middle of the yard. This time there was no attempt to put Thomas as ease, just a moment to make sure each was ready and with a slight inclination of the head on both parts they began sparring. Thomas pushed everything else from his mind and concentrated solely on Celeborn as he circled him warily. While he knew that he could not hope to beat the elf-lord, Thomas was determined to make the spar last as long as possible and to see if he could at least put Celeborn on the defensive a time or two. Celeborn attacked first and Thomas deftly blocked the blows and as the elf pulled back slightly, Thomas followed him, causing Celeborn to have to parry Thomas’s blows in return. Thomas grinned inwardly. But Celeborn quickly attacked again and Thomas found himself backpedaling, though he was still blocking the elf-lord’s strikes, yet he couldn’t find any openings to press his own attack. Thomas was finally able to stop retreating, though he wasn’t sure if it was because Celeborn let him or if the series of parries he had used had slowed the elf-lord. Part of Thomas doubted that Celeborn would make it easier for him, but another part of him wasn’t so sure. Suddenly, and Thomas wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, his sword was flipped from his hand and flew through the air, landing on the white stones of the courtyard and went skittering away from him. He watched it for a moment and then looked up at Celeborn who was gazing at him with an unreadable expression. Thomas bowed as the elf-lord approached and began speaking quietly.

“You did very well, Thomas and you have indeed improved from when we last sparred.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

Celeborn laid a hand on his shoulder, “Though you have worked hard, I can tell that much of your improvement comes from experience.”

Thomas nodded and let out a soft sigh, “Yes I did get a lot of that, my lord and I have the scars to prove it.”

The elf-lord gently touched the mostly faded scar on the side of Thomas’s cheek, “You are most fortunate to still be with us, young Thomas.”

“I am, Lord Celeborn,” Thomas replied quietly as his gaze met the elf’s eyes, “and while this is the worst scar that I have, it was certainly not the worst battle. I do thank the… Valar that I’m still alive, and most especially that Rebecca is.” Celeborn nodded and led the way to Thomas’s sword, picking it up and examining it closely before handing it to the young man who sheathed it.

“I have rarely given a sword to a mortal, Thomas. Very few men ever enter Lothlórien and in the years before I dwelt there, I had little contact with them. I am pleased that this sword served you so well and that you proved worthy of it.”

“Thank you again, my lord,” Thomas smiled, “I don’t think that orc scimitar would have done me much good.”

Celeborn shook his head and they started to walk to the edge of the yard where the others were standing. “Have you become proficient with your archery?” he inquired.

Thomas studied his feet as he replied, “No, Lord Celeborn, I haven’t. Legolas keeps trying to teach me, but I have little time to practice.”

“Perhaps Haldir may be able to help you, I hear he is an excellent teacher.”

Glancing up at the elf-lord, Thomas caught the glimmer of amusement in Celeborn’s blue eyes and he smiled, “Yes he is, my lord. Rebecca is certainly a wonderful archer.” Nodding and giving Thomas a small smile, Celeborn walked over to join Elladan and Elrohir, leaving Thomas standing near Aragorn.

“You did well, Thomas,” Aragorn said, patting him on the shoulder. “You were able to stay with him longer than I thought you might be able to,” he admitted.

Thomas grinned, “It was what, five minutes at the most? But yes, I know I did better, Aragorn, I could tell. I did make him go on the defensive one time at least.”

“Estel, I am waiting for you,” Glorfindel called from the middle of the yard and with a grin at Thomas, Aragorn turned and walked away, drawing his sword as he approached the golden-haired elf.

Thomas sat on a bench near the wall, drawing one leg up, wrapping his arms around it and, with his chin resting on his knee, he watched in fascination as Glorfindel and Aragorn sparred. He had been told that Glorfindel was the greatest elven warrior in Middle-earth and he knew that Aragorn was the greatest human warrior and to watch them took his breath away. They were both so incredibly quick that it was hard to see what was happening and several times Thomas wanted to close his eyes because he was sure that one of them was going to die. The sound of clanging metal filled the morning air as the swords came together again and again and then slid apart as each of them probed for openings. Breaking apart, they circled each other, their eyes never leaving the other’s sword. Thomas wondered how many times they had fought over the years. He knew it probably had to be hundreds of times and he would have thought that they should have known each other’s moves by now, but evidently not as this spar had been going on for more than fifteen minutes now and neither seemed even close to winning. The biggest thing that Thomas noticed was that Glorfindel had an advantage because of his height. The elf was close to a foot taller than Aragorn and so his reach was longer, though Thomas supposed that Aragorn was used to it. The two competitors closed on each other once more as Aragorn attacked and again there was a flurry of thrusts, jabs and blocks and then suddenly Glorfindel snaked his sword past Aragorn’s blade and tapped him an the side of his leg with the flat edge of his sword. The two of them fell back and Aragorn shook his head in mock dismay before grinning at Glorfindel who embraced him before they walked back towards Thomas as Elladan and Elrohir replaced them in the center of the yard.

“Are you going to spar with me this morning, Thomas?” Glorfindel asked, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at him.

“Oh, I think I’ve done enough sparring this morning, Lord Glorfindel,” Thomas said. “Perhaps another day would be better.” He glanced at Aragorn who had joined him on the bench and was leaning back, intently watching the twins.

“Tomorrow then,” Glorfindel said firmly and Thomas nodded in acceptance. As Glorfindel walked over to Celeborn, Thomas shook his head and let out a small sigh and Aragorn reached over and patted his shoulder without even looking at him.

0-0-0

“Did you name her yet?” Halbarad asked Rebecca as they walked into the stables.

“Yes, Merilvor.”

“Black rose, it fits her,” he nodded. “Now, lady, I’ll show you how, but you’re doing the work.” Halbarad showed Rebecca the tack room where the brushes, tack and other things she might need were stored. The grooms and stable boys looked on in dismay as Halbarad showed Rebecca how to put a halter on Merilvor and then to brush and clean the horse. He insisted that she learn how to do it, she would not always be in Minas Tirith and have someone else around to care for her horse. Once Merilvor was brushed off, Halbarad showed her how to slip on the bridle and to adjust the bit and straps. The last thing was the saddle.

“First the blanket,” Halbarad directed quietly. Rebecca laid the blanket gently on Merilvor and smoothed it out carefully. Halbarad reached over and pulled it back towards the tail a few inches, “Don’t lay it too far up on the withers.” Rebecca nodded and turned towards the saddle and picked it up, preparing to set it on the horse. “Stop,” he ordered, “look at the stirrups and the girth strap.” She looked down at them and then back up at Halbarad with confusion. “If you do that way, the stirrups and the strap will get caught under the saddle.” He squatted down and showed her how to take the offside stirrup and the straps and loop them over the pommel. “Now do it.” Rebecca picked the saddle up once again and with just a small grunt and leaning up on her toes, set the saddle on Merilvor. The horse shifted slightly away as she did so, but then settled right down when she patted it.

“Now, I tighten the girth strap, right?”

“Yes, but be careful not to startle her when you take it and the stirrup off the pommel.”

Nodding, Rebecca ducked under Merilvor’s neck and gently let down the stirrup and straps before returning to the other side of the horse. She reached under the horse’s belly and grabbed the girth strap and then carefully followed Halbarad’s instructions to tighten it. When she was finished she looked up at him and smiled, “Is there anything else I need to do?”

Halbarad pulled gently, yet firmly on the saddle to make sure it was secure and then shook his head, “No, she’s ready to go.”

“Do you have time for a ride this morning, Halbarad?” Rebecca asked nervously, but with a hopeful expression.

“Aragorn told me I could be late,” he replied with a small smile as he went to saddle his horse while, behind him, Rebecca grinned.

0-0-0

It was a rather large company that rode out of Minas Tirith not long after dawn for Rebecca’s Ride, as Aragorn had teasingly dubbed the day. Ponies had been obtained for the hobbits, and they, along with Gandalf, Legolas, Gimli, Elrond, and Glorfindel had all been rather eager to escape the city for a day. Celeborn and Galadriel had declined the invitation, though Galadriel had then suggested that Haldir and his brothers might enjoy such a day and the three elves had joined them. Erestor had also turned Rebecca down, mumbling something about searching the city archives for a decent map of the First Age of Middle-earth.

Aragorn had refused to take any of their normal citadel guards with them, telling Faramir that with eight elves, a dwarf, and Halbarad, he and his family were well protected. Though, he did promise that everyone, including Arwen, Elrond, and Rebecca, would bear weapons. He had been privately amused by Faramir’s quiet arguments with him regarding the matter; it was quite evident that his Steward had gotten over his initial uneasiness with him, which relieved Aragorn immensely. But Faramir had insisted on sending some of the rangers from his White Company up the day before to scout out the area and they had detected no signs of orcs. Aragorn knew this would probably be one of the last times all of them would be able to be together and he did not want others around to intrude on their privacy. Not when he felt sure they were fully capable of defending themselves.

Food for both lunch and dinner was packed neatly in saddlebags since the area they were riding to could take as long as three hours to reach. No one was in any particular hurry, the morning was cool, but the cloudless sky promised a hot afternoon and the woods and streams of Lossarnach sounded much more pleasant than being in Minas Tirith.

Riding between Elrond and Arwen at the head of the column, Aragorn absently patted Roheryn as they passed through the Rammas Echor and headed up into the hills. The small hamlets here by the river were starting to be rebuilt and he looked carefully at the progress being made and nodded in satisfaction at what he saw. Small gardens had been planted around many of the cottages and there were at least some chickens, pigs, and goats at several homes.

[“Much was destroyed,”] Elrond commented as they rode past.

[“We will rebuild, but it will take time. We are helping the people as much as we can, Adar, yet there is so much need and our resources are few right now. Prince Imrahil is helping as his lands were little touched by war throughout the years. I am most grateful for him and his support of me since I have been here.”]

Elrond nodded, [“You are surrounded by good people, ion-nín, they will be much needed in the years ahead,”] his eyes became dark and distant for a moment before looking back at Aragorn and then beyond him to Arwen. [“Faramir seems wise beyond what I would expect for someone of his age. Of course you have Halbarad, and Legolas tells me that he intends to move to Ithilien. I do not know Imrahil well, yet he also sounds like someone you can lean on for advice and support. You will need people like that, Estel. When Imladris was being built, I relied heavily on Glorfindel and Erestor, I could not have built that without them. I was not married then, so I did not have Celebrían to aid me and you are blessed with Arwen, do not overlook her wisdom,”] Elrond added softly.

[“I will never overlook Arwen, Adar,”] Aragorn replied, leaning over, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

[“He does not and I would not let him, Adar. We talk of many things that are on his heart or mine, some of which concern things that are happening in the Kingdom. No, Estel does not overlook me,”] Arwen said as she looked over at Elrond.

[“I would be foolish not to ask for her advice and opinions. Arwen gives me a different perspective, helps me see things that I might not have considered.”] Aragorn glanced at her from the corner of his eye and then added with a small smile, [“She has a few more years of experience than I do.”]

Arwen laughed lightly and when Aragorn saw the glimmer of amusement in Elrond’s eyes, he joined her.

0-0-0

Rebecca looked ahead at the sound of Aragorn and Arwen’s laughter and she smiled before turning her attention back to the hobbits. Merry and Pippin laughed and she saw Frodo smile and shake his head slightly as Sam finished his story. “All right, Rebecca it’s your turn,” Sam said, “you need to tell us something about your home.”

“All right,” Rebecca paused for a moment, trying to think of something that would be easy for her to share and for them to understand and yet still be interesting. She thought briefly of airplanes, movies, and things like vacuums and washing machines, before settling on grocery stores. Knowing how hobbits liked to eat, Rebecca thought they might enjoy hearing about stores filled with food – if she could explain it correctly. “All right,” she said again, “I’ve thought of something that we have called grocery stores. Food of all different kind is sold in these stores.” The four hobbits looked at her with interest as she continued. “I know there are shops here for selling food, but these stores are really big. Some are almost as big as Merethrond.” All four of the hobbit’s eyes widened. Scratching Merilvor’s ears, she explained how the food was set up in rows and on shelves and how there were cans or containers of all different kinds of things: soups, fruits, vegetables, meat, fish, juice, and many other things.

“There is soup already made? And why would you want to buy things in these cans?” Sam asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Well, it’s easier for some people and it lasts a long time – for years. You can buy fresh things there too. Oh, there are frozen things to buy too, like ice cream,” Rebecca said with a look of longing.

“What’s ice cream?” Frodo asked, looking up at her curiously.

Rebecca


Chapter 32 - Revelations

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Reader – J.

[...] are used to indicate conversations in elvish and individual elvish words are translated at the end of the chapter.

A/N: I reposted the last chapter and added this note because of many questions I received, so some of you might not have seen this, so I am including it again for your benefit. If you have not seen some of the maps that show all of Arda and not just Gondor, Rohan, the Shire, etc. you may not have seen the ones that clearly show the continents of Africa and the edges of South America, etc. Karen Wynn Fonnstad’s Book, The Atlas of Middle Earth is a great resource. Up until this point, Rebecca and Thomas had not seen a map that showed all of Arda and so were unaware of the other continents.

Chapter 32 - Revelations


After a moment of silence when all in the room stared at Gandalf, Aragorn asked in a low voice, “What do you mean, Gandalf? Do you also know then why they are here? And if you knew these things, why have you not said anything to them or to me before?” he gave the wizard a sharp look as these questions had been preying on his mind for many months.

“Peace, Aragorn,” Gandalf replied mildly, “it was not yet time for me to speak to Rebecca and Thomas and I would not speak to you before I spoke with them.”

Aragorn gave him a troubled look and nod before turning his gaze to Rebecca and Thomas who were staring blankly at Gandalf as they clung to each other. “Rebecca, Thomas,” he called softly, walking around his desk as they started and looked at him in confusion. “It will be all right. I am sure that Gandalf will be able to explain things to us and everything will be all right.” Aragorn fought down the knot of fear in his stomach as to why the wizard had chosen to wait this long and what it could mean - both to them and to him and Arwen. He put a hand on each of their shoulders in an effort to reassure them.

Thomas looked back at Gandalf and asked, in a somewhat shaky voice, “Can you tell us right now?”

Gandalf gazed inquiringly at Aragorn who, after glancing at Faramir, reluctantly shook his head. “I am sorry, but we will have to wait a short time longer. I have a few things I must get done this morning for when court meets tomorrow morning. We will not be able to meet for several hours, say this afternoon at the… eighth hour.”

“And it would be best if the rest of the Fellowship were there, Aragorn,” Gandalf said. “They were there at the beginning and deserve to hear this.”

“If it would be permitted, Mithrandir, I am sure that Lord Elrond would like to hear this discussion,” Erestor said quietly.

Gandalf gave him a thoughtful look and then nodded, “Yes, he should be included as well.”

“What about Halbarad? He should be there,” Rebecca said, the fear in her voice obvious to all in the room.

“Yes, young lady, he may come,” Gandalf replied in a very gentle voice.

“Elladan and Elrohir should be there too,” Thomas said after glancing at Rebecca who nodded. Gandalf started to protest, but stopped when Thomas added, “They’ve been with us a long time, Gandalf, and besides,” he glanced at Aragorn, “they’re family.”

Nodding, Gandalf made no further comment on the inclusion of the twins as he turned to Aragorn. “Where will we meet?”

“The sitting room on the second floor, it is the room best suited to our purpose.”

Gandalf stood, “Then I will go and find Legolas, Gimli, and the hobbits and inform them of our plans. I do know they were planning to be out this morning.” Pausing briefly by Rebecca and Thomas on his way out the door, he said quietly. “It will be all right, children. Even if it is difficult, you will be all right.” Neither of them responded as he left the room.

Aragorn watched him leave before looking back at Rebecca and Thomas and his eyes immediately softened with compassion. They had not looked so lost and uncertain since the first few days they had spent in Middle-earth. Knowing there was nothing he could say to set their minds and hearts at ease, he looked at Erestor and, after a pause, spoke to him in Quenya instead of Sindarin so that neither Rebecca nor Thomas would understand what he was saying. “Erestor, will you please take them back to the House and right to Arwen? Tell her what has happened and ask her to stay with them until I can join them. They may desire to be off and alone, but I do not believe that that would be either wise or the best thing for them right now. The fear of what Gandalf may tell them is already overwhelming them and it might be best if they talk about it with Arwen, or you or any of the other members of our family that may be present.”

“Of course, Estel, and I will stay with them after I have spoken with Lord Elrond,” Erestor paused briefly and his eyes reflected his sorrow as he looked at Aragorn. “My heart aches for the pain this is already causing you,” he said softly as he moved towards the door.

Aragorn nodded in acknowledgment and turned to Rebecca and Thomas who had been watching their exchange with wide eyes and he spoke to them gently. “I want you to go with Erestor back to the House and wait there with Arwen until I join you later.” He hesitated briefly before adding, “I do not know what to say that will put your hearts at rest, except that I have known Gandalf for most of my life and I trust him.”

“I don’t understand why he didn’t tell us before, Adar,” Rebecca asked, her voice full of confusion and fear, her eyes anguished.

“I do not understand it either, sell-nín, but I believe that is something he will tell us this afternoon.”

“I always thought Gandalf knew more than he was telling us,” Thomas said, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice.

Aragorn looked at him in concern as he responded, “While I too am concerned about what Gandalf will tell us, ion-nín, I do know that often he is not free to speak until certain events have taken place. I do not know all the restrictions that the Valar have placed on him, but you can trust that he kept quiet for a good reason or because he was not at liberty to speak.” Thomas looked at him for a long moment and then nodded reluctantly. “Now, you two need to go so that Faramir and I may get our work done.”

Thomas turned to go, but Rebecca let go of him and embraced Aragorn tightly for several moments as he gently patted her back. He kissed her brow tenderly when she finally released him and then he watched, his eyes filled with sorrow, as the two of them followed Erestor out the door. Sighing in frustration and running his hand through his hair, Aragorn returned to his chair and sat down heavily, burying his head in his hands. It was quiet in the office for a time before Faramir finally spoke.

“Aragorn?”

“What?” Aragorn did not look up.

“You need to heed the advice you just gave to your children, Aragorn.” Aragorn lifted his head and looked at Faramir with an eyebrow raised in question. “I mean about trusting Mithrandir,” he said. “He told them that it would be all right, even if it was difficult, it would be all right. I do not pretend to know the ways of wizards, Aragorn, and you know him much better than I do, but you will have to trust him.”

Aragorn looked away briefly and then back at Faramir, “He said it would be all right for them, he said nothing about me, Faramir. But you are right, I should listen to my own words,” he admitted wryly. “I have always trusted Gandalf,” he said with a small sigh, “and I will not change now.” He straightened up in his chair and turned to the business that he and Faramir had to accomplish that morning, firmly pushing thoughts of Rebecca and Thomas to the back of his mind. At least for a moment.

0-0-0

Walking back across the courtyard to the House, Rebecca and Thomas held hands, paying absolutely no attention to anything around them as they followed Erestor. Neither of them spoke as they both thought about what Gandalf was going to tell them. Rebecca did trust Gandalf, the time she had spent with him in Lothlórien and then as they traveled together had built a deep level of trust within her for the wizard and it was not easily cast aside. She truly did not understand the delay in telling them what he knew and she was frightened by the discovery that this was actually earth. She wasn’t sure why it upset her so much, part of her had always known that time travel had been a possibility. But the longer they had been here the less likely that had seemed. What she had told Erestor was true, there were no records of any of this in her time and maybe that was part of the reason she was upset. She had grown to love Middle-earth and the people and to think that none of this would ever be remembered was hard to believe. Something had to have happened to cause all records of this time to disappear, but she couldn’t understand how things like elves, hobbits, orcs, Sauron, and the Valar had just disappeared from the history of a world. She wondered how far back into the past they had traveled. Things did look different on that map, though she knew that the beginning of the Second Age was six thousand years in the past. Maybe her time was six thousand years in the future. Rebecca sighed with frustration as they entered the door of the House.

All Thomas could think about was why this was happening now. He had come to accept that Middle-earth was his home and he was finally content living here. He had a family that he loved and that loved him in return, a woman that he was going to marry, friends that he enjoyed, work that was both interesting and challenging, and opportunities to explore new things – like his painting. None of which, except for the family, he had back on earth, or rather in his own time, Thomas corrected himself with a slight grimace. Whatever Gandalf had to share with them could not be good. Gandalf, Aragorn, Galadriel, and Celeborn had always said that the Valar or Eru had some plan for them, but he sure didn’t know what it was. At least, it wasn’t obvious to him. If it was Rebecca saving Halbarad, then Thomas didn’t know why he was here at all and why they would still be here when the war had ended months ago. There had to be some other reason, some other explanation to all of this, but whatever it was, Thomas knew that it was going to be difficult and would upset the life he and Rebecca had made for themselves here in Middle-earth. Sighing in frustration, he followed Erestor into the House.

Erestor paused just inside the doorway and looked up and down both hallways as if uncertain about where to go. The three of them looked up and to the right as Elladan and Elrohir came silently down the stairs. The twins looked at Rebecca and Thomas and then their gazes shifted abruptly to Erestor as Elladan asked, “What has happened, Erestor?”

Ignoring the question, Erestor asked one of his own. “Where is Lady Arwen? We need to speak with her.”

“I believe she was planning on returning to her chambers after breakfast,” Elrohir said slowly, his gaze turning back to Rebecca and Thomas.

“Do you know where Lord Elrond was going to spend this morning?”

Elladan nodded, “He is talking with Daeradar and Daernaneth in their chambers,” he replied, motioning down the hallway.

“Good. Elladan, please ask him to join us in Estel and Lady Arwen’s chambers,” Erestor said, turning and striding down the other hallway. Rebecca and Thomas followed him and, after a moment, Elrohir trailed behind, a look of concern on his usually impassive face. They stood silently after Erestor knocked on the door to Arwen’s chambers and when she opened the door her discerning grey eyes swept over the group and she silently beckoned them inside. After the door closed, Arwen asked the same question Elladan had asked a moment before.

“What has happened, Erestor?”

Glancing at Rebecca and Thomas, Erestor spoke in Sindarin as he answered Arwen’s question and Thomas listened impatiently, understanding some of the words and things they were saying, but he grew increasingly frustrated. He knew they were doing it out of some need to try and ‘protect’ him and Rebecca, but he didn’t see the point. Finally, he spoke up. “Would you speak in the common tongue so that Rebecca and I can understand? You don’t need to try and protect us, neither of us are children,” he said with a trace of anger in his voice.

“Forgive us, Thomas,” Arwen said quietly as she laid her hand on his arm. “Indeed you are not children, though of course you are very young.” The last was said so gently and her eyes were filled with such compassion that neither Thomas nor Rebecca felt offended. “We spoke so because it is often easier for us to quickly and thoroughly discuss something. Erestor has told me what has happened and of Estel’s concerns for the both of you. Come and sit down,” Arwen gestured to the couches and chairs that sat around the fireplace. As Rebecca moved to follow Arwen’s directions, Thomas just stood and watched the elf as she continued speaking softly. “Because he is concerned for you, Estel has asked that you stay here with me, that you not be alone at this time.” Rebecca sat on a couch and looked up at Thomas.

“Thomas, aren’t you going to sit down?”

“In a minute, Rebecca,” he replied impatiently, moving instead to the window, leaning on its frame and staring moodily out into the garden.

Rebecca watched him for a moment and then turned her gaze to the floor as she began to absently play with the tassel on the corner of a pillow that was sitting beside her on the couch. She looked up when Arwen sat down beside her and she gave the elf a wan smile. Arwen took Rebecca’s hand and rubbed it soothingly for a time before she spoke softly. “Erestor told me all that Mithrandir said to you, Rebecca and I know of your trust and love for him. I see it whenever you are with him. Will you tell me what frightens you the most?” Rebecca paused for a moment to try and put her thoughts in order and was beginning to answer when the door opened and Elrond and Elladan silently entered the room. Their intense grey eyes looked around the room and Rebecca turned back to Arwen when she saw Erestor going to speak with them.

“I’m not really sure what I fear the most, Arwen. But I know I don’t understand why he hasn’t told us before now.” Rebecca furrowed her brow in thought for a moment before she continued slowly. “Maybe… maybe it’s that whatever he tells us, our lives won’t be the same anymore.” She gave Arwen a sad smile, “I like my life here, Arwen and if I have to change it again…,” her voice trailed off and she bit her lip as a tear trickled from her eye, which she quickly wiped away as she took a deep shuddering breath.

“It would be hard,” Arwen agreed. “For all of us,” she added after a moment. “Rebecca, your life may not be the same after speaking with Mithrandir, yet that does not necessarily mean it is a bad thing. I know not what he will say to you, but there is also the possibility that in the end it will be a positive thing for you and Thomas.”

“He said it will be difficult,” she pointed out quietly.

Arwen nodded, “Yes that is true, but you know that difficult times can also lead to a good ending. Look at the war we just endured, Rebecca. Was it not the most horrible, difficult time you could have imagined?”

Rebecca nodded and smiled slightly, “Yes and now everything is going well around here – you and Aragorn are married; the people have a king and queen at last. I see your point, Arwen,” she sighed and leaned back against the couch. “It’s going to be a long day,” she murmured.

0-0-0

Thomas glanced up at Elrohir as the elf stepped up beside him and briefly clasped his shoulder. They both stood looking out into the garden, neither saying a word. After the silence stretched on for many long minutes, Thomas began shifting nervously on his feet and he looked up at Elrohir again who was still staring impassively at the garden. “Do you have something to say, Lord Elrohir?” he finally asked.

“No, Thomas,” he replied softly, glancing down at him, “I just did not want you to feel that you were alone right now.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t,” Thomas said, turning and gazing around the room to see Erestor and Elladan talking quietly, while Elrond was talking with Rebecca and Arwen. He frowned slightly before looking back at Elrohir. “There are lots of people here,” he said with a shrug.

“There are people here and yet you stand alone by the window,” Elrohir observed.

“Didn’t you ever just want to be alone with your thoughts?”

“Yes, at times.”

“Then you understand how I feel right now,” Thomas said as he returned his gaze to the garden.

“I shall respect your need for privacy, Thomas.” Elrohir turned to leave and then paused and placed his hand on the young man’s shoulder and he waited until Thomas looked at him before continuing. “While it is always your decision to share your thoughts and feelings with another, I do believe it would help ease your heart and mind if you spoke with someone. I would also remind you that Rebecca truly does understand what you are feeling and would probably like to have your comfort and who would probably give you comfort in return,” he said gently. Thomas watched Elrohir walk over and join Erestor and Elladan, pausing briefly to whisper something to Rebecca as he passed. With a sigh, he turned back to the window, his thoughts turned inward once again.

0-0-0

Aragorn read the parchment for the third time, his eyes narrowed in thought as he pondered the request by several of the small hamlets on the Pelennor to enlarge their traditional acreage of plowed fields for various crops and also to plant small fruit orchards. Men from each of the hamlets would appear before him during the court session tomorrow and he would have to give his ruling on their request. Sowing more crops would be a wise thing as they continued to recover from the years of war, but he was uncertain about the orchards which would take years to bear fruit and he wondered if the land would be better used to grow crops the people could use much sooner and then plant trees in a year or two. “Faramir,” he asked, turning to where his Steward was bending over another piece of parchment, “this request from the farmers on the Pelennor.” Faramir nodded. “I do believe that we should allow them to increase the acreage they currently sow, but I do not think the orchards are a good idea at this time, I would rather see that land used for faster growing food crops.” Aragorn looked questioningly at Faramir.

“How much of the Pelennor do you want to see under cultivation?” Faramir responded and Aragorn blinked in surprise. The Steward gave his King a small smile as he continued, “If we give each of these men the additional acreage they request, then men from the other hamlets will also come seeking additional land.”

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully, “And we also need land for grazing and land kept clear for our guardsmen to drill. But we do need more food,” he paused briefly, and then made a decision. “They cannot plant crops now anyway, have someone find out how many farmers there are on the Pelennor and how many acres of land they already have under cultivation. Have a survey done of exactly how much land we have available and then we will figure out how to best use that land. What do you think about the orchards?”

“I enjoy apples,” Faramir grinned, “but I do agree that it would be best to wait another year on the orchards. I would not wait longer than that. Things should be better after harvest next year and I think that planting trees could be done at that time.”

“All right,” Aragorn nodded, pausing as a knock on the door interrupted him. “Enter,” he called.

His secretary poked his head in through the doorway, “Pardon the interruption, my lord, but the lunch you requested has arrived.”

“Thank you, have them bring it in,” Aragorn directed, turning back to Faramir as two servants from the King’s House brought in trays of food and set it out on a table across the room from his desk. He glanced up as the servants were leaving, “Thank you, Nusirile, Alpheth,” he said with a very slight smile. The women curtseyed as they left and as the door closed behind them, he asked Faramir, “Are there any criminal proceedings tomorrow?” Aragorn stood and moved around the desk, motioning for his Steward to join him at the table where they observed the Standing Silence before continuing their discussion.

Faramir grimaced as he sat down, “One, Aragorn and you are not going to be very happy about it.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question, “I am never happy about any of the criminals that come before me.”

“I know,” Faramir sighed, “But I believe this was, in many ways, caused by our lack of care.”

Setting down his fork, Aragorn gave him a hard look. “Why? What happened?”

“A young boy named Bronad was caught breaking into a house. He did so because he has a ten-year old brother and an eight-year old sister and they had no food. His father died in the war and his mother died in the camps when the city was evacuated.”

Aragorn looked appalled, “How old is he and how have they survived this long? Where do they live?”

“He says he is almost fifteen, but he is quite tall and I suspect he may actually be closer to his fourteenth birthday than his fifteenth. He definitely has the blood of Númenor flowing in his veins with his black hair and grey eyes, there is something vaguely familiar about him,” Faramir mused as he narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment before he continued. “They have a house down on the third circle and evidently they had some money and that lasted them for awhile, but it ran out and there are no jobs right now, especially for a boy of his age, which is why he broke into the house.”

“Why were they not in one of the homes we have set aside for the care of orphans?”

“He did not want to be separated from his brother and sister and none of their neighbors reported them to the city guard,” Faramir paused and grimaced again. “They appeared not to have noticed there was no mother or father living in the house anymore, I believe they were just busy trying to rebuild their own lives and as long as Bronad and his brother and sister were quiet, no one paid any attention.”

Aragorn sighed and ran a hand through his hair before throwing a sharp glance at Faramir. “How do we treat a ‘criminal’ such as this, my Lord Prince Steward?” he asked softly.

“This is another one of the times when I am glad that I am not the king, my Lord King Elessar,” he quickly returned.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” the king murmured. “The people who owned the house he broke into, how did they react when they found out the boy’s circumstances?”

“With compassion, they had called for the city guard immediately when they caught him, but when I spoke with them yesterday and explained what had happened, they seemed quite concerned for the boy and his brother and sister.”

“And how has Bronad reacted? Where is he and where are his brother and sister?”

Faramir stared down at his plate and pushed the food around with his fork. “He appears to be very remorseful and frightened, my lord.” Aragorn gave him a questioning look, but Faramir did not see it. “I had the brother and sister taken to one of the orphanages,” he shifted in his chair before looking up at Aragorn and finishing quickly. “I had Bronad taken there too, Aragorn. I could not leave him in a prison cell. He spent one night there when the guardsmen locked him up and I did not hear about him until the next morning. But when I heard the whole story and saw his concern for his…”

“Peace, Faramir,” Aragorn said quietly. “I understand your compassion, though I will still have to come up with a suitable punishment for him. Perhaps I will have him work for a period of time for the people who owned the house,” he frowned. “We cannot allow him to think that if things become difficult for him in the future that he may break into another house, or steal something else and I will just overlook it.” He took a bite of his now cold chicken and chewed it for a moment as he thought. “I assume they have no family.”

“Bronad told me that his mother’s family was gone and he has never known anything about his father’s family. It was something that neither his mother nor father ever talked about.”

“What will we do with them now, Faramir?” he asked.

Faramir looked startled, “Will you not keep them in the orphanage?”

“While I do not approve of what Bronad did, I understand his heart in wanting to take care of his brother and sister and keeping them together as a family and if there were a way to keep them together, I would like to do that.”

“He is very young to have that responsibility, Aragorn,” Faramir gave his King a dubious look.

“I am not suggesting that he have the sole responsibility, yet being a King does give me some resources, Faramir,” Aragorn gave his Steward a half-smile. “If he had a job and if there was a woman there to help with the younger brother and sister during the day at least,” his voice trailed off as he thought. He glanced at Faramir to see he was watching him with a small smile and Aragorn raised an eyebrow in question.

“Are you punishing Bronad or rewarding him?”

Aragorn laughed briefly, “I will meet Bronad before I decide what would be best and he will do his punishment before he learns of any possible change in his future. He will also stay in the orphanage until his sentence is over. I want to see how he responds to the punishment before I make any further decisions. Does that satisfy you?” he asked with a slight smile.

“Yes, my Lord King,” Faramir returned Aragorn’s smile.

0-0-0

It was actually only a short time after Elrohir left him that Thomas shook himself from his own thoughts, realizing that the elf had been right and that he was being unfair to Rebecca. She probably would like to be with him and, if he were honest with himself, he would like to be with her as well. Turning from the window Thomas saw that she was still sitting on the couch with Arwen while Elrond sat in a nearby chair. He hesitantly approached them until Elrond looked up at him, his eyes filled with such kindness and compassion that he could not hold his gaze for long. “Come and join us, Thomas,” the elf-lord invited. Nodding, Thomas moved over to the couch and gave Arwen an imploring look and she smiled graciously and slid over so that he could sit next to Rebecca.

Thomas immediately turned to Rebecca and said quietly, “Forgive me, Rebecca for leaving you alone, I needed to think for awhile, but I’m still sorry.”

Rebecca looked at him for a moment before responding, “I wasn’t exactly alone,” the slight smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes. “I know you sometimes need time to yourself, Thomas, you always have and I don’t mind as long as you don’t shut me out completely. Especially,” she added softly, “when it’s something that concerns both of us and I need you.”

“I finally came to realize that, however I think mostly I came to realize that I needed to be with you,” Thomas admitted, his suddenly intense blue eyes studying her. “I am sorry,” he repeated and Rebecca took his hand.

“It’s all right, Thomas,” she whispered and he sighed quietly in relief before leaning over and quickly and gently kissing her cheek.

“What thoughts drew you away from Rebecca’s side, Thomas?” Elrond inquired.

Startled by the sound of Elrond’s voice as he had almost forgotten the elf-lord was there, Thomas looked at him in surprise and it took him a moment to respond. “Well, I was just thinking about Gandalf and what he will tell us,” he shrugged.

“So I had assumed,” Elrond smiled very faintly. “Rebecca has told us of her fears; will you share yours with us?”

Thomas glanced quickly at Rebecca wondering what her fears were and if they were the same as his, he would have to ask her if they ever had any time alone. Shifting his gaze back to Elrond, Thomas knew that he would have to answer him. That the elf-lord would not be deceived by an answer that was not the truth; it wasn’t that he didn’t want to tell the truth, he just wasn’t totally sure how to express what he feared. Rubbing his hand across his forehead, Thomas struggled to put his feelings into words that made sense. “I think that… my fear… is that I will be… separated from those I… love,” he swallowed hard. “Again,” he added after a moment. He paused, his brow furrowed in thought, “And… or… my heart will be… torn in two,” he finished in a low voice, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor near Elrond’s feet.

“Those are fears that I well understand, Thomas,” Elrond responded quietly and Thomas looked up and met the elf-lord’s eyes with disbelief that quickly faded at the look in his eyes. All of the things he knew about Elrond rapidly went through his mind and he knew that the elf did indeed understand his fears and he nodded slightly. “And while there is nothing I can say that will set your heart at ease, perhaps it helps to know that others have known the same fear and yet have overcome it.”

“It does, Lord Elrond,” Thomas replied, “I know…“ his voice trailed off and he turned toward the door as it opened and Aragorn walked in. He sighed in relief, both at the sight of Aragorn and the abrupt end of the conversation with Elrond.

“You came earlier than you thought,” Rebecca commented, the relief in her voice evident.

“I have a very efficient Steward,” Aragorn replied as he glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on Arwen whose eyes were reflecting her love and concern for him and he nodded his acknowledgment almost imperceptibly. “But,” he looked around again, searching for signs they had eaten, “it is probably later than you think, Rebecca. Have none of you eaten lunch?” When they all shook their heads, he stared hard at the elves in the room. “I know that you do not need to eat, but I do believe you know that mortals are accustomed to eating regularly.” Aragorn crossed to the bell pull near the door and waited impatiently for one of the servants to answer the summons. As he waited he became aware that it was quiet in the room and he thought back to what he had said and, more importantly, how he had said it and he raised his gaze from the floor and looked into the compassionate faces of his elvish family. “Forgive me,” he said quietly, “I should not have spoken to you in such a manner.” The elves inclined their heads, but said nothing.

Glancing between Aragorn and the elves, Rebecca spoke up hesitantly, “I’m not really that hungry. I don’t think I could eat anything right now.”

“I am,” Thomas said, though he too was watching the elves and Aragorn curiously.

“I will order food for you anyway, Rebecca, should you change your mind,” Aragorn said as he opened the door in response to the knock. He spoke quietly to the servant and after shutting the door, headed towards his bedchamber to change out of his formal tunic that he wore when he worked in his office. He was pulling out a more casual tunic from the wardrobe when he sensed Arwen’s presence in the room and he glanced at her before returning to changing his clothes. Arwen’s hands suddenly clasped Aragorn’s as he was unlacing the ties on his tunic and he sighed wearily and leaned his head against the closed door of the cabinet. After a moment, he straightened up and drew Arwen into his arms, [“I am glad you are here with me, meleth-nín. Forgive me again for my harsh words.”]

[“I forgive you, even as I understand why you spoke them, Estel,”] Arwen replied as she began unlacing the rest of the ties on his tunic before helping him take it off. [“Though you should know that it was not done out of lack of care on our part, but because Thomas has just recently begun speaking with us and none wanted to interrupt him.”] Aragorn looked at her with concern and his gaze darted to the door as he wondered if he should go and speak with Thomas, but she laid her hand on his arm. [“It is well, beloved, he has spoken with both Rebecca and Adar and I believe he is doing well now.”] He nodded and she finished lacing up the dark red tunic Aragorn had put on.

[“Thank you,”] he said, taking Arwen into his arms once again and kissing her tenderly, yet deeply for a long moment. Reluctantly, he drew back and, taking her hand, led her back into the sitting room.

0-0-0

No one was speaking as Aragorn and his family walked into the sitting room. The rest of the members of the Fellowship were sitting quietly around the room, except for Gandalf who was out on the balcony smoking his pipe. Legolas looked up at him with an expression of deep sorrow in his eyes and Aragorn was forced to look away. Deciding that a less formal arrangement was needed, Aragorn and his brothers quickly moved a few chairs and couches so that everyone would be seated in a circle in one end of the large room. “Sit here,” he quietly directed Rebecca and Thomas to one end of a long couch and they moved there without a word. Aragorn wondered if Halbarad would return in time. He had sent him to Osgiliath early in the day and had left a message for him at the stables to come here immediately on his return, but he was not sure when he would arrive.

Glancing out the window, Aragorn saw Gandalf knocking the ashes from his pipe and so he joined the others, sitting between Arwen and Rebecca on the couch. He noted that Pippin and Merry had moved closer to Rebecca and Thomas and were sitting on the floor just in front of them, their arms wrapped around their pulled up knees and he was touched by their protectiveness. Legolas was in a chair next to Thomas with Gimli just beyond him, while Frodo, who was absently fingering the glittering star necklace that Arwen had gifted to him, and Sam were sitting in chairs beside Arwen. Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir were sitting on another couch and several other chairs remained empty as they waited for Gandalf and Halbarad. The door behind him opened and Aragorn looked back to see Halbarad walk in, a small frown on his face as he looked around the room before crossing to Aragorn, who stood to greet him.

“You sent for me, my lord?” Halbarad asked with a small bow.

“I did and I do not have time to explain anything now, cousin,” he replied quietly as Gandalf entered the room and took a seat. “You will just have to listen and ask questions if you need to,” Aragorn patted Halbarad’s arm and the ranger nodded and sat down beside Sam. Resuming his own place on the couch, Aragorn took Arwen’s hand in his own as he waited for Gandalf to begin. Feeling Rebecca trembling slightly next to him, he looked at her and saw that while Thomas held one of her hands, her other hand was furiously twisting the tie on the Lothlórien tunic she had chosen to wear. Aragorn gently placed his hand on her knee and she stilled, giving him a grateful look before turning back to Gandalf as he began to speak.

“Since everyone is here, I will not delay any longer,” Gandalf said as he gazed around the room. “Rebecca, Thomas, I know you have many questions, but I hope that what I tell you will answer most of them. I know you are angry that I have not spoken of this before, but I was not at liberty to do so until now.” He paused for a moment and Aragorn could see the compassion in Gandalf’s eyes as he looked at Rebecca and Thomas and then his gaze landed briefly on Aragorn before moving around to the rest of the Fellowship. “When the two of you arrived in Middle-earth and spoke of your home, it did not take me long before I realized that you must be from the future, though I did not share those thoughts with anyone. There was no reason to as it could not be proven. But the name of your home was too similar and your race was obviously the same as Aragorn’s and while I do not doubt that Eru can make other worlds, I did not believe that to be true in this situation.” To Aragorn’s astonishment, Gandalf began tapping his pipe absently against the palm of his hand, something that seemed to indicate nervousness or unease and again he saw compassion in the wizard’s eyes and Aragorn grew increasingly concerned and he glanced at Legolas to see the came concern in his eyes.

“As you know, after I defeated the balrog, I died. However, many of you may not know that my spirit was sent not to Valinor, but instead to where Eru himself dwells, as only He may create, or I suppose in my case, recreate life. Of that time, I will not speak except as it touches on Rebecca and Thomas.” Gandalf paused briefly, “During that time one of the things I was shown was the bus accident that caused you to be thrust back in time.” Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Rebecca and Thomas lean forward on the couch.

“What happened?” Thomas asked, and Aragorn clearly heard the tremble in his voice.

“Then you must know what happened to everyone,” Rebecca said at the same time, only much quieter and she covered Aragorn’s hand that was still resting on her knee and squeezed it hard. Arwen leaned into Aragorn and he let go of her hand, slipping his arm around her and drawing her close.

Gandalf responded softly, “Yes, I do. As you told us, it was snowing very hard and it was very dark, and for a moment all I could watch was this bus as I had never seen one before. I saw the few other… cars on this road and then I watched with horror,” the wizard’s eyes reflected the horror of what he had seen for a moment before he continued. “As the bus began sliding off the road and it hit something similar to a rock…only narrow like a railing… that I was told was made to protect cars from falling off the road. However, the bus appeared to be so tall that when it hit, it instead flipped over this railing and tumbled down a very steep bank and… landed upside down.” Gasps of horror burst out from all of the mortals in the room and Aragorn saw that the eyes of the elves showed deep grief and sorrow.

Aragorn turned to find that Thomas had his arms around Rebecca and was rocking her slightly. Thomas looked at him with grief-stricken eyes when he briefly clasped his shoulder before returning his hand to Rebecca’s knee where she grabbed it again.

“What happened after that?” Merry asked in a shocked and horrified tone.

“Peace, Merry, and I will go on,” Gandalf said in a low voice as he watched Thomas and Rebecca for a moment before continuing in a soft and gentle voice. “Most of the people on the bus died. Rebecca, Thomas, your mothers both died in the crash and, Thomas, your younger brother died as well.” Rebecca let out a low moan and pulled out of Thomas’s arms, jumping to her feet, running towards the balcony door, but she stopped just inside and leaned against the wall, bending over and clutching her stomach as if in deep pain.

Thomas stared at Gandalf in disbelief as he asked in a low and shaking voice. “How do you know? We’re still alive, maybe they’re alive somewhere too.”

“They are not, Thomas,” Gandalf glanced away for a brief moment and Aragorn saw him swallow hard. “I will not describe all that I saw there, Thomas, but you will have to trust me when I say that they are indeed dead.” Thomas buried his head in his hands as he started to weep.

Aragorn looked in dismay between his two children trying to decide which one to comfort when Merry and Pippin made it easier for him by jumping up and heading for Rebecca. Arwen, Elladan and Halbarad quickly followed them so he scooted over on the couch and took Thomas in his arms as he wept. Legolas and Elrohir quickly came and stood behind the couch and began singing soothingly in elvish, while Gimli, Frodo, and Sam gathered near to provide what comfort they could by their mere presence. Thomas wept long and bitterly and when he finally pulled back out of Aragorn’s arms, his eyes were swollen and red and he took the handkerchief Sam pressed into his hand and wiped his eyes and nose as he took deep, shuddering breaths. “Why does it hurt so much, Adar?” he whispered. “I never thought I would see them again anyway and yet to hear they are dead…,” he took another deep breath and wiped away more tears with the back of his hand. He glanced up at Legolas as the elf stroked his head comfortingly and saw his eyes were glimmering with unshed tears.

“Perhaps because before you could picture them living a happy life at your home and it brought you comfort, even if you knew you would never see them again, ion-nín,” Aragorn replied softly.

“You also now have heard how they died,” Elrohir said, “and while I do not totally understand what a bus is, I can imagine it. Yet for you it is very real and the image in your mind must be difficult.”

Thomas nodded and he whispered his agreement before adding, “But Gandalf didn’t say why we are here.”

Frodo looked over his shoulder and then back at Thomas, his blue eyes full of sorrow, “I don’t think he’s finished yet, Thomas.” The rest of them looked at Gandalf who was talking quietly with Elrond and Thomas sighed deeply.

“You’ll get through this, lad,” Gimli said gruffly. “You’ve gotten through tough things before and you’ll get through this.”

“Rebecca! Where is Rebecca?” Thomas suddenly asked as he looked around wildly.

“Peace, ion-nín,” Aragorn laid his hand on Thomas’s arm and pointed over his shoulder to where Rebecca was still quietly crying. “Come,” he stood and pulled Thomas to his feet, embracing him firmly for a long moment and with his arm around Thomas’s shoulder they walked over to join the group around Rebecca. She had dropped to her knees and was being embraced by both Merry and Pippin as she wept brokenly and Aragorn could hear Pippin’s voice speaking soothingly, but could not understand what he was saying. Arwen and Elladan sang quietly to her, while Halbarad gave Aragorn an uncertain glance as he stood close to her, occasionally patting her shoulder.

Thomas stepped hesitantly towards her, “Rebecca?” he called softly and her eyes snapped open and she scrambled to her feet as the hobbits moved out of the way. He held her tightly and whispered meaningless, encouraging murmurs into her ear as she slowly stopped crying with uneven breaths and small hiccups. Thomas pushed the hair off of her face and, realizing she also needed a handkerchief, looked around for one and took the one Merry handed to him and carefully wiped the tears from her eyes before handing it to her.

Aragorn watched them for a moment before turning to Arwen, [“Did she say anything?”]

[“No, this is the first time she has stopped crying,”] her eyes were full of compassion as she returned her gaze to Rebecca and Thomas.

He nodded and turned back to Rebecca, “Sell-nín, I am grieved for your loss and your pain,” he paused and glanced at Thomas, “and yours, ion-nín. You both have been through much already, however I believe that Gandalf has more to share with you… with us. Do you want him to speak with you today or should I ask him to wait?”

After glancing at each other, Thomas answered, “I think we would both like to just get it over with, Adar.” Aragorn nodded and started back towards where they had been seated, he had only gone a few steps, when Rebecca grabbed him from the side and embraced him fiercely for a moment before she hurried on ahead of him. Startled, he watched her go, a slightly puzzled expression on his face.

[“Now you truly are the only parent she has left,”] Arwen remarked.

[“And you.”]

[“Not yet, beloved and perhaps not ever, especially now,”] his wife gave him a serene smile and he nodded in understanding.

As they settled once again, Gandalf gave Rebecca and Thomas a look full of sorrow, “I am grieved that I had to be the bearer of such news.”

“At least we know now,” Rebecca whispered, wiping tears from her eyes before asking, “But why are we here and not… not…” her voice trailed off.

“That question is not easily answered, Rebecca, not even by me.” Gandalf sat back in his chair with a sigh. “After I saw the accident, I had hoped that Eru would tell me that there was one specific reason that you had been sent here, but he was not as forthcoming as I had desired, though he gave me small hints that did not become clear until quite recently.” Gandalf grimaced slightly before continuing, “I have pondered this for several months now and spoken with those I trusted,” he glanced at Elrond, “so, except for one thing, I believe that you came here for many different reasons. To most people some would, perhaps, seem unimportant, unless, of course, you were one of the people affected by your presence here.”

“Then it must have mostly been to save Halbarad,” Rebecca said slowly, glancing at the ranger who was staring at the floor.

“But I had nothing to do with that,” Thomas protested, “so why would I be here?”

“Thomas,” Legolas chided softly, “I have watched the two of you together for over half a year now and I believe I can say with absolute certainty that Rebecca needed you on our journey. Just as you needed her. You were both in such new and difficult situations that you desperately needed each other.” Thomas gave him a reluctant nod, though he did not really believe him as he knew how strong Rebecca was.

“I did, Thomas,” Rebecca said quietly, turning to look directly into his eyes. “You and I have talked many times about how much we’ve needed each other and how glad we weren’t alone here. I know I wouldn’t have made it all the way to the Pelennor without you. I would probably have stayed in Lothlórien,” she glanced at Aragorn who gave her a small smile.

“Besides, I needed you, Thomas,” Gimli spoke up and the others looked at him in confusion and he laughed shortly. “You did save my life at Helm’s Deep,” he pointed out. “It may be a small thing to others, but it’s not to me.” He glared briefly at Gandalf.

“I did say it was important to those affected by their presence, Master Gimli,” Gandalf reminded him. “There is also the time when Aragorn and Éomer were on the causeway at Helm’s Deep and Rebecca drove the orcs back. I am not sure if she saved their lives then or merely made it easier for them to escape, but she clearly made a difference,” he paused for a moment and Sam spoke up.

“There was also the battle we fought against the wargs before we went into Moria,” the hobbit said thoughtfully. “Thomas helped me and Merry kill a warg and I don’t think we could have done it without him and that saved Mr. Frodo.”

Thomas glanced at Aragorn wondering why he was not saying anything, but he had an intent, watchful look on his face as he listened to Gandalf and so Thomas turned his attention back to the wizard. “That is true, Sam. Rebecca and Thomas were in many other battles and we will never know how many lives their very presence saved.” Thomas frowned thoughtfully as he considered Gandalf’s words; he had never thought that perhaps he might have unintentionally saved people that he was not even aware of. It was something he would have to think about at another time. Gandalf continued, “Rebecca also saved many lives with her healing skills…”

“She saved mine!” Pippin said with a small laugh as he rubbed his forehead, breaking the tension in the room and everyone either smiled or chuckled with the hobbit before turning back to Gandalf.

“Yes, Pippin, though I am not sure your life was actually in danger when you fell from that tree,” Gandalf smiled fondly at the hobbit before giving Thomas a strangely intense look. “I know, Thomas that you feel that your presence here does not, perhaps, measure up to some of the things that Rebecca has done, yet I do not agree.” Thomas looked away briefly before meeting Gandalf’s eyes again. “Yes, you did need each other and so that alone required your presence. One of the seemingly unimportant things I was thinking of was you being with Hinhael when he died. It was certainly not necessary and it changed nothing, except to bring comfort to Hinluin and his family and that is always a good thing.”

There really was nothing Thomas could say to that and he did know that Hinluin had been comforted by the return of the brooch and the ring, but it seemed like such a little thing to him, though of course he was glad for his friend and he would do it again if he had too. He paused for a moment as that thought hit him. Would he really be willing to go through that horrible battle again just to be there when Hinhael died so that he could recover the mementos for Hinluin? With a shock, he realized that he would and he wondered at the depths of the friendships he had made here in Middle-earth. He listened again as Gandalf continued his explanation.

“We will never know the full impact that Rebecca and Thomas have had, except to us personally,” he said with a genuine smile of affection as he looked at the two of them. “It is impossible to measure the affect of any one person’s life over the course of a week, let alone the months that they have been here. They have interacted with too many people, in both large and small ways, and could have changed too many different things for us to truly know. However, with the possible exception of Halbarad,” Gandalf turned a thoughtful gaze on the ranger who looked up in surprise. “I do not believe that any of the things we just discussed are the reasons they are in Middle-earth. Without Rebecca’s intervention it is unlikely that you would have lived, Halbarad. As horrible as her injuries were, I do not believe she received the full force of the blows that you would have received.”

“No, I don’t think she did,” Halbarad whispered.

“I’d do it again, Halbarad,” Rebecca said quietly.

“I know you would, lady, and I thank you for doing it the first time,” he said, looking up and meeting her eyes for a brief moment and she smiled.

“In every other situation that occurred,” Gandalf said, “I believe that while Rebecca and Thomas’s presence made it easier or did, in fact, save lives, I do not believe that their presence here was ultimately crucial to the quest to destroy the Ring or the fate of Middle-earth.” Puzzled looks were exchanged all around the room and whispering broke out between Frodo and Sam and between Merry and Pippin.

“Then why?” Rebecca asked her voice full of confusion, “What about what Saruman said?”

“Why were we saved from that accident?” Thomas asked at the same time.

Everyone quieted and looked back to Gandalf who gave them both a gentle smile. “As I told you at the time, much of Saruman’s power was in his voice and he did use that against you. He could sense that you were different and he assumed that you were brought here for some great purpose, and even at that time, I was unsure if you had some larger role to play.” He sighed deeply, “I cannot answer the question of why you were the only ones saved from the bus, Thomas, for I do not know. But I can tell you why you were brought here; all of us, including me, were looking at it the wrong way. You were not brought here to help Middle-earth, although you did so; you are here so that the people of Middle-earth can help you. Or, more specifically, so that someone could help you.”

Thomas tightened his grip on Rebecca’s hand and blinked his eyes several times as he processed what Gandalf had just said and then he turned and looked over Rebecca’s head at Aragorn who was staring at Gandalf with an unreadable expression. He watched as Aragorn took a deep breath and lowered his gaze with a slightly furrowed brow as Arwen spoke softly into his ear. Wondering what he was thinking, Thomas looked back at Rebecca who had not moved since Gandalf had last spoken and he shook her gently, “Rebecca,” he whispered and she looked up at him with glittering eyes and she whispered back.

“I don’t understand any of this, Thomas. It makes no sense.” He nodded in agreement as he listened to the others around the room talking and he rubbed his forehead wearily.

“Do you have no questions?” Gandalf’s commanding voice cut through the other voices in the room and they stilled instantly as Rebecca and Thomas looked at him.

“Yes,” Thomas said slowly and then continued at Gandalf’s nod of encouragement. “It makes no sense to us. Why would Eru…” that must be God, he suddenly realized since they were, in fact, on earth, it was something else he and Rebecca would have to discuss at some future time. “… bring us back in time so that we could have a… father. There are thousands of people in our time without fathers, including,” he swallowed hard and blinked back tears, “my younger brother.”

“I do not know why Eru chose the two of you either, Thomas,” Gandalf spoke softly and his gaze shifted between him and Rebecca. “Just as I do not know why he chose Frodo to bear the Ring or why a woman and a hobbit, not some great warriors, were destined to destroy the witch king or why Hinhael, who had a wife, died and Hinluin lived. Those questions are not easily answered, not even by those considered the wise,” he glanced at Elrond who shook his head slightly. “But for some purpose or reason of his own, Eru saw your hearts or your desires and decided to do this for you, perhaps someday you may ask him yourself,” his smile was gentle and his eyes were kind.

“Well, I’m very thankful for it,” Rebecca said quietly, “even if I don’t think it makes sense to send us way back in time like this.” She leaned over against Aragorn’s shoulder, “As hard as it’s been, I’m glad to have an Adar like Aragorn.” Aragorn bent down and kissed her forehead tenderly, but Thomas noticed that his eyes were still watching Gandalf intently as if he suspected there was something else. He learned he was right when Rebecca asked, “I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell us all of this earlier, Gandalf. Nothing you have said seems to be something we couldn’t have heard about before now.”

Sighing deeply, Gandalf nodded in agreement. “You are right, Rebecca and now we come to the reason why I have waited all of this time. You and Thomas both needed a chance to see what life would be like in Middle-earth in a time of peace. To become comfortable here in Minas Tirith and exploring the world around you, accepting your place in it.” Thomas wrapped his arms around Rebecca as she leaned back into him and he could feel her beginning to tremble as they could both sense where Gandalf was leading. “If you had only endured the horrors of war and not enjoyed the peace of the last months and had not strengthened your relationship with your Adar,” he looked pointedly at Thomas, “and friends,” he glanced around the room at all of the others, “then the choice you must now make, would not be a true choice for you would not have seen the good things about Middle-earth.”

“We have to choose between staying here and going back?” Rebecca asked, her face distraught.

“Yes,” Gandalf said softly, “you have the right now to choose between the two places and once you have chosen you cannot change your mind.”

“But wouldn’t we be dead there?” Thomas asked.

“He said most of the people died, Thomas,” Aragorn reminded him quietly in a voice laced with sorrow. Thomas looked at him and was taken aback at his pain-filled eyes and he nodded once as he remembered Gandalf’s earlier words.

“Aragorn is right and if you return to your own time, you will have some severe injuries, but you will survive them and go on to live normal lives.”

“The injuries will be worse than what we had when we woke up here?” Rebecca asked in surprise.

“Yes, I believe Eru knew what you needed to accomplish,” Gandalf replied wryly, “and yet he also knew that the hearts of the rest of us would be stirred with compassion at the sight of your injuries, so when you awoke here you only had minor ones.” Rebecca gave him a disbelieving look and then nodded.

“Would… would we remember all that has happened to us here?” Thomas asked.

Gandalf looked uncertain and turned to Elrond who, after a moment, said, “I believe that you would retain your memories, Thomas, though I cannot be certain of that. However, I believe that if Eru was giving you the gift of a father,” he glanced at Aragorn briefly, “even for a short time, then I think he would allow you to retain that memory and the skills that you have gained while you are here.”

That settled it as far as Thomas was concerned, Elrond did not sound entirely positive and he was not willing to risk the loss of even the memories of this time. He had nothing to go back for, his mom and brother were dead and he had no other family to draw him back to that time. If he would not even have the memories of this time, then he would not even consider returning, though even with the memories, he doubted he would leave the life he had made here. The modern conveniences were nice and he occasionally missed watching a movie or driving a car, but the longer he was gone, the less he missed those things and so the decision was quickly made. He opened his mouth to tell Gandalf when the wizard held up his hand to forestall him. “This decision is not quickly or lightly made and I advise you both to seek counsel before you decide. You do need to decide before Éomer returns in two days so that if you decide to leave, word can be spread in the city.”

“Why?” Rebecca asked and Thomas suddenly realized that her decision was not going to be as easy as she had many relatives to draw her back – numerous aunts, uncles, and cousins. And she had always wanted to go to college and to write and do many other things. Thomas started to worry and wondered what he would do if she wanted to go, while he wanted to stay. He almost missed the answer.

“Because as my children,” Aragorn said softly, “you cannot just disappear. Some explanation must be given if you choose to leave,” he swallowed hard. “I believe Gandalf has something in mind if that happens.”

“Yes, Aragorn I do. Relatives in the north will have been found and your people will be told they are returning to them. As we will all be returning with Éomer as he takes Théoden’s body back to Edoras, it will seem a reasonable explanation.”

“How will you send us home?” Rebecca asked.

Gandalf snorted and shook his head, “Always so curious, young lady. That I will not tell you, unless you decide to return to the time from which you came. Now, unless you or Thomas or anyone else here has questions about the things we have discussed, I will take my leave.” No one spoke and Gandalf stood and walked over to Rebecca and Thomas and shooed Merry and Pippin aside so he could crouch down in front of them, taking Rebecca’s small hand in his large, gnarled one. He looked at them for a time with his blue eyes that seemed to pierce to the very depths of their souls and then he gave them both a very soft and gentle smile, “I am grieved that I had to be the bearer of all of this, and yet perhaps it comes easier from someone you know and love and who loves you in return.” They nodded and Rebecca wiped a stray tear from her eye. “As I told you earlier today, this would be difficult, but you will be all right. No matter which way you choose, you will be all right.” He patted their knees gently before rising to his feet. “Come, Legolas, Gimli, Master Hobbits, I believe it is time that we returned to our own home.” Muttering small noises of protest under their breath that only Thomas and Rebecca heard – as well as most of the elves, Thomas thought with an inward grin – Merry and Pippin got reluctantly to their feet. Quiet good-byes were exchanged and then the room was quiet for a time before Elrond spoke.

“I believe that Mithrandir is right and perhaps it is best if I take my leave as well. With your permission, ion-nín, I would share this with Galadriel and Celeborn.”

Aragorn glanced sidelong at Rebecca and Thomas before he responded, “Perhaps you should ask Thomas and Rebecca, Adar, it is their story.”

“You can tell whoever you want, Lord Elrond,” Thomas said, rubbing his forehead, “You should probably tell Erestor too since he was there this morning when this all started.”

“Thank you,” Elrond inclined his head before standing, Elladan and Elrohir rose as well and, after a moment, Halbarad stood, though he appeared to be watching Aragorn closely. The three elves left silently, though Elrohir paused briefly to lightly touch both Rebecca and Thomas on their shoulders and he whispered something, almost inaudibly, that neither of them understood before he moved on. Thomas thought it might have been the same language that Aragorn had used earlier in the day and he supposed it was some kind of prayer or something. Halbarad moved to follow the elves, but Aragorn motioned for him to stay and the ranger sat down in the chair next to Arwen. Running his hand through his hair and with a deep sigh, Aragorn turned on the couch and looked at Rebecca and Thomas who returned his gaze with expressions that showed a mixture of fear, confusion, grief, anger, and utter exhaustion. Some of the things he was going to say were driven from his mind and he turned first to their physical needs.

“Halbarad, would you please get us some wine and fruit juice and something simple to eat?” Halbarad nodded and headed for the door. Aragorn got up and dragged two chairs over in front of the couch so he could more easily see Rebecca and Thomas and he glanced at Arwen as she joined him, wrapping her arm under and around his before clasping his hand. “I know I sent Halbarad for food, but would you prefer to go to bed, you both appear to be exhausted,” Aragorn asked quietly as Arwen hummed softly under her breath.

“I’m not sure I could sleep right now,” Rebecca replied and Thomas just shook his head, his eyes narrowed in thought.

“I am not sure what to say to you,” Aragorn admitted. “I cannot begin to imagine the pain you are in right now nor the choice that is before you.” He paused as Halbarad returned and drinks were poured and he noted with concern that Rebecca again did not eat anything. But as she was at least drinking fruit juice, he decided that it was not something to worry about for today, though it was something he was going to be aware of in the next few days. Even in this stressful situation, she needed to take care of herself. Taking a sip of his wine, Aragorn cleared his throat before expressing the thoughts on his heart. “I find myself as amazed as you that Eru would send you back in time. Though,” he gave them a gentle smile, “since he did, I am glad that he chose me to be your foster father. My foster father told me once that he loved me every bit as much as he loved the children of his body,” he glanced at Arwen who nodded. “While I do not have anything to compare it to, I cannot imagine loving children of my body any more than I love the two of you.” Rebecca ducked her head in embarrassment, but Aragorn saw tears trickling down her cheeks, Thomas’s eyes glistened, but otherwise he just looked at Aragorn. “Because of that, however, I will not be able to give you counsel when you need it most.” This time it was Aragorn’s eyes that filled with unshed tears and Arwen leaned against him and he wrapped his arm around her. “I know that my advice would not be unbiased because my Adar’s heart would urge you to stay and I do not know if that is best for you,” he glanced away for a long moment and when he looked back, both Thomas and Rebecca had tears running down their cheeks and he sighed. “Forgive me,” he said quietly, “I did not mean to add to your burden.”

“You’re not,” Rebecca hiccupped through her tears, “It’s just that I don’t know what’s best either and if I can’t ask you then who do I talk to?”

Aragorn saw Thomas pale at Rebecca’s words and he knew that Thomas had already chosen to stay. It did not surprise him as he knew that Thomas had little to draw him to that time except for his mother and brother and with them dead, his life here would be much more appealing to him. Evidently that was not the case for Rebecca and Aragorn suppressed a groan before answering her question. “I suggest you speak with one or more of the elves, sell-nín, particularly the older ones. It is not that I do not believe that Legolas or Haldir or even my brothers do not have enough wisdom, but I think that they are too close to you and it might be difficult for them to give you the counsel you require.”

“All right, Adar,” Rebecca gave him a half-hearted, shaky smile.

Taking a long look at the two of them, Aragorn knew there was one more thing he had to say, especially as it appeared that Thomas had already made his decision. He tightly clasped Arwen’s hand and his voice was very gentle as he spoke.


Chapter 33 - Return to Edoras

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my Beta Readers – J. and Marsha

[…] are used to indicate conversations in elvish and individual elvish words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 33 – Return to Edoras

Dawn had barely lightened the sky when Thomas walked downstairs intending to wake Rebecca and see if she would take a walk with him before the events of the day would overtake them. He was still exhausted from the events of the last two days, but also feeling strangely at peace knowing that his life was now settled. Thomas hadn’t realized just how much he had been burdened by a sense that he could one day disappear from Middle-earth as easily as he had appeared and now that that threat was lifted from him there was a lightness in his spirit that hadn’t been there before. A knowing smile had crossed Gandalf’s lips when he and Rebecca had informed the wizard of their decision the night before and the joy of the members of the Fellowship had brought tears to both of their eyes. The two of them, along with Aragorn and Arwen, had spent several hours at the house with the Fellowship, eating, laughing, and sharing stories. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, Thomas glanced down the hallway and saw, with some surprise, that Rebecca’s guard was not in front of her door and he wondered where she had gone.

Thinking that she might have gone to practice her archery, Thomas turned to the guards inside the main doors of the House and asked them if Rebecca had left the building and at their positive reply, he headed outside to see if he could locate her. He doubted she had left the Citadel, and after a very brief search he found her in the second place he looked – on the point of the keel. Pausing some distance behind her, he leaned on the wall and studied her, wondering if Rebecca wanted to be alone and if he should wait until later. After a moment, he shrugged and moved on as quietly as possible, though he knew his boots made some sound on the white flagstones that paved the Citadel and, indeed, Rebecca looked back at him and smiled. “Good morning, Thomas,” she said as he approached.

“It is a good morning,” he agreed with a grin as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to himself, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head. Thomas knew that no one was around this early and that even if there were, he was willing to risk it this one time. Hearing Rebecca’s sudden intake of breath, he chuckled and leaned over and gently kissed her cheek before straightening and turning his gaze out to the Pelennor without releasing his hold on her. “Why are you out here so early?”

“I was… just thinking about my mom and back home and things like that.”

“Are you regretting your decision?” Thomas asked softly.

“Oh, no,” she said quickly, “but it’s still difficult, Thomas. Isn’t it for you?” Rebecca tried to turn her head to see him and with reluctance he released her and stepped a short distance away.

“Yes, of course it is,” his blue eyes filled with sorrow as he looked down at her, “but I just wanted to make sure you didn’t want to change your mind.”

“I can’t, remember?” she reminded him. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Thomas Morgan,” she teased.

“And you with me,” he responded with a grin before turning serious. “Do you feel different? I feel different now.” Thomas tried to explain, “It’s like… knowing that I won’t suddenly disappear has changed me or made me more comfortable or something.”

“I hadn’t really noticed, maybe because I’ve been thinking about other things, but I suppose maybe it has,” Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know that I ever really worried about it before.”

“I didn’t think I did either, but I must have,” he paused when he saw a servant in the livery of the King’s House approaching.

“My lady, my lord,” the man said, bowing. “Our Lord King and Lady Queen request your presence at breakfast.”

“Now?” Thomas asked, glancing up at the sun which had just finally peeked over the Mountains of Shadow indicating it was barely the first hour, a full hour before they usually ate breakfast.

“Yes, my lord, they await you in their sitting room,” the man bowed again.

“Thank you, we’ll be right there,” Rebecca replied with a smile and the man left. “A private breakfast?” she mused as they started back to the House. “That’s a little unusual.” Thomas nodded his agreement and they walked in silence the rest of the way.

Once inside the House, Thomas looked at Rebecca and noted the leggings and tunic she was wearing, and then glanced down at his own somewhat worn clothing and he wondered if they should change. He had planned to before going to eat in the dining room with everyone, but now he didn’t know if Aragorn and Arwen already had food ready to eat. “Rebecca, should we change our clothes? We’re not really dressed for breakfast,” he whispered.

She looked him over and shrugged, “Let’s ask them, we can always go and change.” Rebecca suddenly grinned, “Did you hear what you just said? We’re worried if we’re dressed up enough to eat breakfast!” Thomas laughed and then knocked on the door to Aragorn and Arwen’s chambers and he was still smiling when Aragorn opened the door and motioned them inside.

“What amuses you two so early in the morning?” he asked as he looked them over with a small smile playing about his lips.

“I’m not sure you’d understand,” Rebecca said, struggling to hold back a giggle and not daring to look at Thomas, who was now grinning and looking at the floor.

Aragorn looked helplessly at Arwen as she joined them and she just shook her head slightly. “You have been outside already this morning?” she asked.

“Yes, I woke up early and wanted to take a walk with Rebecca, but she was already outside and we’ve been talking,” Thomas said, finally having recovered enough to look up.

“Come and sit down,” Aragorn invited, motioning to the table set by the window overlooking the garden, still wondering what had caused them such amusement, but rather glad to see them enjoying themselves. “I know it is rather early for breakfast, but I wanted to speak with you, and with Éomer arriving later today and our departure tomorrow, we will have very little time to do so.”

“I need to pack,” Rebecca suddenly said with a slightly panicked expression. “I knew we were leaving, but I hadn’t even thought about what to take or anything like that.”

“Mistress Lothrín will see to your clothes, Rebecca,” Arwen reassured her with a gentle smile. “Though, if you desire something special, you will need to inform her of that.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose there might be some special clothes I’ll need for feasts and things like that,” she bit her lip to keep from giggling again and she stared down at the table.

“Yes,” Aragorn said slowly, as he glanced between her and Thomas who was smiling at Rebecca. Finally he asked, “What are you two laughing about, Thomas?”

Thomas gave him a sheepish grin before he tried to explain, “I don’t think it will make much sense to you, Adar, Arwen, but as we were coming to your chambers I asked Rebecca whether or not we should change before we ate with you because these clothes aren’t very proper for wearing to a meal here, and it just struck us as funny to be worrying about something like that.” Rebecca’s giggle finally escaped her lips and Thomas grinned at her while Aragorn and Arwen exchanged amused looks.

“You are rather underdressed to be eating with your King and Queen,” Aragorn pointed out with mock severity and Rebecca giggled again while Thomas and Arwen both laughed. Aragorn smiled, knowing that his children needed the release of the tension of the last few days and that laughter was a great healer of hearts. He rose to answer the door and to allow the servants to bring in their breakfast which was quickly put on the table and he dismissed them with quiet words of thanks. After the Standing Silence, they began eating their breakfast of porridge, warm bread, and strawberries and they talked quietly. After a moment, Aragorn noticed there was one small tray that remained covered and he opened it and looked at it with puzzlement.

“What are these?”

“They made them!” Rebecca cried with a smile of delight.

“Cinnamon rolls!” Thomas said with a grin as he grabbed for one.

“Cinnamon rolls?” Aragorn looked at the strange shaped, white covered bread like things sitting on the tray and then at Thomas who was eagerly eating one and then at Rebecca who was smiling as she picked one up and placed it on her plate. “What are these, Rebecca?” he asked, picking one up and smelling it before placing it on his plate. It smelled wonderful even if it looked rather strange. “I assume this is something from your… well, from the future.”

“Yes, they made them in the restaurant… the inn where I worked and I talked with the cook the other day and you have all of the ingredients here and we figured out that he could make them,” she smiled as she took her first bite. “I-I told them we made them in the north,” she hastened to add and he gave her a reassuring smile.

Glancing at Arwen who also had one of the rolls on her plate, he picked up his fork and cut off a small piece of it and put it in his mouth. He was shocked at how sweet it was, but he liked the flavor of the cinnamon with the bread and he slowly swallowed it, aware of the eyes of Rebecca on him and he gave her a small smile. “It is very sweet, but I like the cinnamon with the bread.” Aragorn read the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes and he glanced at Arwen to see that she was having a similar reaction, while Thomas was happily eating another one. “What is this white part on top?” he asked, poking at it with his fork.

“It’s called frosting and it is pretty sweet,” Rebecca admitted. “There isn’t much here in Middle-earth that is very sweet which is something we’ve both missed. But if you like the other part, you could scrape the frosting off and just eat that part if you want.”

“Maybe they’d like cinnamon toast better,” Thomas commented as he glanced at Aragorn and Arwen while finishing up his breakfast.

“What is that?” Arwen asked as she carefully scraped the frosting off and resumed eating the roll.

“Pretty much what it sounds like,” Thomas replied, “toast with butter and then you have a mixture of sugar and a little cinnamon and you sprinkle it on the top of it. It’s very good,” he grinned.

“Why have you not asked for any of these things before?” Aragorn asked with a slight frown as he ate the roll, which he quite enjoyed without the frosting. “You know you can ask for anything to be prepared for you.”

“I never really thought of these things until recently,” Rebecca said, “but now I’m going to try and think of other things we might be able to make here.”

“I wish we could make fudge,” Thomas said with a wistful sigh.

“Me too, I’ll miss it at Christmas.” Rebecca nodded her agreement.

“Do we not have the right ingredients for this… fudge?” Arwen asked.

“No, there is no chocolate or marshmallows here,” Rebecca replied and then she grinned at Aragorn. “You wouldn’t like it though, it would be too sweet for you.” She turned back to Thomas, “Do you know how to make ice cream? I was telling the hobbits about it and I was hoping you might know how to make it.”

Narrowing his eyes in thought for a moment, Thomas slowly shook his head, “No, I don’t think I could do it. I saw it made one time, but I was really little and I don’t really remember how they did it.”

Aragorn watched them talking with a fond look in his eyes and he glanced at Arwen to see her gazing back at him with the same look and his smile changed to a grin for a brief moment. He had never seen his children quite so light in spirit before and though he still saw the weariness and signs of grief in their eyes and knew their grief was not fully dealt with – and would not be for quite some time – he realized that their lightness had to do with knowing that they were finally home. That they would not be yanked away again and that they could fully relax; none of them had known the unseen burden they had all been under in that regard. Glancing out the window and seeing time quickly passing, Aragorn abruptly stood and crossed to a cabinet and took out a small wooden box. He rubbed his thumb absently across the grain of the box as he returned to the table and resumed his seat, smiling at Thomas and Rebecca who had ceased talking and were watching him curiously.

“I have a gift for you, [ion-nín.] The one I had made for you in honor of your eighteenth birthday.” Aragorn slid the box across the table to Thomas and watched as he undid the leather clasp and carefully opened the box. Thomas froze and then looked up at Aragorn with wide and disbelieving eyes.

“But I’m not Dúnedain, Adar.” He took the silver star-shaped brooch out of the box and ran his fingers over it carefully as he looked at the fine etching on it.

“Not by blood, though you certainly have the height,” Aragorn teased before his expression turned serious. “As I told you and Rebecca the other night, you are my children in all but blood and while my brooch will be handed down to the son who will follow me on the throne…”

“Are you sure you will have a son?” Rebecca interrupted.

“Yes, Rebecca, Arwen and I will have a son,” he glanced meaningfully at Arwen with a tender smile. “Remember, I do have a gift of foresight, and, no, I am not telling you how many daughters or other children we will have, because that I have not foreseen. While my gift is always accurate, it does not always appear when I would like it to.” He turned back to Thomas, “But I did want you to have a brooch as well and so I had this made for you and it is almost identical to mine. The silversmith here in Minas Tirith is unused to making them and so it is slightly different, but I am well pleased with it.” Thomas just nodded, still stunned at the gift and wondering at his right to wear it. “[Ion-nín,]” Aragorn said softly and Thomas looked up at him, “if it will help you to accept the rightness of such a gift, know that I spoke with Halbarad, Alvist, and several of the other rangers and they believed it was a fitting gift for you. Most of our young men receive their stars when they are older, but as they are Dúnedain they mature later and do not join the rangers until they are older than you are now.”

“Thank you, Adar, it’s a wonderful gift,” Thomas finally smiled his acceptance and thanks and then asked, with a small grin, “Does it come with a grey cloak?”

Aragorn threw back his head and laughed.

0-0-0

Rebecca stood with Thomas slightly behind and to the left of Aragorn and Arwen as they stood near the Court of the Fountain waiting for Éomer to arrive. Gathered near them were the rest of the members of the Fellowship, along with Prince Faramir, Prince Imrahil and his family, Halbarad, Alvist, and many of the elves. She had been disappointed to learn that Éowyn was not part of the group that accompanied Éomer, but knew that she would see her friend in a few weeks, if only for a short time. There was a stirring at the top of the ramp and then Éomer strode briskly into view, his long, dark green cloak edged with gold trim swirling around him as he approached Aragorn and Arwen with a wide smile on his face. “My Lord Aragorn,” he said, his hand stretched out in greeting. Aragorn clasped his wrist before pulling him into a firm embrace which was returned in kind.

“It is good to see you again, Éomer, my brother,” Aragorn said as he stepped back, smiling.

“And you, Aragorn.”

Aragorn held out his hand to Arwen and she took it and gracefully stepped forward to stand alongside him. “Éomer King, this is my wife, Arwen, Queen of Gondor and Arnor.”

“My Lady Queen,” Éomer took her hand and kissed it briefly, “I am pleased and honored to meet the wife of one I hold as a brother.”

“Éomer King, I am pleased to meet one that my husband holds in such high esteem and to welcome you to our home, if only for a short time,” Arwen said with a warm smile that Éomer returned before glancing at Aragorn.

“I intend to have a long talk with your husband, Lady Arwen about why he kept quiet about his betrothal to you.”

“Oh, I had my reasons,” Aragorn said dryly and Arwen laughed and those within hearing distance joined her. Éomer grinned at Aragorn and then his gaze landed on Thomas and Rebecca and he walked over to greet them. Thomas and Rebecca bowed and curtseyed politely and Éomer just shook his head for a moment as he smiled at them, though it slowly faded and a look of concern crossed his face.

“I’m glad to see you, my Lord King,” Thomas said with a grin, knowing that Éomer had probably seen his and Rebecca’s weariness and grief and trying to divert his attention.

“My Lord King?” Éomer said with a frown, “I believe we have already had this discussion, boy, about what you are allowed to call me.” Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Rebecca laughed and Thomas nodded his agreement.

“Yes, I believe we did,” he said thoughtfully, “although most people call me Lord Thomas now, so perhaps you should as well, Éomer.” Thomas watched Éomer carefully as the people around them chuckled and the King gave him a small smile.

“You have changed,” Éomer commented, “and not just in height. No, I believe we will stay with the original agreement, Thomas.” He grinned, stepping forward and clasping him soundly on the shoulder as he whispered softly, just loud enough for Rebecca to hear, “And you will tell me later what is wrong.” They nodded as he turned to Rebecca and took her hand, kissing it gently. “Lady Rebecca, you appear to have settled in well here.” He kept ahold of her hand.

“Hello, Éomer and yes, I have,” she smiled.

He held up her hand and examined her ring, “I see someone has finally gotten the courage to ask for your hand in marriage,” he commented with a sly smile and sideways glance at Thomas before he released her hand. “I wish you both much joy,” he said softly.

“Thank you,” they both replied with smiles of their own as Éomer moved on to greet the rest of the welcoming party.

0-0-0

Thomas and Rebecca had asked for permission to sit with the other members of the Fellowship instead of at the high table during the welcoming feast for Éomer, but Aragorn had refused, though they were free to join them once the meal was completed and dancing had commenced. They had certain responsibilities and sitting with guests and at the high table was one of them. After they had danced two of the dances that Thomas knew, they made their way to the large table where Haldir and his brothers as well as the members of the Fellowship, except Gandalf, were sitting. It saddened Rebecca to think that soon all of the people at the table would soon be gone from her life and that there was a good chance she might never see some of them again. Thomas pulled a chair out for her and she sat down next to Haldir, while Thomas sat between her and Legolas. The four of them and Gimli talked quietly for a time and then Rebecca happened to glance out at the dance floor and she smiled and pulled on Thomas’s sleeve to get his attention. “Thomas, look,” she nodded in the direction of the dancers where Éomer was dancing with Lothíriel, Prince Imrahil’s daughter. Thomas turned slightly to see what Rebecca was watching and then he smiled.

“He seems to be having a good time,” he commented as he saw the smile on Éomer’s face and he turned back to Rebecca with a grin.

“Perhaps Lothíriel will be the next Queen of Rohan,” Rebecca commented as she continued to watch them.

Thomas laughed, “They just met, Rebecca, give them some time to know each other before you have them married!”

“Women always like to see their male friends married and tied down… even if they’re kings,” Gimli snorted, though his eyes glinted with amusement as he looked at Rebecca.

“Well, someone has to do it,” Rebecca retorted, glancing around the table, noticing that everyone was now listening. “Not one of you is married and all of you are… really old,” she said with a grin. “Thomas is the youngest one here and at least he is betrothed. I think you’re all scared.” The others smiled and laughed.

“Are you sure that none here are married, Lady Rebecca?” Haldir asked with a glimmer of amusement in his eye.

Rebecca look startled and then sheepish as her gaze moved from Haldir to Rúmil and then to Orophin. She knew that none of the Fellowship members were married, but since Haldir had never mentioned a wife, she had just assumed he was not married. Perhaps she was mistaken and she blushed slightly, “Well, I guess I just assumed that you and Rúmil and Orophin weren’t married since I’ve never heard any of you mention a wife. Are all of you married?”

Haldir gave her a very small smile, “Actually, Lady Rebecca none of us are. However, as we have never discussed this, I did not think you should assume such a thing,” his smile widened slightly and Rebecca groaned while the rest of the table laughed.

“Haldir is right, Rebecca,” Legolas said, “many elves, especially the Silvan elves, are very private about such things and, in fact, I would never discuss my family with anyone that I was not close to.” Rebecca nodded and glanced at Haldir out of the corner of her eye and he reassured her quietly.

“We never had the time to discuss our families, Lady Rebecca, or I would have told you that I was not married. Although, I do believe that Rúmil is courting someone,” he commented with a sidelong glance at his brother. Orophin, who spoke more of the common tongue than Rúmil, swiftly translated Haldir’s comment and Rúmil glared briefly at his brother before nodding shyly at Rebecca and dropping his gaze to the table. The conversation moved on then to other things as they enjoyed their last evening together in Minas Tirith.

0-0-0

It was a very solemn procession that left Minas Tirith to bear the body of Théoden King back to Edoras to be buried with his forefathers. Besides Aragorn and his family, all of the members of the Fellowship were part of the escort and would then be returning north to their homes. All of the elves and most of Aragorn’s rangers were also returning home. After much deliberation, Hinluin had decided to stay in the south and would remain one of Aragorn’s personal guards, much to Thomas’s relief. Also accompanying the procession were Prince Faramir, Prince Imrahil and his family, as well as many members of the City Guard, the White Company, and the Swan Knights to protect their respective lords and their families.

A huge crowd of people gathered on the walls and lined the road leading across the Pelennor as the wain bearing the body of Théoden began its journey. All were quiet and respectful, knowing that the Rohirrim had helped save Minas Tirith and flowers soon littered the road in honor of the king who had given his life. Éomer, Marshal Elfhelm, and Marshal Erkenbrand led the procession, and they were closely followed by an honor guard of Riders from the King’s Household that had accompanied Éomer to Minas Tirith. Merry, as Théoden’s esquire, carried the King’s weapons and rode on the wain alongside the golden bier. Aragorn and Arwen rode behind the wain, and strung out behind them in a long train were the rest of the party on horseback. Other wains, carry clothing and supplies, and most of the guards were at the end of the column. Although once they were past the Rammas Echor and on the Great West Road heading towards Edoras, the guards spread out up and down the column to better protect the party. They moved slowly, and a trip that the Rohirrim had made in five days as they rode in defense of Minas Tirith, would now take over two weeks.

0-0-0

The third evening of their journey found Aragorn, Faramir, and Halbarad sitting and talking quietly around a small fire that was lit more for comfort and light than it was needed for heat on the warm summer evening. Arwen had joined her father, brothers, and grandparents while Rebecca and Thomas were off with the rest of the Fellowship. At first the three men talked mostly of things concerning Gondor and Arnor and then, Aragorn noted with amusement, Faramir began steering the conversation towards more personal things. Although why his Steward did not just come out and ask him what he wanted to know puzzled him. Finally, Aragorn asked his own question, “Faramir, is there something you want to ask me? You seem to be hinting at something, but I am not sure what it is.”

Faramir gave his King a slightly guilty look and then smiled, “Yes, I do have a question, Aragorn, but I was trying to decide if it was too personal. If it is, please tell me.” Aragorn nodded, glancing at Halbarad who shrugged. “I wondered if you would tell me what it was like when you served as Thorongil under my grandfather, Ecthelion.” He paused briefly, staring at the fire, before looking up and meeting Aragorn’s eyes. “I have heard stories of those times from… my father and some of the lords who remember you, but I would like to hear what it was like for you.”

Aragorn searched Faramir’s face intently for a long moment and then nodded slowly, “It is a tale that will take some time, Faramir, and parts of it will not be easy for me to tell or for you to hear. For I will tell you the truth as I saw it at the time and while I know there were things I should, perhaps, have done differently, it is the same for your father.” He suddenly smiled, “There are good things to tell of those times as well, for I knew your mother and I saw Boromir when he was quite young.”

“I would hear it all.”

“The only thing I ask is that we wait until our return journey.” Faramir looked at him with a question in his eyes. “I fear it will be a hard time for all of us, saying good bye to those we love and care for, but for Rebecca and Thomas it will be particularly difficult, especially considering what they have just gone through. They know very little of my life and perhaps hearing stories of it will give them something else to think on for a time.”

Faramir nodded and then shot Halbarad a sly grin, “I am sure that Halbarad has a few good stories to tell.”

“One, but it’s about Aragorn and it sounds like we’ll be hearing enough about him,” Halbarad stared into the fire without blinking, while Aragorn let out a small laugh. Faramir stared at the ranger for a moment and then slowly shook his head before he began laughing as well, while Halbarad ignored them both.

“Join us, Éomer,” Aragorn invited, seeing the King standing just at the edge of the firelight and, with just a slight hesitation, he walked forward and sat down between Faramir and Halbarad.

“I thought you were talking with my cousin,” Faramir said, glancing at Éomer.

“I was, until Imrahil and Lady Laereth decided that it was time for Lothíriel to get some rest, saying we had a long ride again tomorrow.”

Aragorn cast a quick glance up at Eärendil to check its progress across the night sky and decided it was not too late, even on this summer evening when the sun set late. Faramir however, gave a small laugh. “My aunt and uncle must be concerned about you, Éomer. Lothíriel is an excellent rider and whether she rests early tonight or not will not make any difference for her.”

“I did notice her riding skills,” Éomer acknowledged with a grin and then he shrugged. “It is just as well, we have many days left before we reach Edoras and I did want to speak with you, Aragorn, about Thomas and Rebecca. I did not have time to speak with them in Minas Tirith about what has happened to cause such… weariness and grief that surrounds them. Or should I wait and speak with them?”

After glancing at the nearby guards, Aragorn lowered his voice before he replied. “I do not believe they would mind if I told you what has happened, Éomer.” He paused to gather his thoughts and then told Éomer all that they had learned in the two days before they had left Minas Tirith and of the decision they had had to make. The King of Rohan listened quietly, his brown eyes focused intently on Aragorn as he spoke.

When Aragorn was finished, Éomer shook his head, “No wonder they are grieving,” he murmured quietly and Aragorn and Halbarad nodded. “But I am pleased for your sake… for all of our sakes,” he said, giving Aragorn a small smile.

“It would have been… difficult had they left,” he acknowledged with a wry smile. “My hope is that now that they know they are staying, it will allow them to settle even more fully. Especially Thomas, though he had been doing better the last few weeks,” he said glancing at Faramir and Halbarad.

“He had been,” Faramir agreed with a nod, “I noticed it as we worked together. He seemed more content, more at peace with himself than he had been before.”

“That was because he was betrothed,” Halbarad commented and the men laughed.

“Speaking of betrothals,” Faramir said, looking at his future brother-in-law. “How is Éowyn? I was disappointed that she did not accompany you.”

“She wanted to come, Faramir, but there was much to do to prepare for the funeral.” Éomer shrugged, “She appears to be well otherwise, we do not often have time to talk as I have been spending much of my time with my councilors working to restore the damage done by the years of Gríma’s influence and the effects of the war.” He glanced between the three men, “It takes a lot of time, as you well know,” they murmured their agreement.

“I fear, Faramir, that a brother is a very poor source of information if you want to find out how your lady fares. I found it ever so when I spoke to Elladan and Elrohir about Arwen,” Aragorn gave a gentle laugh at the frown that crossed Faramir’s face.

“You are speaking of me, beloved?” Arwen’s low voice spoke from the darkness and she walked up behind Aragorn and lightly laid her hand on his shoulder. He twisted his head up and around and smiled at her as he covered her hand with his own.

“Will you join us?”

“No, I am going to seek my rest now.”

“Then I will join you,” Aragorn stood gracefully to his feet and wished the others good night before escorting Arwen to their tent.

0-0-0

Halfway back in the procession, Rebecca shifted uncomfortably on Merilvor as she rode in the hot sun of late afternoon a short distance behind Thomas and the hobbits. She had come to realize that the time spent in Minas Tirith had made her soft and these past few days spent in the saddle had been somewhat difficult. Smiling inwardly at the thought of this being difficult after the things she had done, she glanced up at the White Mountains towering above her on the left. This part of Gondor, Anórien, was so different from southern Gondor - what she had actually seen of it as they had raced through it, she thought with amusement. But this land seemed wilder and less populated, though they had passed through what appeared to be a few very small farming communities. But it was a pretty area and reminded Rebecca of some of the land she had seen in parts of Montana as they had crossed that state on the bus as they traveled to Portland. She quickly shook her head, wanting to drive that image from her mind. Biting her lip, she focused on the hobbits in front of her, straining to hear what they were talking about, but it was no use. Traveling to Edoras had been a pleasant distraction, but the times when she was alone, Rebecca’s thoughts were almost always drawn back to that trip or to that time. She did not regret her decision in any way, she knew without a doubt it was the right one. It was the loss of her mom that she was struggling with the most and the grief of that loss would appear at the most unexpected times and over things that surprised her, like now as she looked at the landscape. Aragorn and Arwen had told her it would take time, but she wondered how long that might be. Rebecca blinked back tears as she struggled to bring her emotions under control.

“Your thoughts are far from here, Lady Rebecca,” Legolas’s quiet, compassionate voice sounded next to her and she turned to her right, surprised to see him and Gimli riding alongside her.

Stroking Merilvor’s neck, Rebecca stared at the ground for a moment before she replied in a low voice, “They are, Legolas.” She shrugged, “For some reason the land around here reminded me of something to do with my mom. It’s the strangest thing,” she added, “how the smallest, most unexpected things will remind me of her or that time.”

“Ah, but that is to be expected,” Legolas smiled softy and his eyes were filled with compassion. “Your grief is very new,” he said in a gentle voice, “and tears and laughter will come and go as the weeks pass. Healing takes time.”

“That’s what Aragorn and Arwen said,” she said with a small smile, glancing between her two friends. “I know it’ll get better.”

“Do you speak with Thomas about what you are feeling?” Legolas asked.

“Oh sure,” she shrugged again and a genuine smile lit her face. “And Aragorn, Arwen, Lord Elladan, Erestor, Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn,” she paused and narrowed her eyes in thought, “I think that’s everyone… no, I even spoke very briefly with Halbarad.”

“It would be brief if you spoke with him,” Gimli said gruffly and Rebecca and Legolas laughed, causing Thomas and the hobbits to glance back.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Rebecca asked as she took a drink from her waterskin.

“I have an idea, [mellon nín,”] Legolas replied with a smile, but he indicated she should continue.

“Well, except for the fact that we are going very, very slowly, there are a lot more people, and we have good food and clothing and things like that, it reminds of the days when Thomas and I first got here,” she grinned at Gimli’s look of disbelief.

“How can you compare the two?” he sputtered.

“I’m out in the wilds with my friends, Gimli,” she replied. “Although, I suppose we weren’t really friends then. You two weren’t even friends then,” she reminded them with a laugh. Gimli began muttering under his breath in what Rebecca supposed were some kind of dwarvish curses, while Legolas gave her an amused look before gazing at Thomas who had slowed Baldor and now rode alongside Rebecca.

“Does this remind you of the days when you first arrived here, Thomas?” Legolas asked.

“This? Do you mean traveling like this? Is that what you’ve been talking about?” he glanced between the three of them and saw Gimli muttering to himself, Rebecca smiling down at her saddle, and Legolas just looking generally amused as he nodded in response to Thomas’s questions. Sensing he needed to be careful for there was obviously something going on between the three of them, Thomas answered slowly and with a slight frown, “No, it doesn’t. I didn’t have a horse, for one thing,” he watched the others for their reactions, suddenly wishing he had stayed with the hobbits. “Does it remind you of that time?”

“No,” Gimli said firmly and with a slight scowl at Rebecca, who laughed.

“”All right, Gimli, it’s not the same, I just said it reminded me of it because we’re all traveling together. But I am right when I say that you and Legolas weren’t friends then, aren’t I, Thomas?” she looked at him and grinned.

Thomas gave her a blank stare wondering why the question had even come up and he finally just shrugged, “They are now and that’s all that matters.” He hurriedly changed the subject, “Legolas, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for awhile. Aragorn once told me that mortals don’t usually go to your home and I was wondering if that was always true and if it applied to everyone.”

Legolas smiled, “I assume you asking because you would like to visit someday?” his gaze moved from Thomas to Rebecca and they both nodded. “It is unusual, but as I am taking Gimli with me now, I believe that you would also be allowed to visit. However, I do not plan to be there often in the years ahead since I will be moving to Ithilien and, of course, you will always be welcome in my home there.”

“Your home will be further away, Gimli,” Rebecca sighed, “but at least it’s not as far as the Shire.”

“We’ll see them again,” Thomas said reassuringly, “Aragorn will have to travel to Arnor to see to that part of his kingdom and we’ll go with him.” Rebecca nodded and then smiled as the signal was given to set up camp for the night. Leaving Legolas and Gimli behind, the two of them urged their horses forward to where Aragorn and Arwen had dismounted and they greeted them as they swung down from their horses. The four of them spoke quietly for a moment and then rangers came and took Aragorn and Arwen’s horses away to care for them and the two of them walked away while Rebecca and Thomas turned to stripping off their tack and grooming their own horses. While others would have cared for their horses as well, Thomas enjoyed doing it himself and Halbarad was still insisting that Rebecca do it herself – not that she minded. They were just finishing when Éomer strolled up and without saying a word to them he began looking Merilvor over, running his hands over her back, up and down the legs, across the withers, before ending up at the head and checking the horse’s eyes, ears, and mouth, murmuring quietly in Rohirric the whole time. Rebecca and Thomas stopped working and just stood watching the King as he examined Rebecca’s horse.

“She’s a beautiful horse, Rebecca,” he said with a grin when he had finished.

“Thanks, I’ve only had her for a couple of weeks, Adar and Halbarad got her for me.”

Éomer looked puzzled for a moment and then a look of understanding filled his eyes, “Do you call Aragorn, Adar?” he asked quietly. They both nodded and he looked at Thomas with even more surprise in his eyes. Éomer rubbed Merilvor’s nose as he spoke, “He is a good man and I imagine he is a good father to both of you.” They murmured their agreement and he continued. “Aragorn has told me what has happened, what Gandalf told you and I wanted to tell you that I grieve deeply for you in your loss.”

“Thank you, Éomer,” Thomas said, looking into the distance and tapping the horse brush idly against the palm of his hand. “It’s been difficult,” his gaze shifted back to the King. “The only good part is that now I know I won’t just be taken away from here.”

“And for that I am thankful, I would miss both of you,” Éomer smiled and clasped Thomas hard on his shoulder before turning his gaze to Rebecca. She had one hand resting on Merilvor’s neck and she was absently twisting her fingers through the horse’s mane as she gave Éomer a wan smile.

“I’d miss you too, Éomer, and thank you. As Thomas said, it’s been very hard, but if I have to be without my… mom, then this is a good place to be. I do have a wonderful family here, though many of them are leaving,” she frowned, “and that will be hard too,” she finished with a whisper. Thomas stepped over to her and took her in his arms and held her close, rubbing her back soothingly for a brief moment before letting her go and grasping her hand.

“It will be hard to see them go,” Éomer acknowledged, “even when you know how they long for their own lands and homes. But I think you will find, Lady Rebecca, that those who are left in Minas Tirith will be a great source of comfort.”

“Oh, I know that, Éomer, they have been and will be and I will adjust,” she paused, “again. Distances in Middle-earth are just so difficult to overcome and I wish there were a way to see them more often.”

“We need a phone,” Thomas whispered with a grin. At Éomer’s questioning look, he quickly tried to explain. “It’s a device… a box with, well… string like things in it, and you can talk to people anywhere in the world who have another phone.”

Shaking his head with a look of either disbelief or amazement, Éomer said quietly, “It would be a wonderful thing to have, but you will have to be content with writing letters.”

“Éowyn and I have written a couple and that’s been nice.”

“She has also enjoyed them. Now, I believe that supper is being served over at our tents and if you are finished with your horses, I will walk with you.” Rebecca and Thomas quickly stored their brushes in their saddlebags and set their tack out of the way before walking with Éomer to where supper was being served.

“Éomer,” Thomas asked in a low voice, “I-I’m not sure if this is proper to ask or not, but what happened to your parents? I know that Théoden was your uncle and you are not that old. I mean, to have lost both of your parents.”

Éomer smiled faintly and shook his head, “No, I am only twenty-eight and very young to be King, Thomas. My father was killed by orcs when I was twelve and my mother died soon after of a wasting sickness. As she was Théoden’s younger sister, he brought me and Éowyn to Edoras and into his household and was like a father to us. In some ways, it is not unlike you and Lady Rebecca. When my cousin, Théodred died, I became the heir to the throne of Rohan.”

“I’m sorry for your losses, Éomer,” Rebecca said, slowly shaking her head, “You’ve lost most of your family, too.”

“Except for Éowyn,” he nodded in agreement. “And, Faramir,” he raised his voice slightly and Rebecca and Thomas looked at him in surprise before noticing that they had reached the area where supper was being served and Faramir was sitting and eating with some of the others. “Faramir will be taking Éowyn to Minas Tirith next summer and I will be all alone at Edoras,” he said, giving Thomas and Rebecca a sly smile.

Faramir stared at Éomer for a moment and then shrugged and returned to his food while Aragorn laughed, “I am sure you will be able to find someone, Éomer, so that you will not be alone for long.” He cast a meaningful look in the direction of Prince Imrahil’s tents and Éomer just grinned before moving off to get his own food. Aragorn looked up at Rebecca and Thomas with a discerning eye, “How do you fare?”

“I’m tired,” Rebecca said as she sank down onto the ground between Arwen and Halbarad. Thomas just nodded somewhat absently before he walked over to get food for Rebecca and himself. Aragorn watched him go with narrowed eyes, deciding that he would find time later to talk to him.

0-0-0

Aragorn and Arwen sat quietly by the fire, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her as they watched the burning wood slowly turn ash white and then break and fall into the bed of coals, sending sparks crackling upward into the star-filled sky. Aragorn knew they should be sleeping, the others had left long ago, but the two of them had had little time alone on this trip and they were enjoying themselves. When they reached Edoras he knew they would have few opportunities to be alone as their duties would require them to be involved in the official functions that surrounded the funeral. Pressing a kiss onto Arwen’s temple where it lay against his chest, Aragorn murmured, [“We should seek our rest, meleth-nín,”] though he made no move to get up.

[“We should,”] she agreed, turning her head and smiling up at him, [“We will be tired tomorrow.”]

Aragorn nodded, though his eyes gleamed as he bent down and kissed her lips, tenderly at first and then deeper and more passionately. A slight sound made him aware of the ever present guards who were surrounding the tent area and with a frustrated growl that made Arwen laugh quietly; he drew back away from her and stood, helping her to her feet. [“Come, meleth-nín.”] With a small scowl at one of the city guardsmen, who was steadily looking in the other direction, he led Arwen into their tent.

0-0-0

“Good morning, Adar,” Thomas said, glancing up at Aragorn from where he sat alongside a small stream near the encampment, his arms resting loosely on top of his pulled up knees.

“You are paying attention to your surroundings this morning, Thomas,” Aragorn said with a small smile as he sat down beside him.

Thomas grinned and shook his head, “I don’t think you were trying to be quiet and besides,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “the city guardsmen are on duty, not your rangers and they aren’t very quiet.”

Aragorn smiled and nodded his agreement as he pulled his pipe from his tunic and began filling it. Thomas watched him curiously, wondering why Aragorn had come to speak with him, but he just waited and when the pipe had been lit, Aragorn finally spoke again. “Last night you did not answer my question when I asked how you fared. Are you all right, Thomas?”

“I’m doing all right,” he replied slowly and with a slight frown, trying to remember back to the night before. “I was just thinking about other things and wasn’t really paying attention,” he admitted.

Looking him over closely, Aragorn could see the shadows of grief that still darkened his eyes, it had lessened from what it had been, but it was still visible… at least to those who knew Thomas well. “What were you thinking about?” he asked gently, turning his gaze back to the stream.

“Oh, things Éomer had told me and Rebecca mostly,” he answered, picking up a couple of pebbles and rolling them around in his hand. Aragorn waited patiently for Thomas to continue. “Did you know that Éomer’s father died when he was young?” Aragorn nodded. “It just struck me as strange that his father and your father and Rebecca’s and mine all died when we were so young,” Thomas shrugged. “Frodo’s did too,” he added after a moment. “I was wondering why… ” his voice trailed off and he threw the pebbles into the water one by one and dusted off his hands. He shrugged, glancing over at Aragorn, “That’s what I was thinking about last night when you asked me.”

“Hmmm,” Aragorn studied Thomas intently for a moment. “As Gandalf told you, those types of questions are not easily answered, not even by those considered the wise, and I do not number myself among those, Thomas. The only wisdom I have comes from living a long life as mortals reckon such things. As for why your father died, I know not,” a frown crossed his face. “This is very difficult for me to say, Thomas, but I do know that for me,” he paused and a shadow of remembered pain crossed his face, “I will not speak of my naneth’s grief for it was deep and something I did not fully understand until I became betrothed to Arwen. But for me… for my people, as I look back on my life thus far… my father’s death ultimately led to good things.” Aragorn looked at Thomas, but he was staring at the ground and he quietly continued. “If my father had lived, I would not have been raised in Rivendell and learned all the things I needed to learn in order to lead my people to where we are now – Sauron defeated and a reunited Kingdom. I would not have had the skills and the courage to travel alone for the many years I did to Rohan, to Gondor, to Harad, and to other places to learn of my allies and my enemies. My forefathers did not do those things. And,” Aragorn’s voice softened to almost a whisper, “I would not have met and become betrothed to Arwen, whose love and faith in me gave me the strength to go on during the long, dark days when all hope seemed lost.” Thomas looked up at that and Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder, “But, Thomas, unlike you, I have no memories of my father and so it is, perhaps, easier for me to see things in that light.”

“I suppose it’s worked out for you and Middle-earth,” Thomas conceded, “but for me,” he paused and his eyes glimmered with unshed tears, “I don’t see any point to it, the war was so close to being over and he almost survived, it just seems senseless.”

Aragorn sighed deeply, his eyes not leaving Thomas’s, “You will not like what I am going to say, yet I am going to say it anyway. You are young yet, Thomas and perhaps as you age you will discover some purpose that you cannot see now. Or, perhaps, it was simply the time Eru appointed for him to die. I know not.” He paused briefly, absently twisting the long finished pipe in his hands. “Do you know how your father died? I know it happened a long way away from where you lived, but from things you have said of that time, I wondered if anyone ever told you what had happened.”

“Not really, we got a message from the government that told us he had died and then one of his friends wrote my mom a letter and told us a little more. I could always picture it though. In fact,” he glanced at Aragorn, “that dream I kept having in Ithilien was of my father dying. I first started having it right after he died and I had it for a couple of years, but here,” he gave Aragorn a wan smile, “you started replacing my father in the dream and so I was watching you die over and over.” He shuddered and Aragorn gripped his shoulder tightly.

“I am sorry, [ion-nín,”] he said quietly, feeling suddenly out of his depth and not sure how to bring comfort in a situation where there truly were no answers that would satisfy the questions his son was asking, but Thomas surprised him.

“Aragorn… Adar, I know these are questions that really can’t be answered. Not by you and definitely not by me,” he stared out at the stream, where the sun shining through the trees was beginning to reflect off of the swirling water. “That there are things in life that just happen,” he paused, glancing at Aragorn, “but it doesn’t mean I don’t have questions.” Thomas rubbed his forehead and frowned, “I know that Eru or the Valar or God… I still have to figure that out,” he mumbled.

“Figure what out?”

Thomas shook his head, “I’ll tell you some other time. I know it’s like Gandalf said, that Eru does things for his own reasons and I guess I have to trust in that. But that’s hard to do when it’s your father… your family that’s dead,” he lowered his head and rested his chin on his knees.

Aragorn had wondered when Thomas was going to bring up the rest of his family, but perhaps it was easier to speak of a father who had died long ago, than to speak of a mother and a brother who had died recently. He glanced up as Arwen walked through the trees and when she paused and gave him a questioning look, he hesitated and, after glancing at Thomas, shook his head and she started to slip away.

“Arwen can join us, I care not,” Thomas said, surprising Aragorn that he had even noticed her. “I’ve been here so long I’m starting to talk like you,” Thomas said with a small laugh as Aragorn called out to Arwen.

Aragorn laughed, “It did sound rather strange coming from you, but I am sure that your speech will change over the years.” He took Arwen’s hand as she sat gracefully on the grass beside him and murmured a good morning to Thomas who nodded. Turning back to their discussion, he continued softly, “It is difficult for you to trust that there is some reason all of this happened and if Gandalf could not answer that, then I certainly cannot. I only know that there is always some purpose that we cannot see.”

“I know, I know, Adar,” Thomas rubbed his head in frustration and then nodded abruptly, signaling an end to his part of the conversation and he looked at Arwen. “Did you come to get us because breakfast is ready?”

“No, I came to find Estel, though I do believe that food is being served. She smiled softly and her eyes were filled with understanding as she gazed at Thomas, “Be at peace and do not despair of finding the answers you seek, they will come in time. But do not let your seeking overwhelm you and rob you of the joys of life.”

“I wouldn’t…” Thomas started to say and then nodded slowly, “Thank you, Arwen, I’ll try.” He turned to Aragorn, “and thank you, Adar, for listening… for everything.”

Aragorn smiled, “You are welcome, [ion-nín.] Now, come and eat. We will be leaving soon,” he stood and helped Arwen to her feet and then held his hand down to Thomas. Grabbing his hand, Aragorn pulled Thomas up and embraced him firmly for a moment before they headed back to camp.

0-0-0

They continued on their unhurried pace towards Edoras, undisturbed by inclement weather or by any threats to their safety. Several days before they arrived, they stopped early, having come to a wide, grassy meadow with a small spring nearby. After horses were cared for and the camp was set up, some of the men and elves went to a level area of the meadow to practice their swordplay. Arwen and Rebecca trailed along behind them, Rebecca carrying her bow in hopes that someone might be willing to shoot with her when they were done practicing with their swords. Sitting under a tree along the edge of the meadow they were soon joined by Elrohir, Haldir, and Legolas.

“Are you going to practice, Lady Rebecca?” Haldir inquired.

“If anyone will shoot with me, I will,” she replied not taking her eyes off of the scene in front of her, wincing when Thomas was struck by Faramir’s blade.

“I am going to shoot,” Legolas spoke up and Haldir nodded his agreement.

“I should have brought my bow,” Arwen said.

“You may borrow mine,” Elrohir offered and Arwen nodded.

“You know how to use a bow?” Rebecca asked, turning to her with a surprised look.

Amused smiles crossed the faces of the three males elves while Arwen explained gently, “Yes, Rebecca, I do. I learned many thousands of years ago and I also know how to wield a knife such as Legolas uses. Even in such a protected place as Imladris it is wise to know how to defend oneself, especially as I traveled often between there and Lothlórien.”

“I’m just surprised that I didn’t know, though Adar did tell me one time that female elves could be trained as warriors.”

“Rebecca, I have lived a very long time and so it is not too surprising that you do not know everything about me yet,” Arwen’s voice was lightly teasing. “We have not known each other very long.”

Blushing slightly, Rebecca nodded, “No, we haven’t. When we get home, maybe you can come and shoot with me in the morning sometime,” she invited. “Haldir won’t be there anymore and it’s more fun to shoot with someone.”

“Thank you, perhaps I will.”

They turned back to watching the sparring and soon they were joined by Thomas and Faramir as they finished their match. Rebecca had never watched some of those who were sparring and she was awed as she watched Glorfindel and Celeborn dance gracefully around each other as they probed for openings and then came together in a flurry of gold and silver hair, their swords moving so swiftly that she never could tell whose was whose. She didn’t know how long they actually struggled against each other and how they each seemed to know when to stop, but stop they did and evidently both were satisfied with a draw, because Celeborn had a somewhat pleased expression that even she could read, while Glorfindel was openly smiling as they came to join them on the sidelines. Aragorn had just finished defeating Éomer in their match while Halbarad was sparring with Pippin when those that were going to practice their archery gathered their things and Elrohir and Legolas left to set up some wood they were going to use for targets. Faramir decided to join them, saying he wanted to have an opportunity to shoot with the elves and observe their skills. He glanced at Rebecca with a smile.

“They seem to have taught you well.”

She shrugged, “Haldir is a good teacher.”

“You worked hard, Lady Rebecca,” Haldir said quietly as he stood, helping her to her feet and she smiled slightly in acknowledgement of his words.

Stringing her bow, she walked beside Arwen who was doing the same to Elrohir’s bow. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and looked at it carefully; Haldir had given her a new set of elven made arrows to replace the ones she had used during the battles. “How far can you shoot?” she asked Arwen.

“About a hundred twenty yards, when I have been practicing regularly.”

“That’s a long way!”

“I am an elf and my strength is only slightly less than that of a male elf, Rebecca.”

Rebecca just shook her head as they reached the targets and watched as Legolas and Haldir started to shoot, with Faramir watching them intently. They really didn’t shoot from much further back than where Arwen had said she would, maybe another twenty yards. The two elves seemed to be teasing each other, but it was in the other elvish language that was used in Lothlórien and she couldn’t understand what they were saying. She smiled up at Aragorn and Halbarad as they joined them, both of them also having their bows. Aragorn wrapped his arm around Arwen’s waist and drew her close to his side.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen either of you shoot before,” Rebecca said, glancing between the two men.

“I’ve used my sword more for fighting and my bow mostly for hunting recently,” Aragorn said after a moments thought, “and I did not do any hunting on our journey. I do practice with it quite frequently, but you have never been there on those mornings.”

“Lady Rebecca, come and shoot,” Legolas called as he finished pulling his arrows from the target. She was finally able to shoot from the same distance that she had prior to her injury and she strode confidently up to a spot about sixty yards from the target. “Are you sure you want to shoot from that far,” Legolas whispered with a smile. “There are a lot of people watching.” He glanced at the group of spectators talking quietly behind her.

She gave him an annoyed glare. “Thanks for reminding me, Legolas. But I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’ve shot in a lot more pressure filled situations than this.” Turning back to the target she nocked her first arrow and raised her bow and prepared to shoot when someone coughed loudly and she lowered it with a frown. While people talking didn’t bother her, this was different. Deciding to ignore whoever it was she lifted her bow again when the same thing happened. With a sigh, Rebecca turned to those watching and her eyes were immediately drawn to Pippin and she saw that his eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Pippin, do you have a cold? Do you need me to make you some herbal tea?”

“I’m just fine,” he quickly replied with a grin.

“Well, if you cough anymore, I’ll make you one that is every bit as tasty as the ones Aragorn used to make me and I’m sure that I can find someone around here to make sure that you drink it. No one wants you to become sick,” she said with a smile of her own and those around them laughed and after a moment, Pippin joined them with a slight bow towards Rebecca. She turned back to the target and this time was able to shoot without interruption, quickly emptying her quiver, all but one arrow landing very near the center of the target. Frowning at the arrow that had gone astray as she walked to the target to pull them out, Rebecca knew she had hurried the shot and it disappointed her. Returning the arrows to her quiver, she hurried back to where the others had moved so that she could watch Faramir, Aragorn, and Halbarad shoot, which was somewhere around one hundred yards. Faramir’s bow was different than either of the other two men’s, it was more like the bows of the Galadhrim – though much simpler in design than an elvish bow. As she watched them shoot, Rebecca decided that while Aragorn and Halbarad were both excellent, Faramir was a better archer than either of them. It surprised her since they were so much older than he was, but she did know that he had used a bow as his primary weapon in his ranger days. She grinned at Thomas as he sat down beside her.

“You shot well,” he commented.

“Thanks. Faramir is very good.” Thomas nodded his agreement, leaning back on his hands and watching intently.

Pippin soon joined them and as Faramir and Halbarad finished they also came and sat with them, leaving Aragorn with Arwen as she prepared to shoot. “You’re very good, Faramir,” Rebecca said as he sat down next to Thomas. “I never saw Boromir with a bow, did he know how?”

Faramir smiled, “Thank you, Lady Rebecca, and yes, my brother did know how to use a bow, but it was never his favorite weapon. However, I always enjoyed the feel of it and it was something I practiced for several hours a day as a boy. As I grew older and knew I would be serving in Ithilien, it became clear that it was a skill I would need and that prompted me to work on it even more intensely.”

“Didn’t you use swords?” Thomas asked with a frown.

Faramir just looked at him and then said dryly, “Oh, on occasion, Thomas.” He shook his head slightly, “While it is true that bows were our main weapon as we mostly attacked the enemy from ambush, we would then go to our swords when our arrows were spent.”

Thomas gave him a sheepish grin and they turned to watch Arwen shoot. Watching the graceful way in which Arwen shot, Rebecca noticed that while she shot much like Elladan and Elrohir, there was something about her that reminded Rebecca of Haldir. She leaned over and asked quietly, “Haldir, did you train Arwen too?”

“No, I am only a few hundred years older than her, but she spent much time in Lothlórien over the centuries and we often practiced together and I may have taught her a few things,” his blue eyes glimmered briefly with amusement for some reason that Rebecca didn’t understand. Turning back to watch Arwen she smiled as Aragorn tried to distract his wife, but the elf was able to block him out and her quiver was soon empty. The King and Queen walked hand in hand down to collect her arrows, speaking quietly to one another as the rest of the assembled archers and onlookers stood and headed back to the encampment in search of supper.

0-0-0

They reached Edoras on Urimë 7 and the long, solemn procession wound up the hill and through the city gates shortly before noon. Many of the people of Rohan had gathered for the funeral of Théoden King and the streets were crowded, yet silent as Éomer led the way up to Meduseld where Éowyn stood outside waiting. As the wain came to a halt at the bottom of the steps leading into the Golden Hall, the rest of those in the company pulled their horses off to the side and dismounted so that those from Rohan could see and honor their fallen King. Their horses were led away by stable hands and so the party from Gondor stood quietly as the bier was carefully lifted from the wain by six Riders from the King’s Household. The Riders followed Éomer and they ascended the stairs, followed closely by Merry, who was carrying Théoden’s weapons once again. Marshal Elfhelm nodded to Aragorn and the King of Gondor and the rest of the company trailed behind Merry and up into Meduseld itself.

Inside the Golden Hall, the bier was laid gently on a raised stand halfway between the dais and the huge fire pit in the center of the room. The hall filled with people and Rebecca noticed everyone was wearing a similar style of clothing and she supposed it must be something worn for those in mourning. Even Éowyn, who was standing next to Éomer on the dais, was wearing it and her dress was of a very dark color – either black or a very dark green, Rebecca could not tell from a distance. If not for the small gold circlet Éowyn wore, Rebecca might not have recognized her; the difference caused by wearing a dress other than white and the expression of grief on her face, changed her countenance to such a degree that she was surprised by the transformation. But the grief she saw in Éowyn brought her own to the surface and she sighed softly and looked away, hardly listening to Éomer’s words as he praised the deeds of his uncle. A warm hand slipped into hers and she started in surprise, knowing that Thomas was standing several feet away and on her other side. Rebecca looked down and saw Pippin eyeing her with compassion and understanding before he turned his attention back to Éomer and, comforted, she did the same.

“… King served the land of Rohan faithfully and for long years and his great deeds at Helm’s Deep and on the fields of the Pelennor before the city of Minas Tirith will be remembered down through the years in the stories of our people.” Éomer spoke in a strong, clear voice that filled the hall, yet did not overwhelm the listeners. “In three days we will gather at the tenth hour to bury Théoden King in the manner of our people, until that time, let us remember him in the way that each person deems appropriate.” He paused and took Éowyn’s hand, “Whether that be in the company of family and friends, or in solitude; whether it be in laughter or in tears, for both are a part of life.” Éomer stopped and turned his gaze to the floor for a moment and then nodded abruptly and Rebecca wondered what he was thinking. Lifting his head, Éomer looked to Aragorn and beckoned him forward and taking Arwen’s arm, he slowly made his way to the dais. Éomer brought the two of them up to stand nex


Chapter 34 - Homecoming - Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J, especially J on this particular chapter as it was a long struggle.

Words in [...] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

Author’s Note: As some of you know this was supposed to be the last chapter, followed by an epilogue. But as the long delay between chapters indicates, some real life issues and also struggles writing the chapter have kept me from getting this out as quickly as usual. Because of that, I have split the chapter into two parts and I HOPE to follow with the second half in about two weeks. Thanks for your patience.

Also, Tolkien is the one who decided that Arwen should stay in Edoras, and I’m still trying to stay as faithful to the book as I possibly can.

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Chapter 34 – Homecoming – Part 1

“Adar?”

Rebecca looked up at Aragorn in confusion when there was no response. He was standing stock still, his arms folded across his chest, as he looked off east into the foothills that led up into the White Mountains. Only his eyes were moving as they swept back and forth, relentlessly seeking something. His face was stern and remote, what Rebecca called his kingly, Elessar look and she wondered what had happened that had caused him to become like this. She knew that Aragorn was aware of her, that he would have known of her presence the moment she had come around the corner of the royal stables, some one hundred feet away. Wondering if she should ask again or leave and speak with him later, she settled on a third option. To sit and wait; something was obviously the matter and perhaps he needed someone to talk to for a change. That thought made Rebecca smile inwardly, since he obviously had Arwen, but she didn’t like the thought of him being alone right now either. Finding a large rock to sit on in the grassy area, Rebecca sat down, keeping a concerned eye on Aragorn as she did so.

Plucking a blade of the long grass, Rebecca wound it in and around her fingers for a time, glancing up at the back of Aragorn occasionally to see if there was any change. Bored with one blade, she picked several more pieces of grass and began braiding them together, still watching Aragorn and wondering how long he was going to stand there and also wondering how long he had been there before she had arrived. She had been looking for him for quite some time before she had found him because she wanted to ask him… Rebecca stopped braiding as realization dawned. This was about Arwen and Elrond. Rebecca had come to ask Aragorn if she was going to be allowed to continue on with the rest of the trip because she had learned that Arwen was staying in Edoras which meant there would be no other women on the way back from Isengard. But if Arwen were staying here, then that meant she had to say good-bye to Elrond. She swallowed the lump in her throat, knowing the pain that must be causing them… all three of them and she looked at Aragorn with sorrow-filled eyes. Not knowing what else to do, she did the one thing that seemed right to her. She walked over to Aragorn and, ignoring his stiff, unyielding posture and unresponsiveness, Rebecca hugged him as best she could, whispering, “I’m so sorry, Adar.” Turning to go back to her rock because she was still not leaving him alone, she was caught by Aragorn’s strong hand and pulled into a firm embrace.

“Thank you and forgive me for not answering you earlier, sell-nín, I should have,” he admitted softly, running his hand through his hair.

Rebecca nodded in acknowledgment before she asked, “Arwen and Elrond are out there?” Rebecca gestured to the hills and Aragorn nodded as his intense grey eyes studied Rebecca briefly before returning to their previous task.

“How did you know?”

“I heard that Arwen wasn’t coming with us and then when you…” her voice trailed off. “I just knew,” she shrugged. Aragorn did not respond and Rebecca went and sat down again, picking more blades of grass and absently played with them as she watched him and now she too looked out over the hills. Looking at Aragorn she tried to imagine the depth of love someone could have for another that would make them choose to give up eternal life with her family in what sounded like paradise. She had considered it before, but it was so very real right now. She wondered if she would do it for Thomas, but she quickly realized it was a foolish question. It would never come up in their lives and Rebecca knew that what she felt for Thomas was every bit as real as what Aragorn and Arwen felt for each other, even if it was expressed differently. She didn’t know how much time had passed when Aragorn spoke, not turning around, his voice very quiet.

“You need not stay.”

“Yes, I do. I won’t leave you alone when you’re hurting like this. You wouldn’t leave me alone,” she pointed out, her voice as quiet as his.

“No, I would not.”

“I won’t even make you talk.” That drew a snort of amusement and Rebecca continued, “Although, maybe you should.” Silence met her words and she looked down at her hands, sighing softly.

Finally Aragorn spoke again, “I am concerned for the pain Arwen is in, Rebecca. I cannot totally relieve it as I would like to, it is not an enemy I can defeat on a battlefield. And now she has decided that she will stay here in Edoras while we go on tomorrow and so I will not be able to give her any kind of comfort.”

“Why is she staying?”

His eyes did not cease their searching of the hills as he replied. “I believe it is because she has grown weary of such a long, slow good-bye and feels it will be easier to part here. Unlike us mortals, a few more days with each other has little meaning for either of them.”

“I would like to have had a few extra days with my mom,” Rebecca remarked. “Strange how none of us will have any parents now,” she added almost absently.

Aragorn turned and gave her a brief, hard stare, “I thought you had Arwen and I,” he said before turning around again.

“Well, yes, of course,” she said fumbling over the words. “I didn’t mean it that way, Adar. You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Forgive me, sell-nín,” Aragorn’s voice was soft, “I do know what you meant and I am sorry,” he turned and gave her an apologetic look. “I should not take my frustration out on you.”

“Well, I would prefer that you didn’t,” Rebecca returned with a small smile before rising and moving to stand alongside him. She glanced up at him as he patted her shoulder gently, but he was not looking at her. “You’ve had to help me and Thomas through a lot of hard things in the last few weeks and I know it hasn’t been easy for you and now you have this. I don’t think I ever thanked you, but I have appreciated it, Adar.”

Aragorn looked down at her for a long moment, “You are welcome, Rebecca, however everything we have gone though is just part of being a family… for me, being a father.”

“Hmmm, I seriously doubt that very many families have to deal with deciding whether or not to stay in Middle-earth or go back to another time altogether,” she paused, “or with what you and Arwen are facing right now.”

“No, they do not,” Aragorn admitted. “But they do have different things that come up in their lives that are just as important and difficult for them.”

Rebecca gave a thoughtful nod, “I suppose so. Aragorn, is there… is there anything I can do? For you or for Arwen?” she looked up at him questioningly.

Aragorn gave her a genuine smile, “You are doing something for me right now, sell-nín, and for Arwen,” he paused, “perhaps you might let her know of your concern for her. I know she would appreciate…” his voice trailed off as he straightened, his eyes focusing on something and Rebecca followed his gaze to see what appeared to be two people moving from the lower foothills and heading towards Edoras. Turning to hurry down to the gate, Aragorn stopped and turned back as he reached the corner of the stable, “Rebecca, why were you looking for me? What did you need?”

“I wanted to know if I was going to go with you on the rest of the trip since Arwen wasn’t going,” she said quietly.

“Yes, I was planning on you coming with us, there will only be a few days on the return from Isengard when there will be no other ladies and as it will just be you, Thomas, Halbarad, and I, along with our guards, I believe that I will be an adequate chaperone. Unless that makes you uncomfortable?” Aragorn gave her a questioning look and Rebecca shook her head with a small laugh and he gave her a faint smile. “Good, then I will speak with you later,” he said as he disappeared around the corner of the stable.

0-0-0

Talking quietly, Thomas and Rebecca walked through the streets of Edoras in the heat of the late afternoon as Rebecca explained what had happened earlier in the day with Aragorn. Thomas listened, occasionally shaking his head as she spoke and he sighed when she finished. “I can’t even imagine that, Rebecca,” he finally said. “I don’t know how Lord Elrond can… well, can even be around Aragorn.”

“He loves him, too,” Rebecca pointed out. “Aragorn is his son and like he told us, he can’t imagine loving his own children by blood anymore than us, so I suppose it’s the same thing.”

Thomas shrugged, “I know, but… It’s still so strange,” he added after a moment, “having the same father must make it harder for them.”

Rebecca grinned, “Why is that strange? We do, too.”

Staring at her for a moment, Thomas finally laughed, “I guess we do. I hadn’t really thought of it that way, since we didn’t grow up here together.” His laughter faded and a more thoughtful expression appeared on his face. They walked on quietly and Rebecca glanced up at him from time to time, but remained silent. Passing through the gates of the city they walked around the walls of it and came to the main corrals and stables used by most of the people of Edoras. A group of young boys were in the corral riding horses that appeared to be newly broken and Rebecca and Thomas walked up to the corral, leaning on the railing to watch them. None of the boys showed the least amount of fear as they hopped on and off the horses under the watchful eye of some of the older men gathered on the far side of the corral.

Thomas watched for awhile and then he cast a sidelong look at Rebecca and he half turned to face her. “Do you see the boy out there with the dark blue shirt that is torn near the right shoulder?” Rebecca looked at the boys and finally spotted him and she nodded. “He looks like my brother, John,” he said quietly, turning back and looking at the boys again and Rebecca did the same, examining the boy closely. “He seems about the same age, ten or so, and I swear, Rebecca, the hair color and his eyes and everything… he looks just like him. I’ve seen him around a couple of times now and every time I see him, I want to go and speak with him, but then I hear him speaking Rohirric and I know he’s not John. I mean I knew he wasn’t anyway, but…” his voice trailed off and he took a deep breath. Rebecca didn’t say anything, didn’t move, she didn’t want to do anything to distract Thomas from what he was saying. “He was so young, Rebecca,” he looked at her and his eyes were full of tears, “and I miss him a lot. Until I went to the horse ranch, I took care of him all the time when my mom was working. Sometimes he would come to the ranch and ride like this,” Thomas gestured to the horses and boys. “I wish he were here with us, Rebecca,” he whispered, wiping away the tears that started to fall. “Mom too, of course, but he was so young.”

Without even thinking about where they were, Rebecca stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him and he clung to her tightly as he quietly cried. “I’m sorry, Thomas,” she murmured, “I wish he were here too, I would liked to have met him.” The sound of a throat being cleared caused them to look up and they broke apart and gave Gílorn a guilty look, but the guard just gestured in the direction behind them. Turning, they saw Aragorn and Arwen approaching and Thomas looked at Rebecca with concern.

As he approached his two children, Aragorn looked them over carefully, seeing evidence of Thomas’s tears and also their slightly guilty expressions that he knew was caused because they had been embracing in public, however innocently, and were expecting him to reprimand them. Arwen tightened the grip she had on his arm and he knew that she had seen the same thing and he patted her hand gently in acknowledgement. However, he just smiled at them and stepped up to the corral next to Thomas, looking at the horses. “They are beautiful horses, are they not?” he asked as both Rebecca and Thomas turned back to lean on the corral.

“Yes, they are,” Rebecca answered after a moment, watching Thomas from the corner of her eye, but his eyes seemed to be focused on the ground in front of them and not on the horses and boys.

“Some of these boys appear to be about the same age as your brother would have been,” Aragorn observed quietly.

Thomas gave a resigned sigh and turned to look at Aragorn, “Yes, and one of them looks almost exactly like John and that is why I was crying and why Rebecca and I were embracing in public,” he said in a voice that sounded both annoyed and embarrassed.

“I am sorry, it must make it very difficult for you. Though I think it would be hard just being around boys of that age,” Aragorn’s voice was soft and gentle and he clasped Thomas’s shoulder briefly.

“Probably, I just wasn’t around too many boys in Minas Tirith. Not that we were there that long after I found out he had… died. But there are children running around here all the time.”

“The Citadel tends to be isolated from the rest of the city, Thomas. You and Rebecca,” he paused and glanced at Arwen, “and Arwen and I need to leave the Citadel and go down to the lower levels and be amongst the people more often than we do.” Aragorn narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment, thinking of the orphanages in Minas Tirith that were full of young boys and how perhaps Thomas could be a help to them as he understood what it was like not to have a father at such a young age and that maybe it would also help bring healing to Thomas’s heart. But a quick glance at Thomas showed Aragorn that this was not the time to discuss it, that his grief was still too new. There would be a right time for it to come up again and for him to discuss it with Thomas, and perhaps for Rebecca as well, as the orphanages were also full of young girls. “Did John ever come and ride with you?” he asked.

“A few times, but not often, it was a long way out from where we lived.”

“Was he as fearless as these boys?” Aragorn asked, gesturing to the young Rohirrim on the horses.

Thomas chuckled and shook his head, “No, especially not at first. He was shaking the first time I put him on a horse. Of course I picked an old mare that could barely walk anymore and he relaxed pretty quickly. He was only seven, I think, which of course is old to start riding here, but not where I’m from unless you live on a ranch. I think he would have made a good ranch hand or anything else he wanted to do,” he said with a wistful expression.

“What did he want to do?” Arwen asked quietly, her voice low and soothing.

“I don’t know,” Thomas admitted, “but I wanted to give him a chance to do something that he loved, whatever that might be,” he shrugged, glancing at Rebecca who gave him an understanding smile and took his hand. “I was hoping that by the time he got old enough to go to college, maybe I would have the money to help him do that if he wanted to.” He looked away from the others, staring into the distance and sighing softly.

Aragorn laid his hand on Thomas’s shoulder and waited until Thomas looked at him before he spoke. “Again, I am sorry for the fresh grief seeing this boy has caused you, ion-nín. My hope is that eventually the pain of seeing him will be healing for you, though I know that does not seem possible now.” He gave Thomas a small smile, “I know that I have seldom heard you speak of John as much as you just did and so perhaps speaking of him will be helpful for you.” Thomas grimaced slightly and then slowly nodded as Aragorn gripped his shoulder hard and then changed the subject, “We need to return to Meduseld, I am sure that it is nearly time for supper.”

They started back towards the gate and the city. “You have a very faithful guard, Rebecca,” Aragorn said with a small smile as he glanced at them from the corner of his eye, ignoring Arwen’s tightening grip on his arm. Thomas and Rebecca reddened slightly, but said nothing. “I will have to thank Faramir for selecting someone who is so protective of you,” he continued in a lightly teasing tone. Aragorn finally looked directly at the two of them, “I can tell the difference between a romantic embrace and one given for comfort,” he said, “and whatever you may have thought, I was not angry with you, only saddened that you were in pain.” No other words were spoken between the four of them as they returned to the Golden Hall.


0-0-0

Éomer handed the stirrup-cup up to Aragorn where he sat on Roheryn ready to lead the company out of Edoras on the final leg of their journey north. “May your journey be safe, my brother,” he said and Aragorn took a drink of the ale and handed it back so that it could be taken on to the next person. Éomer put his hand on Aragorn’s knee, “Éowyn and I will take care of her, Aragorn,” he said quietly, glancing up at Arwen who stood on the wide entryway of Meduseld.

“Thank you, though I do not know how much she will allow you to do so,” Aragorn said with a small smile that did not reach his concerned eyes.

Éomer shrugged, “We will do what we can. Faramir, Imrahil, and Lady Laereth will also be here for her. Be at peace, Aragorn, you will not be gone long.” Not waiting for a response, Éomer patted his knee and moved off, taking the cup around to the rest of the large company that was setting out. When the last person had taken a drink, Aragorn lifted his hand in farewell to Arwen and then, turning his horse, he led the way down and out of Edoras as they headed west to Helm’s Deep.

They had been riding for an hour when Elladan moved his horse up alongside Aragorn and they rode together quietly for a time. Finally, Aragorn gave his brother a sidelong look, [“Where is Elrohir? You do not usually come and speak with me alone when you feel I need counsel.”]

Elladan’s eyes glimmered briefly with amusement, [“He is speaking with adar and our grandparents. He may join us if I feel that you are not listening,”] again his eyes showed a spark of humor and Aragorn shook his head and smiled.

[“I will listen, muindor-nín.”]

Searching Aragorn’s face intently for a moment, Elladan nodded as if satisfied with what he read there and when he spoke, his voice was soft, yet firm. [“Be at peace about Arwen, Estel. I know of your concern for her, as do most here. But these few days alone will, perhaps, give her a chance to come to terms with her grief in a way she could not if all of us were there.”]

[“I do not like her being there without someone to comfort her.”]

[“There are people there who may comfort her in other ways.”] Elladan’s voice softened even further, [“Yet if you were concerned about Arwen not having the comfort she needs, then why did you come? You could have stayed or returned directly to Minas Tirith. We have no need of your protection,”] he gestured to the large number of elves behind them. [“And are well able to protect the hobbits as we will be doing after you turn back to Edoras, so I ask again, why did you come?”] His grey eyes looked piercingly at Aragorn.

Aragorn blinked in surprise and just stared at Elladan for a long time with his brow furrowed in thought. [“I needed to go to Isengard,”] he said slowly and Elladan just gave him a look of disbelief, an eyebrow raised in question. Aragorn thought back to his conversation of the day before with Rebecca and her comment that she wished she had had a few more days to spend with her mother. He realized that that is why he had come on this part of the journey; he did need to go to Isengard, though it was not a pressing need. He had come because he wanted to spend a few more days with Gandalf, Galadriel, and, most importantly, with his Adar, all of whom would be leaving soon for Valinor. He also knew it would be years before he would see the hobbits again and he was beginning to accept the fact that Frodo would not be able to stay in Middle-earth to recover from the wounding of his spirit and body, and would most likely go to Valinor to seek healing. His brothers and Legolas, Gimli, Celeborn, Glorfindel, and Erestor would all return at times to Minas Tirith and so he knew that he would see them again, at least occasionally. He gave Elladan a small smile, [“I came because I wanted to spend a few more days with those I love and will miss when they are gone.”]

[“I thought perhaps that was the reason, muindor-nín,”] Elladan’s eyes were gentle as he gazed at Aragorn. [“Your need is different than Arwen’s and I did not want your concern for her to cause you to forget that.”]

[“Thank you, Elladan,”] Aragorn inclined his head slightly.

[“You are most welcome, Estel, and I am glad that it was not necessary to ask Elrohir to join us,”] Elladan smiled faintly and Aragorn laughed softly as they rode on, turning their conversation to other things.

0-0-0

Thomas watched Aragorn walk slowly away from the fire with Elrond and he nudged Rebecca slightly with his knee and she just nodded without looking at him as she continued speaking with Frodo and Sam who were sitting on her other side. There was a large group gathered around the fire, but he finally began listening to the conversation between Halbarad, Alvist, and Elrohir who were sitting closest to him. Aragorn had informed Alvist all about Thomas and Rebecca some weeks ago as the Steward of Arnor needed to know the truth about who they really were. Alvist had been shocked at the whole idea, and yet, at the same time, not really surprised as there had been no doubt that the two of them were not from the northern parts of Middle-earth as had been commonly known in Minas Tirith. He had urged Aragorn to tell the rest of the rangers as there had been talk amongst them about where the two of them had really come from, but Aragorn had not made a decision on that yet. While he trusted his men, he was concerned about having so many people knowing who they were as it might cause problems in the future that he could not foresee. Thomas had worked with Alvist during the afternoons that he spent working for Aragorn and he liked him, but he was a quiet man and Thomas felt like he barely knew him. Now Alvist was talking with Elrohir and Halbarad about the rebuilding of the northern capitol at Annúminas and the amount of work and the years that would take and where he planned to locate a temporary building in that area to serve the needs of the people. Thomas shook his head slightly at all of the things that needed to be done to restore that part of Aragorn’s kingdom.

All conversation ceased immediately as the sound of an elvish voice filled the night with music. Thomas relaxed even further under the soothing sounds of Glorfindel’s rich, pure voice as he sang in the elven language that he now knew was called Quenya. Of course, Thomas had no idea what the song was about, but it didn’t matter as he laid his chin on his pulled up knees and closed his eyes to just listen without being distracted by people or the fire. There were appreciative murmurs when Glorfindel finished and then other elves, Thomas wasn’t exactly sure who and he didn’t bother looking up, began singing. This time it was in Sindarin and so he could understand some of the words, though it was too hard to piece the meaning of the song together from what he did understand. But he just enjoyed the rich sounds of the music. As that song ended someone, he thought it was Elladan, asked Erestor for a story and Thomas looked up as the other elves joined Elladan in his request. He smiled as he watched Erestor frown at the others before he, somewhat grudgingly, gave into their demands. Thomas could well imagine that Erestor was a wonderful storyteller with his knowledge of the history of the ages of Middle-earth and he knew him well enough by now to see past his gruff exterior and into his kind and caring heart. Glancing at Rebecca with a smile, Thomas took ahold of her hand and she leaned into him as Erestor began his story. While Thomas was sure it was a story that most had heard before, it was, of course, new to him and Rebecca. It was a tragic story from the first age of a man named Túrin, who slew the father of all dragons, Glaurung. But Morgoth cursed him and the rest of his life was troubled by a series of horrible things. Thomas was fascinated as he listened to the story and especially the way that Erestor told it. Murmurs of appreciation were given at the completion of the story and then Glorfindel looked across the fire at Rebecca and Thomas with twinkling eyes.

“I would like to hear a story from one of you, I am sure that you know many stories that none here have heard,” a smile crossed Glorfindel’s lips that matched the twinkle in his eyes.

Rebecca and Thomas exchanged appalled looks as others around the fire echoed Glorfindel’s call for a story. Thomas nudged Rebecca and whispered, “You’re the writer, you tell them a story,” and the elves laughed, having heard him in spite of his whispering.

Rebecca glared at him and then looked at Glorfindel, “I don’t think that our stories would… really… well… I don’t think you would understand them.”

Glorfindel and most of the others looked amused, “I believe I am quite capable of understanding any story that you would tell, Lady Rebecca,” Glorfindel replied with a smile.

Seeing no way to escape, Rebecca sighed and shrugged, “Well, we’ll need a few minutes to decide on one, Lord Glorfindel, because no matter what you say, things are quite different there and it’ll take me some time to come up with one.” Glorfindel inclined his head gracefully, his eyes still sparklingly with amusement and Rebecca stood and pulled Thomas up with her and headed off towards the tent area, shaking her head the whole way. “What are we going to do?” she groaned when they were out of hearing of the others.

“I don’t know. Don’t you know any stories you can tell them?”

“I know lots of stories, Thomas,” she said, looking at him with annoyance. “That’s not the problem. The problem is just what I told Lord Glorfindel, all of our stories would take too much explanation to really make it a good story. They don’t know what our time is like so I can’t tell them a story that has a car or an airplane in it or anything like that.”

“How about a story from a long time ago? Well, a long time ago from the 1950s,” Thomas shook his head slightly at how that sounded.

“Like a fairy tale?” she shot him another look and he shrugged. “Like Cinderella? Or better yet, Snow White and the Seven… “ she trailed off and gave a meaningful glance back to the fire where Gimli was sitting and they both laughed quietly. “I don’t think a fairy tale will work either, those are for children anyway.” She sighed. “How about from a movie?” Rebecca frowned, trying to remember movies she had seen.

“I’ve mostly seen war movies and westerns the last couple of years and I don’t want to explain guns to them.” Thomas shuddered and Rebecca nodded her agreement.

Rebecca thought about the various books she had read, but she couldn’t think of any that could be easily made into something she could tell aloud around a fire. They were all either stories that she didn’t think would interest anyone here, or else it would require too much explanation. But maybe… she looked at Thomas. “What about something from Shakespeare, like Romeo and Juliet?”

Thomas thought for a moment, he had read the play when he was a freshman and while he hadn’t particularly enjoyed it, at least he knew the story. “Well, they kill themselves in the end, Rebecca, and I’m not sure that would be a good story to tell them, not after the story Erestor just told.” Rebecca nodded and sighed, but thinking about Shakespeare made her think about other classic authors and she suddenly smiled.

“I know!” she exclaimed. “A Christmas Carol, by Dickens, it’s the perfect story. We’ll have to explain some things, but they have holidays here of some type and can understand people giving gifts and some people being mean and being a scrooge and they can certainly understand going back in time,” she grinned. “And the ghosts of past, present, and future should be fine – once you’ve seen the dead army, you can understand ghosts. And then there’s Tiny Tim and it’s very touching at the end when Scrooge decides to change. What do you think?”

“It’s a good story,” Thomas said slowly, “I didn’t read it, but I saw the movie a few years ago. If you want to tell that one, then you should do it.” They walked back to the fire and sat down and the conversation came to an abrupt standstill as everyone looked to them.

“Have you decided on a story that I may be able to understand, Lady Rebecca?” Glorfindel asked.

Thankful that Aragorn had placed all of the guards behind the tents and well beyond hearing, Rebecca replied in an exasperated voice, “Lord Glorfindel, you know that I do not doubt your ability to understand anything, it’s just that things are so different there that I cannot tell you a story that has a car in it or an airplane or a rocket or a movie because I would have to explain so much that the whole story is ruined.” Rebecca deliberately used words that none of them would know and she saw expressions of either confusion or interest on the faces of many of the elves, while the members of the Fellowship just smiled, having at least a vague idea of some of the things she had mentioned. She continued in a more normal tone, “Even in the story I am going to tell you there will have to be some explanations, but I hope there won’t be too many.”

“I did understand that, Lady Rebecca,” Glorfindel said gently, giving her a soft smile and Rebecca blushed slightly before smiling in return. Taking a deep breath she glanced around the circle, pausing when she reached Aragorn, who had returned while she and Thomas had stepped away, and he gave her an encouraging smile, and then she began telling a group of elves, hobbits, rangers, and one dwarf, a story called, A Christmas Carol.

0-0-0

Twisting in his saddle to look for Rebecca and Thomas, Aragorn saw Rebecca speaking with Haldir and he smiled inwardly. He still found their friendship somewhat amusing and he knew that as much as Rebecca would miss the members of the Fellowship, she would miss Haldir almost as much. Knowing that he would remain in Middle-earth with Celeborn had helped Rebecca after she and Thomas had spoken with Gandalf and had learned that he was leaving with Elrond and Galadriel. She had, of course, been extremely upset, but had taken it better than Aragorn had thought she would. Either the last month had dulled her emotions to a point that she could not take anymore, or she had somehow sensed he would be leaving at some point. Although, she had then demanded to know if anyone else was planning on leaving for Valinor. Aragorn had explained his feeling that Frodo might have to leave to become fully healed and neither she nor Thomas had been surprised. What had surprised them was the fact that Celeborn was not leaving with his wife and Aragorn had been hard pressed to explain how a Silvan elf was so tied to Middle-earth and the forests and that he was not ready to leave these shores yet. Galadriel had been born in Valinor and was ready to go home to see the family she had there, whereas Celeborn had been born in Middle-earth and had never seen Valinor and so it did not have the pull for him that it had for Galadriel. Seeing Haldir and Rebecca come to a pause in their conversation, he called her name and beckoned her forward and then did the same to Thomas who was riding between Halbarad and Legolas and Gimli.

Rebecca and Thomas urged their horses forward until they drew alongside of Aragorn and they looked at him questioningly. He glanced at each of them and smiled faintly at their somewhat anxious expressions. “Be at peace, I only wanted to ride with you for a time, we have had little time together on this trip.”

“Ah, then you are not going to ask us how we fare?” Rebecca asked with a smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. Thomas laughed quietly from his place on the other side of Aragorn.

Aragorn shook his head and smiled in return, “It was not my intent to do so, however you are free to tell me. Truly, I only wished to ride with you for awhile. Although,” he said slowly, “I suppose as we ride and talk, I will be able to tell how you are faring without having to ask you,” he grinned and Thomas and Rebecca laughed. It was quiet for a moment and then Aragorn glanced at Rebecca, “You told that story very well last night, will you write it down so we can put it in the library?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s not my story, I didn’t make that up. A man named Charles Dickens wrote that.”

“I don’t know why it would matter,” Thomas commented, “none of this survives into our time anyway,” he shrugged.

Rebecca frowned, “I don’t care, it’s not my story, Thomas, and I’m not writing it down as if it were.”

Thomas shrugged again, “I suppose not, but you could write down some of the other stories we talked about, couldn’t you? Like fairy tales and things like that? Those stories aren’t really written by someone are they? Aren’t they just sort of told from one generation to the next?”

“What are fairy tales?” Aragorn asked curiously.

“Well, sort of magical stories and most of the time they are about good versus evil and there are wizards, princesses, queens, and kings,” Rebecca gave Aragorn an amused look, “and there might be dragons or other monsters. They almost always have a happy ending and usually are told to children.” Rebecca gave Thomas a thoughtful look, “I wonder if some of those stories might be left over from this time, since there are, or were, dragons and wizards and things here. Maybe they were based on real things and we just don’t know it.”

Thomas narrowed his eyes and nodded, “It’s possible, but it seems strange that those sorts of stories would still be around and yet none of the real history would be known.”

“If there are wizards and dragons, are there elves in these stories?” Aragorn asked.

“Actually some stories do have elves, but not like our elves,” Rebecca said with a laugh that Thomas quickly echoed. “They are usually small, little magical, fairy type creatures. There are dwarves too, but again, not like the ones that are here.”

Aragorn grinned, “I will have to explain to my brothers and to Legolas that in the future they will be seen as small, fairy type creatures. I am sure they will appreciate that.” His eyes lit up with amusement. “I would like to hear some of these tales as well, Rebecca,” and he smiled at her surprised look. “I know you say they are for children in your time, but as I have never heard them, they would, perhaps, be interesting to me… and to the others as well. Many of our stories are told from things that actually happened… our history, and so we have heard them many times. Although each storyteller brings their own interpretation to the story, it is, of course, the same basic story. It is rare to hear something new, though I think now that a measure of peace has come, perhaps there will be more time for people to create and write stories.”

“I just don’t want to have to explain too much and ruin a story, Adar, and I don’t want to… offend anyone by telling them stories meant for children.”

“Stories that have wizards and dragons do not sound like stories that would offend anyone here. It is also in the way that you told the story; once you relaxed all could tell that you enjoyed it, that it was something that you loved. It is a gift that you have and so I believe that you will be asked to share more stories, so you best be prepared for it, sell-nín,” Aragorn grinned at her look of dismay and then glanced at Thomas. “Though, perhaps Thomas should share a story with us the next time.”

Thomas shook his head, “I don’t know stories like Rebecca does,” he protested. “I’m sleeping with the horses tonight,” he muttered after a moment.

Aragorn chuckled briefly, “You do not have to tell one, but I am sure that you will be asked again. If you do not know any stories, you could always tell something from your life… I am sure that there must be things that happened as you worked on the horse ranch that would make a good story.” Thomas shrugged, though his eyes had a faraway look in them. “Or perhaps not,” he said kindly, “your gift seems to be in your painting, Thomas. Someday you will share those with us and we will see your stories in another way.” Thomas’s eyes lit up as he smiled at Aragorn.

“I do like my painting; it’s too bad I can’t bring it with me on a trip like this.”

“You can’t bring all the paints and things, but couldn’t you draw or something?” Rebecca asked.

“I could, I just didn’t think about it this time… I was sort of rushed there at the end to get ready to leave.”

“You should have looked for something at the market in Edoras,” Aragorn commented.

“I didn’t really think about it then either and it was sort of hard to shop there, most of them didn’t speak the common tongue, Aragorn.”

“No, I suppose not. Most of the people have little interaction with those outside of Rohan. On our return, perhaps you can buy something that will suit your needs. You should begin carrying something with you so that you can always draw whatever you see that interests you.”

“I’ll have to do that,” Thomas paused and then gazed at Aragorn with a thoughtful expression. “Aragorn, what do you enjoy doing? Rebecca likes to read and to write and I like to paint, but what do you like to do?”

Aragorn gave Thomas a long look and then said quietly, “It changes. Right now what I most enjoy is spending time with Arwen and with my family,” he smiled at both of them. “Before that… before the quest as I wandered the wilds alone, what I enjoyed most was meeting up with Halbarad or one of my other rangers and having some company for a short time before we went our separate ways. Sometimes it was finding a place that I knew was safe where I could rest for a day or two and simply enjoy the beauty of the wilderness. Perhaps near a stream or a small lake. I still enjoy that now. Like Rebecca, I enjoy reading, even poetry,” he grinned at Thomas who smiled, “and I read many books in my youth and, when it was possible, I carried a small one with me even as I traveled. It was hard though, because food was more important and I could only carry so much with me. Because I spent so many years wandering and protecting our lands, I never have done anything like your painting or Rebecca’s writing. Yet I am content and enjoy the other things that surround me.”

“That’s why you wanted me to try painting, because you never got to do anything like that.”

“I wanted you to at least try it, Thomas, because I can sense that you have artistic gifts and I think it should be developed. I think you should try other things as well, pottery for example, just to see if you enjoy it since you were interested in it.” Aragorn shrugged, “As for me, I did not appear to have gifts like those and so, of course I did not pursue them. My life path was much different than yours and I needed to be trained primarily as a warrior, a healer, and also to become a king and so I studied languages, healing and herb-lore, the histories of Middle-earth, archery, tracking, and swordplay. I was rather busy,” he said with a wry smile. Rebecca and Thomas laughed at his expression.

“So, will you try something new now that you have time?” Rebecca asked and Aragorn smiled.

“Do I appear to have much time?” he asked, his eyes sparkling. “No, at least not now. Though, I suppose you could say that being the King of Gondor and Arnor counts as doing something new,” he grinned. “As I said, I truly enjoy spending time with my family and I am not willing to give that up to do something else with the limited time that I have. I spent too many years apart from Arwen to not spend time with her now.”

“I can understand that,” Rebecca said. “Forty years is a long time. Did you ever see her?”

Aragorn laughed shortly, “Yes, Rebecca, I did. But not enough and it was often years between visits and even when I did see her, it might be only for a few days.”

“Oh. I don’t know how you did that, Adar. It must have been so hard on you and Arwen.”

“It was, but we had hope that someday Sauron would be destroyed and we could be together. Mostly, it was Arwen’s love and faith in me that gave me the courage to continue.”

“Now, that’s a story you should write down, Rebecca,” Thomas said, looking from her and back to Aragorn with a grin.

“Maybe I will,” she replied, laughing quietly. Aragorn smiled at the two of them as they rode on towards Helm’s Deep.

0-0-0

The first thing Thomas noticed as they rode up the causeway to enter Helm’s Deep was that the breached area along the Deeping Wall was still being repaired, but that the main gate had been restored. His eyes darkened slightly as he looked around, noticing the large burial mound for the Rohirrim and the large blackened area where the orcs had been burned. The trees from Fangorn were gone and he wondered how long they had stayed after the battle. They rode into the courtyard and were met by Marshal Erkenbrand as they dismounted and their horses were led away by the stable hands. Glancing around the courtyard, Thomas could see that it too had mostly been restored to what it had looked like the night he had first seen it. It was hard to realize it was only a little over five months ago that he had been involved in a huge battle here, so much had happened since that time. Some very difficult things, but also some wonderful experiences that were worth all that he had gone through Thomas realized, glancing at his family and friends. With a start, he became aware that the company was disappearing into the Keep for a supper that Erkenbrand had arranged and he smiled at Rebecca as she came over to him and looked up at him with a hint of worry in her eyes. “I’m… just remembering and thinking, Rebecca, but maybe we can take a walk later or in the morning. How are you doing with being here?” he asked in concern as he studied her.

“I’m doing all right; it just seems strange more than anything else, especially to have everyone here with us,” Rebecca gestured to the hobbits and the large number of elves that had preceded them into the Keep. “It looks mostly the same and yet feels so different. There aren’t as many people around and it’s a lot quieter,” she said, remembering both the battle itself and the sounds of the wounded afterwards.

Thomas nodded and led her into the Keep where tables had been set up in the large central hall and where servants were now laying out food. They looked around curiously at the tapestry-covered stone room, not having paid any attention to it the first time they were here. It was much different than Meduseld, it was a large round room made of grey stone and the ceiling stretched high overhead with no windows that they could see. A large fire pit was in the middle of the room and the tables were arranged around it as the room was chilly even on this late summer day. Aragorn looked at them questioningly as they were the last to arrive and they slipped onto a bench at the end of a table, but they gave him small smiles and he turned back to Erkenbrand.

“Things look different here, do they not?” Elrohir asked quietly from his place across the table from them.

“It seems different,” Rebecca agreed, glancing around the hall once again. “Though, honestly Lord Elrohir, I really didn’t pay much attention to what things looked like in here.”

“We only set our bags in a room before the battle,” Thomas said slowly as he thought back, “and then afterwards we were too exhausted to notice anything. Even when we came back from Isengard… at least I was.” He glanced at Rebecca who nodded her agreement before turning to the food that had been placed in front of her.

“You did have a rather severe injury to your head, Thomas,” Elrohir pointed out, “and I am sure that kept you from noticing things as well.”

“Hmmm, that and the fact that I was struggling with the aftereffects of being in my first major battle,” he gave Elrohir a grim smile. “It was not a pleasant time.” Rebecca took his hand and squeezed it gently and Thomas looked at her, “Not for either of us,” he added.

“I am sure not,” Elrohir said, his voice soft and gentle. “Do you have nightmares and dreams of this time?” he asked Thomas, but his gaze included Rebecca.

“I did for awhile,” he admitted, “but they’ve mostly stopped and were replaced by dreams from the other battles. I thought they might start up again with us coming here, but they haven’t.” He took a bite of bread and chewed it thoughtfully as he considered the absence of those particular nightmares, though of course they had been replaced by dreams of his family recently.

Elrohir looked at Rebecca and she shook her head, “My dreams come and go, Lord Elrohir, because I’ve talked to Merry and different people about them and that’s helped,” she shrugged and Thomas nodded. “So I did have nightmares about this battle at first, but,” she said in a low voice, “now if I have one they seem to be more about things I saw in Pelargir and then… then what-what happened to me on the Pelennor,” she shuddered. She gave Elrohir a sad smile, “Although lately I’ve been dreaming about my mom… not nightmares really… just dreams. Do elves dream?” she asked, clearly trying to change the focus of their discussion.

“Yes, but they are not like mortal dreams, Lady Rebecca. We are able to control them and bend them to our will. It is difficult to explain,” he replied with a small smile. “Are the dreams of your mother of the good times that you had together?” Elrohir asked gently.

“You are not going to let this go, are you?” Rebecca asked, frowning.

“He usually doesn’t,” Thomas said, giving Elrohir a look that Rebecca couldn’t interpret.

Elladan, who was sitting next to his brother and had remained quiet during their discussion so far, finally spoke up. “Elrohir has always been gifted in the healing of hearts whereas I am more gifted in the healing of bodies,” he said quietly before returning to his supper.

Rebecca and Thomas looked at him for a moment and then continued eating their stew without responding. Finally, knowing that Elrohir was waiting with typical elven patience for some kind of response from her, Rebecca looked up and saw that he was gazing at her with compassion and she sighed softly. “Yes, Lord Elrohir, most of my dreams have been of the good times my mom and I had together. Shopping or talking, just being together,” she sighed again and looked away for a moment before returning to her food.

“Most of your dreams?”

“Except for the ones of the bus crash, Elrohir,” she hissed in an angry whisper. “Do you want to hear about those too?” Rebecca started to jump to her feet, but Thomas had his arm around her and she couldn’t move. Suddenly conscious of where she was, she forced herself to relax while still giving Elrohir an angry glare.

Elrohir appeared unmoved by her anger, “I would like to hear of those dreams, Lady Rebecca, though I believe we should wait until after supper,” he glanced around.

“Probably,” Rebecca muttered, suddenly extremely tired.

“Good, then after supper you, Thomas and I will find a place where you can both share your dreams with me.” Elrohir stopped Thomas’s protests with a look. “Do you think that no one has noticed your nightmares, Thomas? You are sharing a tent with Estel now and before that with Legolas and Gimli, do you think that none of them would notice? After what happened in Ithilien?”

Thomas sighed and shook his head, “No, but I thought they would stop soon. But why didn’t… why hasn’t Aragorn said anything to me?”

Elrohir gave him a small smile, “I believe it was because of our last discussion on dreams, Thomas, and he thought perhaps you would rather speak with me again. And if I spoke with you, then I should speak with Lady Rebecca as well,” he replied, glancing at her. “Would you prefer to speak with him?” he asked quietly. They hesitated, glancing at each other and Elrohir spoke again. “It would not offend me, young ones, and Estel is well able to help you.”

“Then-then, thank you, Lord Elrohir, but I think we’ll talk to our adar,” Rebecca said and he gave her and Thomas a kind and gentle smile.

“Do it soon, after supper if it is possible,” Elladan advised, speaking up once again.

The conversation then turned to other things, mostly of plans for the future; what Thomas and Rebecca planned to do on their return to Minas Tirith, when the two elves planned to be back in the city - Rebecca hoping they would come to their wedding, but the elves would make no promises in that regard and so the supper continued, more light hearted than it had begun.

0-0-0

Aragorn embraced Rebecca and Thomas one last time before wishing them good-night and they entered their respective rooms for what he judged would be a long and, hopefully, restful sleep after the emotional discussion they had just had. He had been somewhat surprised, yet strangely pleased, when they had approached him after supper and asked to speak with him about the dreams they had been having. It was not that he had not wanted to discuss their dreams with them; Aragorn had just felt that perhaps they might want to have another person’s perspective on some of the things they were dealing with and knowing that Thomas had spoken with Elrohir before, he had asked his brother to speak with them. But evidently they found it either easier or more comforting to speak with him - probably both - Aragorn realized as he still stood outside his own door absently pondering some of the things Rebecca and Thomas had told him of their dreams. His heart ached for them, yet he knew that they were doing much better than they had been and that sharing their dreams with him would further ease their grief.

[“Are you going to bed, ion-nín or staying up for a time?”]

Aragorn turned to see Elrond watching him with amused eyes and he realized he had been standing in the hallway for some time and he gave him a sheepish smile. [“I was planning on going to bed, Adar, however I started thinking of other things and lost track of time.”]

[“So I gathered,”] Elrond said dryly, still looking amused. [“Will you take a walk with me? Or, are you too tired?”]

[“I will walk with you, Adar,”] Aragorn said, inclining his head and moving alongside Elrond and heading down the hallway and out of the Keep. He took a deep breath of the cool night air and, glancing up at the stars, realized it was near midnight. They said nothing for a time and Aragorn followed Elrond’s lead as he walked beside the elf down the steps to the dimly lit Deeping Wall and along the top of it for a short way before speaking.

[“Are your children doing well?”]

[“Yes, Adar, they are grieving, but are speaking of it and starting to heal,”] Aragorn hesitated and then said no more, his eyes suddenly looking into the distance as they touched on a subject that was too close to his own heart right now.

[“Good. And are you speaking of your grief, ion-nín?”] Elrond’s voice was gentle and Aragorn turned his gaze back to him and gave him a half smile.

[“Yes… are you?”] he gave Elrond a very pointed look and the elf nodded.

[“I am. Perhaps we should speak together instead of only speaking with others,”] Elrond suggested, taking a seat on the wall. Aragorn nodded and slowly lowered himself to a spot near Elrond, turning and leaning back against one of the higher parts of the wall. [“Do you remember the nightmares you used to have, Estel?”] Aragorn shook his head, keeping his eyes fixed on Elrond who appeared lost in thought. [“You were quite young,”] he continued, [“and your naneth and I were never sure what caused them and eventually they stopped, much to our relief.”] Elrond looked at Aragorn with eyes full of love and affection. [“Of course then you began your training to become a warrior and would injure yourself or occasionally you became lost in the woods.”] Aragorn laughed softly as those memories came rushing back. [“Those things caused her and I different kinds of concerns, ion-nín, but always we were there and could comfort you.”]

[“I remember,”] Aragorn said quietly, blinking back tears.

[“Then you and your brothers left for months at a time and eventually as you became a man and learned of your heritage and your destiny, it was often years between visits. My concern for you never grew any less and probably increased because I knew how difficult your path was and I knew you most often walked it alone. You have become a great king of men, Aragorn, yet I still remember you as young Estel and you know my love for you has never changed ion-nín.”] Elrond paused and glanced away for a long moment and Aragorn watched him with tear-filled eyes. Finally he turned his gaze back to Aragorn and continued softly, [“My love did not change even when you and Arwen became betrothed, Estel, you know this, we have discussed it before.”]

Aragorn nodded, [“I know, Adar, I know, yet I am still…”] his voice trailed off, there were no words to describe what he was feeling.

[“I know of your great love for each other, ion-nín, and the decision was not mine to make, it was always Arwen’s choice.”] Elrond paused briefly, [“As I believe you are beginning to discover, children are both the source of incredible love and joy and have the potential to bring great sorrow to you. But never forget that the love and the joy far outweigh any sorrow that might occur.”]

[“Yes, I do believe that, Adar,”] Aragorn said quietly and with a very faint smile. He shifted slightly on the wall, pulling one leg up and resting his arm on it as he studied his father. [“Having Rebecca and Thomas has given me a little more… understanding of what you might be feeling. I know it is not the same,”] he hastened to add, [“but at least I have a sense of it,”] he frowned, staring down at his boot.

[“Why is it not the same? Because they have not been with you for long and Arwen has been with me almost three thousand years?”] Elrond asked with a gentle smile and Aragorn nodded. [“You know that it does not work that way, Estel. You became a son to me very quickly, within a few months after you arrived in Imladris and I assume that what you feel for Rebecca and Thomas is no different.”]

[“I do not think so, I cannot imagine loving children of my body more then I do them… as you said to me once,”] Aragorn looked closely at Elrond and closed his eyes briefly before fixing his gaze once more on the elf who was the only father he had ever known. [“Adar, I will miss you and your love and your presence in my life more than I am able to describe.”] Aragorn’s voice was soft and low and his eyes glistened as he continued. [“I would try and thank you for all that you have done and have meant to me, yet I know that that is not possible either,”] he paused again, [“I love you, Adar,”] he whispered as tears finally began falling and he lowered his head.

Aragorn felt a gentle hand stroking his head briefly and then the same hand lifting his chin and kissing his brow. [“I will carry my love for you in my heart always ion-nín,”] Elrond said simply, his grey eyes studying Aragorn intently for a long moment before releasing his chin and turning away with a soft sigh, but not before Aragorn saw the flash of pain that crossed his face. Standing slowly, he stepped towards Elrond and laid his hand on his shoulder, turning his father slightly and embracing him firmly which was returned in full. Finally releasing each other, Elrond gave Aragorn a warm smile and they began walking slowly back towards the Keep. [“Come, ion-nín, you should rest now, the King of Gondor and Arnor cannot be falling asleep as he meets with Marshal Erkenbrand in the morning.”]

[“Are you going to tuck me into bed, Adar?”] Aragorn asked with an eyebrow raised in question.

[“No, however I am going to open your door and make sure you actually enter your room,”] Elrond said with twinkling eyes. Aragorn laughed quietly as they walked up the stairs and entered the Keep.

0-0-0

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us lad?” Gimli asked.

Thomas looked up from his breakfast and gave the dwarf sitting across from him a hard stare. “Into the caves? No, I don’t think so, you and Legolas can go and I hope you have a good time, but I think I’ll stay out here with Rebecca and show the hobbits around.”

“You can go if you want to, Thomas,” Merry spoke up, “me and Rebecca can show everyone around, I was here for a little while.”

Thomas looked at him closely, trying to decide if the hobbit was simply being kind or if he knew of his fear of dark places, but Merry looked sincere and so he smiled. “Thank you, Merry, but I’d really rather not. Besides,” he looked at Legolas and Gimli, “I thought this was something between the two of you. Legolas was to explore the cave with you, Gimli, and then you are to go through Fangorn with him.” Gimli grunted his acknowledgement and Thomas sighed quietly in relief as Legolas gave him a knowing smile.

Aragorn stopped Rebecca, Thomas, and the hobbits as they were leaving the central hall and he carefully looked them over, his gaze lingering longest on Frodo, Rebecca, and Thomas. “And where are you all off to this morning?” he inquired.

“Rebecca and Thomas are going to show us around,” Pippin replied.

“Did you all sleep well?” Again his eyes focused on the same three people.

Frodo did not respond, but the rest gave him affirmative answers and so he looked closely at the hobbit. “Frodo?” he asked softly. “You did not sleep well?”

Sighing, Frodo shook his head and glanced around, “There are no windows here and these stone walls reminded me too much of,” he took a deep breath and looked up into Aragorn’s eyes, “other, darker places I’ve been.”

Aragorn frowned, glancing around at the walls, “I am sorry, Frodo. I wish I would have known so that we could have made other arrangements for you.”

“I didn’t know until I went to bed, Aragorn,” Frodo scowled, “and by then it was too late.” He shrugged, “It’s only for one more night and I’ll be fine.”

Sam snorted, “You need all the sleep you can get, Mr. Frodo. You haven’t been sleeping much even when we’ve been in the tents.” Frodo was starting to protest when Merry and Pippin agreed with Sam and he subsided.

“Can we set up some tents down on the grassy area outside the walls?” Rebecca asked, giving Frodo an anxious look. “At least some sleep has to be better than none.”

Putting up his hand to stop Frodo’s protests, Aragorn said quietly, “Rebecca is right, Frodo, you know that. You do need to sleep, your body needs to rest if it is to continue to heal.” Aragorn thought for a moment. “Frodo, I know you have been resistant to having sleeping draughts or even allowing me to help you to sleep, will you allow either one of those tonight?”

Frodo gave a reluctant nod, “I will tonight, Aragorn.”

“Good, and then I will let Elrond know of your sleeping habits so that he may watch over you the rest of the way,” Aragorn smiled at the frown on Frodo’s face. “I shall take my leave of you now,” he nodded and walked off, leaving the six of them staring after him.

“Well,” Pippin said slowly after a moment, “I guess we can go on now,” he turned and walked out the main doors of the Keep. He slowed once they were outside the door and let Rebecca and Thomas take the lead as the two of them led them around the main parts of the fortress, showing the hobbits the places that they had described to them during their conversations about the battle when they had been in Ithilien and Minas Tirith.

It was hard for Rebecca to walk up on the wall above the causeway, but she led them up there anyway, knowing it would probably be good for her to see the area again under the light of day. She gripped Thomas’s hand tightly as they walked along the top of the wall. Glancing down over the wall, Rebecca was surprised to see how far down it was, it hadn’t seemed that far when she was fighting, but then it had been dark and she supposed things looked a lot different then. She paused and looked around uncertainly, not exactly sure where she had stood during the battle.

“Is this the spot, Rebecca?” Merry asked quietly, looking up at her.

“I think so, it looks a lot different in the sunshine,” she replied as she stepped up to the wall and felt the rough edges of the stones as if it would help her remember. Besides Thomas, Rebecca had spoken the most to Merry about this battle. During the time they had spent together in the Houses of Healing, both of them had shared with each other their separate experiences before they had arrived in Minas Tirith. Neither of them had really expected to see any of the others again and so both had shared openly. So, he knew all about Renward and her time helping the wounded and her fear that everyone had died and even about her injuries. “It seems a lot higher than I remember,” she added as she looked down once again.

“Maybe when they re-built it, they made it that way,” Frodo said. Rebecca turned and looked at him with a puzzled frown. “Well, didn’t you say the gate had been destroyed?” he glanced at Thomas who nodded. “So if it was destroyed they probably made it taller this time.”

“I forgot,” Rebecca said, “but evidently you were listening to Thomas or Legolas or someone,” she said with a smile and Frodo nodded. “I suppose you can shoot further if you’re higher up,” she commented. “Maybe to the end of the causeway,” her eyes narrowed as she looked out over the wall and then images of that night filled her mind and she abruptly turned to Thomas. “I’ve seen enough from up here, unless anyone else wants to stay,” she said, glancing at the hobbits. After swiftly exchanging glances with one another they shook their heads. As they began walking towards the steps that led back down to the courtyard, Pippin slipped his hand into hers and she gave him a grateful smile before saying, just loud enough for Thomas to hear, “You’re going to make Thomas jealous, Pippin.”

Thomas glanced back and Pippin grinned at him, “Thomas knows I’ve loved you since the day I met you, my lady.” Frodo and Merry began laughing while Sam looked slightly appalled. Rebecca giggled as Thomas stopped and stared down at the young hobbit with a fierce expression.

“Peregrin Took,” he growled in his best Aragorn voice, “do not make me take my sword to you in defense of my betrothed’s honor.” Pippin’s eyes widened and then he slowly began grinning again as Thomas smiled faintly. “Come and walk with me, Pip,” Thomas gestured him forward as they started down the stairs, “I heard that there was going to be weapons practice this afternoon and I think you and I should spar. What do you think?” Those trailing behind, including Sam, laughed quietly at the confused expression on Pippin’s face.

“I think that Merry and I were going to do something, weren’t we Merry?”

“Not that I know of,” Merry replied with a grin as they crossed the courtyard and headed out to the Deeping Wall. Pippin shot him a look over his shoulder.

“Good,” Thomas said cheerfully, “then you and I will spar this afternoon.” After looking around at the others and finding no one willing to help him out, Pippin nodded reluctantly. By this time they had reached the breach in the Deeping Wall and Thomas took a deep breath before he quietly began pointing things out to them and describing some things that had happened to him. Because of his scar, all of them knew about the man that had saved his life and Thomas had also told them how he had died just moments later. It made it easier to talk about that part of the battle with them. They did not go down into the area behind the wall, there was really no need to do so a


Chapter 35 - Homecoming - Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters; I am only borrowing them for fun for a little while. They belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Many thanks to my wonderful Beta’s, Marsha and J

Words in [...] are elvish and individual words are translated at the end of the chapter.

0-0-0-0-0

Chapter 35- Homecoming – Part 2

The first day out from Helm’s Deep, Rebecca and Thomas tried to spend as much time as they possibly could with those they would miss the most – Gimli, Legolas, and the four hobbits. The six of them rode near each other most of the day, though Rebecca also spent some time with Haldir. Aragorn joined the eight of them during the morning, but after the lunch break he spent most of his time speaking with Gandalf, Galadriel, Celeborn, and Elrond.

As they set up their camp for the last evening they would all be together, Thomas approached Aragorn. “Would it be all right if we made a small fire for Rebecca, Gimli, Legolas, the hobbits, and me? And you if you can come,” he added quickly. “Gandalf too, but he seems to be busy most of the time,” Thomas said with a small frown. “Anyway, we thought it would be nice to have one last evening together – just the Fellowship. Legolas said no one will mind, but Rebecca and I thought we should ask you first. We don’t want to be rude or upset anyone.”

Aragorn gave him a reassuring smile, “No one would think it rude for you to do such, Thomas.” He paused briefly, his eyes narrowed, “Except perhaps for Glorfindel who, I believe, was expecting Rebecca to share a story this evening. I would not be surprised if he came and joined you, or came and requested her presence at the main fire,” his eyes sparkled.

Thomas laughed. “I don’t think I’ll tell Rebecca that, it would make her nervous. Do you think you will join us? It wouldn’t be quite the same if you weren’t there.”

“Yes, I will. I would enjoy spending time with all of you this evening,” he smiled as Thomas’s face brightened and Aragorn clasped his son’s shoulder briefly. “I will go and speak with Gandalf and let Halbarad know where I will be and will join you shortly.” Thomas nodded and walked back towards where Rebecca and the others were waiting.

Sam cooked supper for them, with help from Merry and Pippin, and as they all sat and ate, Thomas was briefly reminded of the days they had spent on the quest. Except, he admitted wryly to himself, that they were in no danger, the food was much better, they were surrounded by many other people, and Boromir was not with them. He was somewhat startled to realize that he could now think and talk about Boromir without it causing him the deep pain that it had and Thomas knew that when he had spoken with Faramir several months ago that it had helped him begin to heal. Thomas knew that it was much the same for Rebecca as he watched her laugh with Pippin over something that the hobbit had done to Boromir when they were in Lothlórien. Pipes were pulled out after supper and Thomas smiled as Legolas tried to find a place to sit that was out of the smoke and he finally sat down next to Rebecca with a slight scowl on his face since it put him next to Aragorn who was also smoking, but at least the king was downwind. Pippin, as he had done several times in the past, offered Thomas his pipe, but he declined once again with a shudder. Gandalf showed up then and settled down amidst the hobbits, lighting his own pipe and Thomas could hear the little sigh of annoyance from Legolas and a soft chuckle from both Aragorn and Rebecca. The members of the Fellowship sat up very late, talking and laughing about the journey they had made together. None of them spoke about the trip beyond Lothlórien. None of them spoke about what the next day would bring. And Glorfindel never did show up.

0-0-0

“Gandalf, will we have to talk with Saruman today?” Thomas asked as he and Rebecca rode up alongside the wizard in the bright early morning sun.

“He may not even show himself,” Gandalf replied as he gazed at them with his kind blue eyes. “But if he does, remember Saruman has no power over you and all his words are meant to deceive you.”

They nodded and then Rebecca spoke, “I hope he doesn’t show himself, Gandalf. Seeing him one time was enough for me.”

“You do not have to approach Orthanc, though I believe that you should. Do not allow him to have control over what you choose to do,” Gandalf glanced between Rebecca and Thomas. “You know that he cannot hurt you.”

“Unless he has another palantir to throw at us,” Thomas commented and Gandalf and Rebecca laughed.

“Throwing something is the only way he can hurt any of us,” the wizard agreed, smiling. “Though there is not another palantir in Orthanc.”

“Gandalf,” Rebecca asked slowly, “Aragorn told us that you are a Maia and that is why you have to leave Middle-earth. What does that mean? I thought you were a wizard,” she ran her fingers through Merilvor’s mane as she looked at Gandalf.

“Many of the people of Middle-earth call me a wizard because it is a term that they can best understand,” he replied, his eyes suddenly intense. “But Aragorn is, of course, correct and I am a Maia which in the simplest of terms means that I am a servant of the Valar. I was sent here under their direction to help combat the evil of Sauron and now that he is destroyed it is time for me to return to my home. Valinor is my home, Rebecca.”

“You must miss it,” Thomas said, giving Gandalf a look of complete understanding.

“I do, though I will greatly miss Middle-earth and the people I have grown to care for here,” he said in a soft and gentle voice.

“I’ll miss you too, Gandalf,” Rebecca choked out, looking away from him. Taking a deep breath, she turned back and gave him a shaky smile. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” she desperately tried to hold back her tears, but some trickled down her cheeks anyway.

“You are welcome, though I have done very little for either of you,” he replied with a smile. “You have both done quite well here in Middle-earth.”

“Yes,” Thomas said, “but you were with us at the beginning and helped us a lot just by believing us, Gandalf. I’ll miss you,” he added quietly.

“When will you leave?” Rebecca asked. “Do you think you could come to our wedding?”

Gandalf gazed at her with eyes full of compassion, “I do not know yet exactly when I will leave, Rebecca, but I will not be returning to the south again before that time. May your marriage be blessed,” his eyes moved from Rebecca to include Thomas who murmured his thanks.

Rebecca sighed, “I didn’t think you could, Mithrandir,” she smiled slightly as she said his elvish name, “but I still thought I’d ask so you’d know that we wanted you there.”

“I never doubted that, young lady,” Gandalf smiled in return, leaning over and patting her hand.

0-0-0

They reached Isengard early in the afternoon and Aragorn was surprised at the changes that had taken place since he had last seen it. The Isen River had been allowed to flow back into its natural course and the ents had removed the rock walls and cleaned out all the debris and had begun restoring the once beautiful landscape. He was pleased to see that the deep holes had been filled in all around the area. Aragorn wanted to protect any unwary travelers that might venture this way, not that he expected many in the near future. Still, Isengard was part of his kingdom and it was his responsibility to keep his people safe. He listened with amusement to the whispers of Frodo, Sam, his guardsmen, and his rangers, as Treebeard and another ent approached and spoke with Gandalf. Pushing those thoughts aside, he focused in on the discussion between Gandalf and Treebeard. He was appalled when he realized that Treebeard had released Saruman, and yet he knew that the ent was just as easily influenced by Saruman’s voice as any other living being. Aragorn could only hope that the fallen wizard would not cause any great damage to the peoples of Middle-earth, though in his heart he feared that he would. But there was little he could do about it now and, after exchanging a look with Gandalf, Aragorn left it in his hands to deal with. Bowing slightly, Aragorn accepted the keys to Orthanc from the ents and then gave them the grounds and vale of Isengard for their own use in return for watching over the tower on his behalf. The ents gave Merry and Pippin one last drink of their special draught and then strode away into the forest.

The members of the Fellowship gathered together a little apart from everyone else to say good-bye to Gimli and Legolas who were leaving to go through Fangorn and then north to their homes. For Thomas this would be both the easiest and the hardest of all of the good-byes he would have today. The easiest because he knew that he would probably see both of them again in less than a year and yet also the hardest because he had been around Legolas and Gimli almost every single day since his arrival in Middle-earth. They were his closest friends here and he knew that he would miss them deeply, in ways that he wouldn’t miss the others. The three of them, along with Aragorn, had had experiences together that were different than what they shared with the rest of the Fellowship. He hung back and let the others say good-bye first. Thomas watched as Legolas and Gimli very respectfully took their leave of Gandalf, not that they had ever been other than respectful to him and yet Thomas was more aware of it as he had come to realize just who the wizard was. They were no less respectful of Frodo and Sam, though in a gentler way and Thomas almost thought that Gimli had tears in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure. If Gimli did have tears in his eyes, they quickly disappeared as he turned to Merry and Pippin and began gruffly teasing them about staying out of trouble so that he didn’t have to come and rescue them again. And then it was Rebecca’s turn and Thomas was surprised at how well she seemed to handle her emotions until he realized that, like him, she knew she would see them again soon. Legolas spoke to her briefly before embracing her gently and kissing her brow, while Gimli kissed her hand and bowed deeply as he said farewell. It took Aragorn nudging him in the back before Thomas stepped forward to say his own good-bye.

[“Navaer, mellon nín,”] he said to Legolas, [“thank you,”] Thomas paused having running out of the Sindarin words he knew by heart and yet wanting to continue in Legolas’s own language as best he could and so he fumbled along for awhile. [“For all you… have done for me.”] He shrugged, “I tried to say it in Sindarin, but I guess I should just say it in common instead.” Legolas smiled. “Thank you for all that you have taught me and for just being my friend, Legolas. I know you’ll return with the dwarf,” he glanced down at Gimli and grinned as Gimli scowled at him, “but I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”

“There is no need for you to thank me for my friendship, it is freely given,” he replied softly. “However, time will pass more swiftly while I am gone if you keep busy and so I suggest you practice your archery and on my return I expect you to be much improved,” Legolas’s smile turned into light laughter and the rest of the Fellowship joined him – Thomas included. Legolas clasped Thomas’s forearm tightly and then drew him into a firm embrace. As Legolas released him, Thomas stepped back and looked down at Gimli with a small frown on his face, unsure how to say good-bye as he didn’t want to offend the dwarf who didn’t show his emotions as readily as the others did, finally he just held out his hand.

“Good-bye, Gimli,” Thomas said, “I’ll miss you. Make sure you take care of Legolas on the way home,” he grinned.

Gimli grasped his forearm hard and snorted with amusement at Thomas’s comment, “I’ll take care of the elf, lad, if you’ll take care of Rebecca.” They glanced over to where she stood in front of Aragorn, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.

“Well, I’ll do my best,” Thomas smiled, “but, like Legolas, most of the time she’s pretty good at taking care of herself.” Rebecca just shook her head, smiling.

Legolas and Gimli then moved to Aragorn to take their leave of him and Rebecca stepped aside and back out of the way. “May the Valar bless your journey home and may your return be swift,” he said as he clasped arms with Gimli and then Legolas, embracing the elf as well.

“As swift as is possible,” Gimli replied while Legolas just nodded. The two of them took their leave of the rest of the party before mounting Arod and heading off into Fangorn Forest. Rebecca bit her lip as she watched them go and as they disappeared into the trees, she returned to her horse, thanking Maldathor for holding it for her. The company mounted their horses and rode on to the Gap of Rohan where the rest of the party would be taking their leave and heading north to Rivendell.

It took four hours to reach the place where the two groups would be parting ways and during most of that time, Aragorn rode alongside Alvist giving him last minute instructions for the ordering of both the Kingdom of Arnor and for the leadership of the rangers in his stead. He had spent many hours with him in Minas Tirith and some time during the trip, but several questions had come up in the last few days that needed to be answered while they were still together. One of the most important things Aragorn was arranging was a system of messengers to speed communications between the northern and southern parts of his Kingdom. He had to be able to quickly relay orders to Alvist and needed to be able to hear back from his Steward in a timely manner. Aragorn knew it would take time, but it was one of the first tasks he was giving to Alvist, along with beginning to set up the northern capital at Annúminas.

As Aragorn dismounted to take his leave of family and friends, he cast a concerned gaze at Rebecca and Thomas, but they were facing the other way and so he turned to his own farewells. Having said all that needed to be said to Elrond at Helm’s Deep, he simply embraced his adar firmly for a long moment and whispered, [“Navaer, Adar.”] Elrond stepped back and held him by the shoulders as he gazed at him with his piercing grey eyes, which softened with love as he replied quietly.

[“May the Valar guide and protect you, ion-nín and may you be blessed all the days of your life,”] Elrond turned abruptly and walked away. Aragorn watched him go before turning to face his brothers who were watching the two of them with sorrow in their eyes.

[“Navaer, Elladan, Elrohir,”] he said as he embraced them in turn. [“Thank you for being at my side these last months and for not listening to me at Dunharrow,”] Aragorn gave them a small smile as he remembered his plea that they not accompany him through the Paths of the Dead.

[“You are welcome muindor-nín and while I do not know when our path will bring us to Minas Tirith again, it will not be long, even in the reckoning of men,”] Elladan replied. He glanced at Elrohir and then back at Aragorn, [“There will be much now that will draw us south. Navaer, Estel.”] He stepped back and left Elrohir alone with Aragorn.

[“You are a good husband to Arwen, Estel,”] Elrohir said quietly, [“and a good father to those who have come into your keeping. Perhaps when I return there will be small ones in your household,”] he gave Aragorn a sly smile.

[“Not for a time, I think, Elrohir,”] Aragorn replied with the same smile and a small laugh. [“Arwen and I would like some time to ourselves.”]

Elrohir gave him a look of understanding, [“Navaer, Estel, muindor-nín. May you be blessed.”] He embraced Aragorn again.

As Aragorn was taking leave of his father and brothers, Rebecca and Thomas were with the hobbits. “Good-bye, Rebecca, Thomas,” Frodo said in his quiet voice as he looked up at them, his blue eyes shadowed and Rebecca wasn’t sure it was because of their parting or because of his own personal pain that she knew he suffered. “I’m glad that you came here… even though I know it’s been hard for you. But I’m glad that I got to meet you,” Frodo bowed slightly before kissing Rebecca’s hand and grasping Thomas’s.

Rebecca looked down for a moment before meeting Frodo’s eyes, “May the Valar bless you, Frodo,” she said softly. “I’ll miss you… I hope that… well, I hope that you get better.” She didn’t add that she hoped that his healing would be in the Shire and not in Valinor so that she might see him again, but Rebecca suspected Frodo knew what she was saying by the look in his eyes before he turned to Thomas who quietly said his own good-bye to the hobbit.

Thomas looked down at Sam with a small smile on his lips, “Good-bye, Sam. I expect to hear all about the wedding as soon as you marry Rosie.” Sam looked startled for a moment before blushing and mumbling under his breath as the rest of the hobbits and Rebecca laughed. Sam and Rebecca said their farewells and then she and Thomas turned to Merry and Pippin and tears filled all of their eyes as they looked at each other. Merry spoke first.

“We still expect you to come to the Shire someday, Rebecca. You and Thomas,” Merry glanced at him as the hobbit took Rebecca’s hand, “need to come and see our homes and to see what the north is like.”

“I’ll come to see you and Pippin, and Sam, and Frodo,” Rebecca replied, wiping away her tears. “I want to see where you live, but I’ll mostly just want to see you. I – I can’t even imagine what it’s going to be like without all of you around.”

“Much better for everyone, I imagine,” Pippin said with a grin that Rebecca and Thomas could see through, a grin they would miss often in the days and years ahead. Knowing she could not put it off any longer and that no words could fully express what they meant to her, Rebecca embraced first Pippin and then Merry tightly before backing away with a whispered good-bye. Thomas knelt down and more hesitantly embraced both of the hobbits. Like Rebecca, he knew that there weren’t words to express how he felt about the two of them and all that they had gone through together and he also knew that the last few weeks they had been telling each other good-bye in other ways. Aragorn arrived then to take his leave of the hobbits and Thomas moved to Rebecca, taking her hand and rubbing it gently. Thomas was surprised that she wasn’t crying, except for occasional tears that fell from the corners of her eyes, but he realized that saying good-bye to those you loved paled in comparison to all they had been through in the last month. They would, hopefully, see most of these people again someday.

Aragorn knelt amongst the hobbits, much like Thomas had done, and he gazed at each of them in turn, his eyes lingering on Frodo the longest, a hint of sorrow darkening them. “Never did I imagine the depth of the courage and the honor that lay within each of you when I met you on that dark night at the Prancing Pony.” Sam shifted uneasily on his feet and Aragorn gave him a gentle smile. “Perhaps I should say that I did see your courage that night, Samwise, in your mistrust of a scruffy ranger as you tried to protect your master and that it only grew as our quest continued. The peoples of Middle-earth and, I, in my role as your King, would shower you all with gifts for your deeds on behalf of us all and yet you will take nothing.” Pippin opened his mouth to speak and Aragorn silenced him with a look. “I know you are taking the ponies, Peregrin Took,” he said with a smile as he shook his head. “And may I remind you, Peregrin, that you are a Guard of the Citadel and that you are only going on leave and that I may recall you if I have need?”

Pippin bowed, “I am aware of that, my lord King Elessar,” he replied. “I won’t forget my duty,” his normally light-hearted manner was gone instantly, replaced by the serious warrior that he had become over the last few months of their journey.

Sighing, Aragorn bowed his head briefly before meeting their eyes once again, “I will miss all of you, yet I know that we shall see each other again when I come to Arnor, though perhaps you may return to Minas Tirith before then. Be well,” he said, embracing each of them as they whispered their good-byes. He held Frodo a little longer than the others and when he released him, a look of understanding and sorrow passed between them.

It was too hard for Rebecca to watch Aragorn and the hobbits and so she turned away and saw Haldir standing a short distance away with what she at one time would have called an unreadable expression. However she could read his eyes well enough by now to see the hints of compassion there and she released Thomas’s hand and walked to him. [“Navaer, Haldir, Captain of the Lothlórien Guard,”] Rebecca said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’II miss you and I hope that you’ll be able to come to Minas Tirith again someday.” Haldir took her hand and looked at her steadily for a long moment before he replied.

“I will miss you as well, Lady Rebecca, and as my lord is staying in Middle-earth, I believe we shall see each other again.” Haldir paused, looking into the distance for a moment, “If my lord and lady allow it, I hope to come to Minas Tirith for your wedding.” Rebecca’s face lit up as Haldir continued with a trace of amusement in his voice. “Though, I have not been invited.”

Rebecca laughed, “Well, I suppose if you came we’d try and find room for you.” Her voice turned serious, “It truly would be wonderful if you could come, but I’ll understand if you’re not able to… if your duty keeps you in Lothlórien.”

Haldir gave her a brief smile, “My duties will be changing somewhat over the next few years as many of my kin sail to Valinor, but I do think that I may be able to attend,” he glanced at someone behind Rebecca before meeting her eyes once again. [“Navaer, Lady Rebecca, may the Valar be with you,”] he kissed the hand he had been holding, bowed and stepped back, looking once again to whoever was behind her. Rebecca smiled at him one last time and then, curious, turned to see who was there. She bowed to Galadriel, but the elf said nothing, just motioned for her to join Thomas, Aragorn, and Celeborn a few yards away. Rebecca joined them in time to hear Aragorn saying farewell to his grandfather, it was in elvish and she understood the gist of it - that Celeborn would return to Minas Tirith in the future - before they embraced. Joining Thomas and taking his hand, Rebecca watched as Aragorn then turned to Galadriel and bowed. Galadriel smiled gently and kissed his cheek. They stood close together for a moment and Rebecca had no doubt that Galadriel was speaking to Aragorn silently, but finally the elf stepped back.

[“Thank you, Daernaneth,”] Aragorn said with a smile. [“I shall miss your wisdom and your love. Navaer,”] he bowed once again, then cast a sidelong glance at Rebecca and Thomas as Celeborn and Galadriel turned their attention to them.

“Lady Rebecca, Thomas,” Celeborn said looking down at them with compassion in his blue eyes, “the parting of friends and those you love is often difficult and yet many of these you will see again, though the years may be long as mortals count such things. Remember that you are not alone in your sorrow,” his gaze shifted to Aragorn briefly, “draw strength from one another. We shall see each other again, young ones,” he gave them a gentle smile, “Farewell.”

Thomas bowed deeply and met the elf’s eyes as best he could, “Thank you, Lord Celeborn… for everything that you have done for me and I hope it’s not too long before I see you again.” Celeborn inclined his head fractionally as Thomas then bowed deeply to Galadriel before he moved back for Rebecca.

Looking between Celeborn and Galadriel, Rebecca wasn’t sure how to express what was in her heart, especially with Galadriel leaving and knowing that she would never see her again. Though when she looked at Galadriel she realized that the elf knew exactly what she felt and she relaxed. “I’m not sure I can say what I feel, Lord Celeborn, so Lady Galadriel will have to tell you that,” she smiled and hints of amusement appeared in the two elves eyes while those around them laughed lightly. “I do thank you for making me feel welcome in Lothlórien and for having me begin my training as a healer and as an archer. But mostly I thank you for helping me in Minas Tirith.” Rebecca paused and stared at the ground for a moment before looking up and meeting Celeborn and Galadriel’s eyes briefly. “I’ll miss you both and I wish that I could see you again Lady Galadriel. Even though I do understand your desire to return to your home.”

Galadriel cupped her cheek gently for a brief moment, “You are welcome, child. And while we were able to give you some guidance, it was your own effort and decisions that have brought you to where you are at this time. May the Valar bless you and Thomas,” Galadriel turned her eyes upon him briefly and he met them without wavering, “in the years ahead of you, in this place that is truly now your home.” Rebecca bowed before she grabbed Thomas’s hand as the two elves moved gracefully away.

“Is that everyone?” Rebecca whispered to Thomas, but he shook his head, indicating Elladan and Elrohir standing nearby. “Well, we must say good-bye to them, I suppose,” she said with a grin and Thomas smiled as they walked over to the two elves.

[“Navaer,] Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir,” Rebecca said quietly, looking from one to the other. “I hope that you won’t be gone too long, it won’t seem quite right without you there.”

“Besides, who will take care of us if we get injured?” Thomas asked with a smile and Rebecca laughed. An annoyed snort sounded behind them and the two of them turned to see Aragorn scowling down at them, though his eyes were twinkling with amusement and they turned back to the elves to see they also looked amused.

“I believe that Estel is very capable of handling any injuries that arise, Thomas,” Elladan replied with a small smile. He turned his gaze to Rebecca, “As long as the patient follows his directions,” he added meaningfully. Rebecca blushed and looked away while the others laughed quietly. “We shall return when we can, but whether that be one year or five, I know not,” he shrugged gracefully. “Be well, Lady Rebecca, Thomas, until the time we meet again.” He kissed Rebecca’s hand lightly and then clasped Thomas’s forearm.

Elrohir looked at Rebecca and Thomas for a long moment before he spoke quietly. “I do not know when we will see each other again, young ones, though I know that we will. Do not grieve overmuch at the parting of those you love this day, but instead take joy in those still with you. Each other, your adar, Arwen, Halbarad,” he glanced at the ranger who, after saying his own good-byes, had come to stand near Aragorn, “Faramir, and many others in the place that is now your home. They shall be enough for you,” he gazed at them searchingly and then smiled. “You will do well,” he added. “Navaer.” To Rebecca and Thomas’s very great surprise, he embraced them each in turn. He laughed softly as he released them, “I told you once, Thomas that as Estel was as a father to you, that made me some type of an uncle.”

“You did,” Thomas replied, still surprised at the physical display of affection from the elf, “and… well, I’m honored, I’ve never had an uncle.”

“I know,” Elrohir nodded and then looked to Rebecca who smiled. “May the Valar bless you,” he said before turning and walking off with Elladan.

“That was interesting,” Rebecca whispered as she watched them walk away, “though I guess it makes a strange sort of sense. When did he tell you that?”

“In Ithilien, when I was having those dreams I was telling you about and he and I talked about them.” Thomas turned around to speak to Aragorn, but he had disappeared and he finally saw him talking with Gandalf, and Thomas frowned slightly as he watched them. He knew how close they were and that this was another difficult parting for Aragorn. “Let’s go back to our horses, Rebecca,” he tugged on her hand and she nodded absently and he saw that she was also watching Aragorn and Gandalf. As they had spoken with the wizard earlier in the day, neither of them felt they needed to say a long good-bye to him now, and so they made their way back to where the horses were being held. They stopped and said good-bye to Glorfindel and Erestor on their way; thanking Erestor for the hours he had spent teaching them and the elf promised to send Rebecca books from the library in Imladris so that she could further her studies, much to her delight. They also said a brief good-bye to Elrond and one final farewell to Merry and Pippin before reaching their horses and stood waiting for Aragorn and Halbarad to return. Now that the actual good-byes had been said, both of them were anxious to leave and so while they kept one eye on Aragorn, Rebecca and Thomas began checking over their horses to make sure that all was in readiness for their departure. Thomas looked up when Rebecca called his name and he was glad to see that Aragorn was approaching and he sighed softly under his breath.

“Are you two ready to leave?” Aragorn asked as he drew near, looking them over carefully. They nodded and he gave them a reassuring smile before he checked Roheryn’s tack and swiftly mounted, with Rebecca, Thomas and the rest of their party quickly following his lead. Aragorn glanced at Halbarad and around at his guardsmen and the four rangers that would be his escort back to Edoras. Besides Hinluin, Laegrist and two other rangers had decided to stay in the south to be part of his personal guard and Aragorn was thankful to have at least some of the men he had known most of his life with him on a permanent basis. The group heading north departed first, none of the elves looking back as was typical of their nature, but Aragorn raised his hand in farewell to the hobbits as they turned and waved. Reining Roheryn around he looked closely at Rebecca one more time, “I would like to ride for a few hours, sell-nín, if you are able to do so.”

Rebecca scowled at him briefly and then relaxed at the look of concern in his eyes, “Yes, Adar, I’ll be fine and I’ll tell you if I get tired,” she replied quietly and he nodded before urging his horse into a canter. They rode hard for several hours, stopping just in time to put up the tents the packhorses carried before full dark fell. Thomas and Rebecca glanced around as they slowly dismounted and saw that some guardsmen were already starting to set up tents while others were taking care of the horses. They wondered who would fix meals now as several of the elves had done the cooking on the trip from Edoras. “We should probably be helping, Thomas,” Rebecca said as she quickly started to remove Merilvor’s tack.

Thomas nodded his agreement, “We should. I’ll finish with the horses if you want to,” he paused and looked around, seeing Halbarad with both Aragorn’s horse and his own while Aragorn was starting a fire, “see if Aragorn needs help. Or, you can do this,” he shrugged.

“I’ll go and help Aragorn.” Rebecca walked over and crouched down by him just as he got the fire lit and he glanced at her with a smile. “Can I do anything?” she offered. “Get more wood or help cook or something?” Aragorn’s smile widened.

“Do you know how to cook? You have never done so before.” Aragorn stood and walked over to where the packs with food supplies had been piled and she followed him.

“Of course I do, I’ve just never had to before,” she pointed out. “No one ever asked me to and there’s always been someone else fixing it or we ate dried meat and stale bread and wonderful things like that. But I can cook, though I’ve never done it over a fire before.” Aragorn looked up at her questioningly from where he was pulling things out of the packs and she shrugged. “It’s just done differently there,” she said as he handed her a couple of carefully wrapped packages of fresh bread they had gotten at Helm’s Deep. He continued rummaging through the packs and brought out vegetables, meat, herbs, and other things to make a soup, along with cheese and various fruits. Aragorn put things in several pots to carry them and started back to the fire.

“As you have never cooked over a fire, I think it best that you just help me, Rebecca. At least tonight,” he said with a smile which she returned.

“Is this enough food?” she asked as she helped Aragorn cut the vegetables into small pieces, glancing around at the number of men in the camp. Besides the four of them and the four rangers, there were another twenty or so guardsmen and the soup they were making wouldn’t be near enough for that many people. It was true that the guardsmen hadn’t eaten with them before, but Rebecca had assumed that was just because of the sheer number of people in the camp.

Aragorn gave her a wry smile as he replied, “The guardsmen will not eat with us. They do not feel it is proper to eat with the king and so they will prepare their own meals, one of them is acknowledged as a very good cook. He would actually have prepared our food as well, but I refused to allow him to do so. Halbarad and I and all of my rangers are all perfectly capable of cooking for ourselves,” he smiled again, “and it appears you are as well,” he glanced up at Thomas as he approached with an armload of wood. “Do you cook, Thomas?”

“A few things,” he shrugged. “On the ranch we sometimes had to go out after the horses and would spend a night or two away from the house and I learned how to cook some things, breakfast foods mostly. Nothing like what you are making,” he sniffed appreciatively as he set the wood down and then sat down himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Can I do anything?” Thomas asked after a moment as he watched Rebecca stir the soup.

“No, we just have to let it cook for awhile,” Aragorn said, pulling out his pipe. “You seem to be faring well,” he commented after the pipe was lit.

“It doesn’t quite seem real yet,” Rebecca said, poking at the fire with a stick. “And maybe because I’ve been away from everyone a couple of times before makes it easier, especially because then I didn’t know if I would ever see you again. Now I at least have some of you with me,” she smiled weakly at Aragorn and Thomas and then at Halbarad as he joined them. “Or, maybe it’s just that after everything else I’ve been through in the last month, it doesn’t seem too hard yet. I know I’ll miss them, Adar, just not… yet,” she stared into the fire.

“I miss Legolas and Gimli already,” Thomas said quietly, “I’m used to riding with them most of the time and it seems strange not to have them there,” he rubbed his forehead. “I’m glad they’ll be back soon… well, soon compared to when we’ll see anyone else again.” He looked up at Aragorn, “Elrohir reminded us that we have other people around us and a place to call home and to find joy in that,” he sighed, “I’m trying to, but it’s hard.”

“I doubt if he meant trying to do that today, ion-nín, it will take time, yet it is a good thing to remember. Stir the soup, Rebecca,” Aragorn said suddenly as she had become absorbed in staring at the fire and, startled, she straightened up and did as he asked, giving him a sheepish smile. Aragorn glanced up as Hinluin, Laegrist, and the other two rangers, Baisael and Balrant - who were brothers - stood uncertainly just on the edge of the firelight. Until tonight they had always eaten with the rest of the rangers at a separate fire, but Aragorn had purposefully invited them to join him. He had heeded Alvist’s advice and informed the rangers about Rebecca and Thomas several days ago, but he had seen the somewhat uneasy looks they had been giving them and he wanted to try and make his rangers a little more comfortable. Especially for Thomas’s sake and his friendship with Hinluin, though the young ranger had seemed the least disturbed by what Aragorn had shared. But Aragorn also just wanted to enjoy the company of his rangers in a relaxed and informal setting, he knew that once they returned to Edoras and joined the rest of the company for the return to Minas Tirith he would not be able to sit and talk with them like this. And in Minas Tirith he would have even less opportunity, though he vowed that he would have to take the time to do so. Aragorn had known Baisael since he had first joined the rangers almost seventy years ago and Balrant and Laegrist only slightly fewer years. While he knew that there would always be a certain degree of formality between them, he did not want to lose these relationships. Now Aragorn smiled faintly at his rangers, “Come and sit, it’s not quite ready yet.” Hinluin quickly sat down between Thomas and Halbarad while the other three rangers settled down between Halbarad and Aragorn.

Rebecca watched and listened as Laegrist, Baisael, and Balrant slowly relaxed and began talking with Halbarad and Aragorn about people and places she had never heard of. The longer they spoke, she was struck by how long these men had known each other. She assumed that all of these men were somewhere in their seventies or eighties, though except for some grey hair none of them really looked it. Thomas was trying to explain to Hinluin some details of his life before he had arrived in Middle-earth and Rebecca wished the hobbits and the elves were there so that she had someone to talk with, even though she knew she could join Thomas and Hinluin’s conversation. She was suddenly anxious to reach Edoras so that Arwen would once again be part of their party and she realized how much she was starting to look to the elf, not only for the comfort she often gave her, but also for the female companionship. Absently poking at the fire with her stick, Rebecca started when a gentle hand landed on her shoulder and patted it gently. Looking up, she saw Aragorn gazing at her with concern and also understanding in his grey eyes as he leaned over to speak with her. Rebecca quickly glanced at the rangers and noticed they were still talking with each other and she focused back on Aragorn as he whispered, “I also miss them.”

Nodding, Rebecca whispered in return, “Yes, but I was also thinking about Arwen.” She continued at his questioning look. “I’ll be glad to see her again, Adar. She just… she always seems to know what to say and I miss her.”

Aragorn smiled, “Me, too.” He checked the soup, “I think it is done, hand me the bowls.” Aragorn began dishing up the soup, silencing his rangers’ protests that he should not be serving them with a stern look. Rebecca handed the bread and cheese around and they ate, with few words spoken between them. Balrant took the dishes off to clean them and the rangers took their pipes out with contented sighs. After Aragorn had his pipe lit, he glanced at the people around the fire before looking at Rebecca and asking softly, so his voice did not carry, “Rebecca, would you be willing to tell a story tonight?”

Rebecca’s gaze flew swiftly to the rangers sitting across from her and then back to Aragorn and she shook her head, “Not tonight, maybe tomorrow.” Aragorn nodded. “How long will it take to get to Edoras?” she asked, louder now.

“Since we do not have the ponies slowing us down, I intend to ride hard tomorrow and then get there late in the afternoon the following day.” He smiled at her, “We will not be riding as hard as we have sometimes ridden in the past, sell-nín.”

Across the fire from them, Halbarad snorted, “I doubt we’ll ever ride as hard as we did across southern Gondor, my lord.” Quiet laughter followed that remark.

“But we made it to Minas Tirith on time,” Hinluin pointed out with a grin. Aragorn was glad to see that much of Hinluin’s cheerful personality had been restored in the last couple of months. He knew that the loss of his brother had been, and would continue to be, a devastating loss for Hinluin, especially as he had already lost his parents. But Aragorn had spoken with Hinluin on several occasions during the months since Hinhael’s death and felt that the young ranger was doing well and would eventually be able to recover from the loss. The rest of the rangers were very protective of Hinluin since he had joined the rangers at a very young age after his parents had died and Aragorn thought that that was part of the reason that Baisael had decided to stay in the south. Baisael’s wife had died and so there was nothing keeping him in the north, but he had been very close friends with Hinluin’s father and Aragorn detected a distinctly paternal air about him when it came to Hinluin. Balrant, who at seventy-five was almost twenty-five years younger than his brother, was going to go north in the spring to bring back his wife and children, as was Laegrist.

Aragorn mostly listened as his rangers, helped along by Halbarad, finally began asking questions and talking with Rebecca and Thomas about the time they had come from. He could feel Rebecca relaxing beside him the longer they talked and he was somewhat surprised at how nervous she seemed, yet he knew that once she got to know his rangers she would trust them completely – just as she did Halbarad. Glancing at the sky, he could see it was getting late and that with the day that lay ahead of them it was time for them to seek their rest. At a pause in the conversation, he spoke up quietly, “We have a long day ahead of us and I intend to seek my rest now.” He stood gracefully to his feet and after a momentary hesitation, Rebecca and Thomas stood as well. “I will escort Rebecca to her tent, Thomas,” Aragorn said quietly, yet firmly and the two murmured good-night to each other without protest and Thomas headed off as Aragorn led her to a small tent set in the middle of the other tents. “Good-night, Rebecca,” he said as stopped in front of her tent. “Will you be all right sleeping here alone?”

Rebecca stared at him and then laughed quietly, “I’m not exactly alone, there must be thirty men here, Aragorn.”

“Yes, but you are not sharing a tent with one of the elleths now and I thought it might be difficult for you.”

“No, Adar, I will be fine. It’s not as if I haven’t traveled with a group of men… males before,” she pointed out with a grin. “And at least now I have my own tent.”

“I know, but things have changed now and I just wanted to make sure.” Aragorn suddenly thought of something. “Rebecca, I must ask that if you and Thomas have daughters someday,” he smiled inwardly at her blush, “or if Arwen and I have daughters, that you do not tell them that I allowed you to travel around Middle-earth without a proper chaperone.” His voice was lightly teasing.

Looking at Aragorn for a moment, Rebecca let her gaze drift away into the distance as she slowly answered. “Well, I’m not sure what Thomas and I will be able to tell our children about us, Adar. How do you explain to children that their parents come from another time?” She looked back at Aragorn with a puzzled expression. “I hadn’t thought about it before,” she sighed, “but I guess we’ll figure something out.”

“I had never considered that either, sell-nín,” Aragorn replied softly. “But there will be an answer to that question when it needs to be answered, it will be some years yet before any children you might have would be old enough to understand something like that.” Rebecca nodded. “And you will have Arwen and I to help you explain and answer their questions and I think that between the four of us, we will be able to deal with it, Rebecca.” He examined her closely for a moment and what he saw was extreme weariness, which was not surprising considering the events of the day. “We can discuss this more in the morning if you wish, but I believe you need to rest now and I hope that thinking about this will not keep you awake.”

“No, I’m sure I can sleep, Adar,” Rebecca said, fighting off a yawn, “and I know this will all work out. It’s just strange all of these little things that keep coming up that we didn’t think about.”

Aragorn hesitated, wanting to ask her what other things she was referring to and yet he knew she needed to sleep and so he simply whispered good-night before embracing her and watching her enter her tent. He walked once around the encampment to make sure that the guards were in place before he entered the tent he shared with Thomas.

0-0-0

The now small company rode swiftly the next day as they headed back toward Edoras, though they did take frequent breaks to rest both themselves and their horses. Little conversation passed between them as they rode as all were drawn into their own thoughts of those with whom that had parted and, for some, thoughts of those who were waiting for them in Edoras. They camped that night beside a small stream well over half way back to Edoras and the evening passed much as the night before, with the same group gathered around a fire eating and talking until sleep beckoned them.

The sound of rain striking the surface of the tent woke Thomas early the following morning and he groaned quietly, trying not to disturb Aragorn, but he was unsuccessful and the king sat up, stretching. “Do you not enjoy rain, Thomas?” he inquired with a grin.

“Not from the back of a horse,” he replied. “It can be quite beautiful when I’m sitting inside a house and watching it through a window, but I’ve had to work in it too many times to really enjoy it,” Thomas grimaced.

Aragorn began pulling on his boots and Thomas followed his lead. “I have ridden and walked in so many kinds of foul weather, Thomas, that, while I do not enjoy it, it no longer bothers me much.” He threw back the tent opening and looked up at the sky. “Although it does appear that we will be riding in it all day. You will appreciate your Lothlórien cloak today, it should keep you quite warm and the rain off very well.”

“You need to teach me how to do that,” Thomas said quietly as he began rolling his bedroll. Aragorn gave him a questioning look and Thomas sat back on his heels and explained. “How to read the weather by looking at the sky like you just did, how to tell time at night by looking at the stars, tracking… Legolas taught me some things, but not nearly enough, and other things like that, Adar. I’m going to live here the rest of my life and I need to know those kinds of things.”

Knowing that Thomas was correct and wanting to teach him himself, Aragorn thought for a moment before he responded because he knew that the biggest hindrance would be finding the time, though mostly that would be for the tracking. He could begin teaching the other things to Thomas right away, though the weather would be the hardest and perhaps Arwen and Halbarad could help as well. “You do need to know those things and I will be pleased to teach them to you, though the tracking may take time as you know I am not able to leave the city often. We will come up with a list of other things… practical things like this that you and Rebecca need to learn.”

“Thank you,” Thomas smiled as he finished tying his bedroll before gathering the rest of his things and putting them in his saddlebags. Pulling his cloak tightly about himself, he ducked out of the tent opening and followed Aragorn to the fire which had been kept burning through the night. “Good morning, Rebecca,” he greeted her as she emerged from her own tent and joined them wearing her own Lothlórien cloak.

“Morning,” she said with a cheerful smile, glancing from Thomas, to Aragorn, and Halbarad, the rangers being on guard duty this morning.

“You’re far too happy this morning, lady,” Halbarad said, glancing at her and then back to the fire.

“My cousin is not fond of rain,” Aragorn commented with a small smile, but made no other explanation. Halbarad scowled at him, but said nothing and Rebecca and Thomas exchanged puzzled glances and finally Aragorn leaned over to them and said in a low voice, “I will tell you why he does not like rain at some other time.”

“I heard you, cousin,” Halbarad said, frowning at Aragorn.

“I know you did,” Aragorn grinned at him. “Come, we need to eat and be on our way quickly.” They ate some of the now stale bread, some cheese, and fruit before saddling their horses and heading out.

It rained lightly, but steadily all day and so the rest breaks they took were much shorter as all were anxious to reach Edoras and get out of the wet weather and into warm, dry clothing. When the city was spotted in the distance a distinct sigh of relief could be felt running through the group of riders and the pace picked up slightly. Slowing to a walk as they finally approached the gates, Aragorn glanced around, but could see no sign of Arwen, though he knew it was foolish of him to expect her to be waiting out here in the rain. After speaking briefly with the guards at the gate, Aragorn urged his horse on and led the party up to Meduseld where he could see Arwen, Éowyn, Laereth and Lothíriel standing on the covered porch of the building, while Éomer, Faramir, Imrahil and his sons Elphir, Erchirion, and Amrothos were waiting at the bottom of the steps as they approached. His eyes immediately went to Arwen’s and he was relieved at the return of the serenity he saw there, which had been lacking the morning he had left. Aragorn gave her a small smile, his own eyes reflecting his love for her before he turned his attention to the men waiting for him as he dismounted. He moved to greet them as stable hands led his horse away and Aragorn was somewhat surprised at the depth of his feelings for these men that he had known for a relatively short amount of time, though he also knew that war tended to bond people together in ways that other experiences did not. Pulling his hood back and running his hands over his hair to get some of the dampness from it, he looked from one man to another with amusement in his eyes.

“You could have waited on the porch to greet me, my lords. There is no need for all of us to get wet,” Aragorn said, smiling.

“Ah, but we could not let our Lord King suffer alone,” Imrahil said, his eyes twinkling and Aragorn shook his head as he turned to greet Éomer.

“It is good to see you again, Éomer, my brother,” Aragorn said as he clasped the King of Rohan’s forearm before embracing him.

“You as well, Aragorn,” Éomer replied, looking him up and down and then beyond him to where the rest of the small party was standing. “We need to get you and the others inside and dried off.” Aragorn nodded as Éomer added quietly, “And I imagine there is someone you would like to speak with.” Aragorn did not respond beyond a small smile as he turned to speak with Faramir, Imrahil and the others while Rebecca, Thomas, and Halbarad moved to greet Éomer.

“Lady Rebecca, Lord Halbarad, Thomas, welcome back to Edoras,” Éomer said before kissing Rebecca’s hand and clasping the arms of the two men.

“It’s good to be back, Éomer,” Rebecca said as she pulled her hand back inside her cloak. Although the temperature had not dropped much from the previous day, the dampness made her feel much colder and she was anxious to go inside and get dry. She also wanted to speak with Arwen and Éowyn and while she knew it would be rude to leave without greeting everyone who had waited for them, she was tempted to do so anyway. But she stayed and just as Halbarad was speaking with Éomer, Aragorn turned and glanced at her and insisted that they move up to the porch. Smiling inwardly, Rebecca wondered if she would ever truly get used to how women were treated here… or at least how Aragorn treated her and Arwen. Though most of the other lords and ladies she knew also appeared to treat women much the same as Aragorn. Well, she was grateful for it today if it brought her out of the rain and closer to a fire she thought with amusement. “Hello, Faramir,” she said as they happened to walk up the steps together.

“Lady Rebecca,” he said, inclining his head in greeting. “How was the journey?”

“It was… very hard at times,” she said pushing her hood back as they reached the porch and Rebecca glanced up at the Steward. “I think that knowing I’ll see most of them again made it a little easier. The other things I’ve gone through lately have been so difficult that saying good-bye to them just doesn’t seem too bad right now. But I do miss them.”

“I imagine you do,” Faramir replied quietly, “and there may be times when you feel the loss more intensely than others, but it will ease over time,” he assured her gently just as they reached the women who had been waiting and Rebecca nodded her understanding.

Aragorn greeted Éowyn, Laereth, and Lothíriel, kissing their hands and speaking politely to them before he turned to Arwen. Taking her hand, he drew Arwen to him, pulling her a little away from the others at the same time and studying her face intently as they moved. She smiled and he whispered, [“You look well, meleth-nín,”] before he gently kissed her.

[“I am,”] she agreed, [“as do you, though you appear tired.”] Aragorn gave her a faint smile as he nodded once. Arwen glanced beyond him to where Rebecca and Thomas were speaking with Éowyn and Faramir and she spoke softly, [“How do Rebecca and Thomas fare, beloved?”]

[“Quite well, better than I had thought they would,”] he replied. [“Rebecca has missed you,”] he added, brushing her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. [“Come, you should speak with her and Thomas so that we may go and I can get out of these wet clothes,”] a glint appeared in his eyes as he turned to where Rebecca and Thomas were still speaking with others.

Arwen leaned over and spoke quietly into his ear, [“I am sure you do not need my help to change your clothing, beloved. You go and I will speak with them and meet you in the Hall later,”] she laughed lightly as Aragorn turned and stared at her, his eyebrow raised in question.

Aragorn’s expression softened as he gazed at Arwen and then he replied in a low voice, [“I thought that you could advise a poor, wandering ranger on the appropriate attire to wear this evening,”] he whispered with a grin.

[“I will do what I can, my lord husband,”] she agreed, smiling and Aragorn led her over to where Rebecca was speaking with Éowyn.

“Arwen!” Rebecca exclaimed with delight when she realized the elf was standing alongside her and she turned to greet her properly. She wanted to embrace her, yet she hesitated as she had never done so before and Rebecca wasn’t sure if Arwen would allow her to do so. But Arwen must have read something in her eyes because she immediately released Aragorn’s hand and stepped forward and took Rebecca in her arms and embraced her gently for a moment.

“It is good to see you again, Rebecca, I have missed you,” Arwen said, brushing the damp hair from Rebecca’s face.

“I’ve missed you too, Arwen,” she replied with a smile. Rebecca glanced at Aragorn and then at Thomas, “There were times when I just needed to speak with you.”

Arwen gave her a gentle smile, “I understand that there are often things that are more easily spoken about with another woman.”

“Well, yes,” Rebecca agreed, “but I just wanted to speak with you.” A look of dismay suddenly crossed her face as she looked Arwen up and down. “I got you all wet!”

“I believe that Estel is the one that got me wet, Rebecca,” Arwen said in a soothing voice. “Do not concern yourself; I will change my clothing in a moment.” Aragorn coughed once and looked into the distance as Arwen turned to Thomas with a smile. “I am glad to see you, Thomas, I have missed you as well.”

Thomas took Arwen’s hand and kissed it lightly in greeting. “Hello, Arwen, it’s good to see you and I’m glad we’re all back together again. It’s been rather strange to be separated like this, even for just this short amount of time.”

“Eleven days can sometimes be a long time,” Aragorn observed, glancing at Arwen. Shaking out his cloak he looked at Rebecca and Thomas, “I think it is time to get out of these clothes.” He turned to find Éowyn and saw that she was speaking with Faramir and he smiled as he watched them for a moment. Éomer, Halbarad, Imrahil, and Elphir were talking together off to one side of the porch and the rest of the welcoming party had disappeared into the building. “Pardon me, Lady Éowyn,” Aragorn waited until she looked up before continuing, “but is there someone that can show Rebecca and Thomas to their chambers? Unless they are staying in the ones they were in before.”

“They are in the same chambers, my Lord Aragorn,” Éowyn replied with a hint of a smile. “I have ordered hot baths to be taken to all of your rooms and they should be there shortly.”

“Thank you, Éowyn,” Rebecca said with a very grateful smile. Besides being cold she had not had a real bath since leaving Helm’s Deep five days previously.

“You are most welcome. A feast will be served in a couple of hours, but if you are hungry, I will arrange to have something sent to your chambers, or you may come to the Hall and I will have something prepared for you.” None of them wanted anything delivered to their rooms and so after taking leave of those on the porch, the four of them made their way to their chambers for hot baths and dry clothes.

0-0-0

Thomas met Rebecca in the Hall after he had bathed and changed into dry and formal clothing. They stood near the central fire pit talking quietly as servants bustled around them preparing for the feast. “Do you know how long we’re staying here, Thomas?”

“We’re leaving in the morning.”

Rebecca looked up at him, startled by the news. “So soon? I thought we’d stay a few days,” she said with a small frown.

“We’ve been gone a long time, Rebecca. Unless we ride as fast as we did the last couple of days, which I doubt because we’ll have Arwen, Laereth, and Lothíriel, besides you with us, it will take us at least nine or ten days. That means we’ll have been gone about six weeks, which is a long time to have both the King and the Steward gone from Minas Tirith, especially since Aragorn is so new. I know there are a lot of things he has to do.”

“I suppose he does and you’d know how much work he has. And it will be good to be back and sleep in my own room again,” she smiled

“It will be nice,” he agreed, grinning. “Though when we’re traveling it’s nice not to worry about how I dress,” he plucked on the sleeve of his black tunic with the White Tree, the Crown, and the Seven Stars of Gondor embroidered over the left side of his chest.

“You look nice,” she said, pulling his hand away from his sleeve and holding it instead. “I like it when you dress up.”

Thomas shrugged and glanced around, “Do you want to go outside? I don’t think supper will be served for awhile.” At her nod, he led her out one of the side doors and to the covered porch they had sat on so many times before. The rain had stopped, but clouds still darkened the skies as they sat on the bench overlooking the vast plains of Rohan. While it was not cold, the lingering dampness in the air made it chilly and Thomas put his arm around Rebecca and drew her close – after first glancing around and making sure they could not be seen by anyone except their ever present guards, who stood well away from them. “Now,” he said, smiling at her, “you look beautiful in whatever you wear, but I do like this color on you,” he lightly touched the green gown that Rebecca wore.

“It’s one of my favorite colors,” she said taking his hand again, intertwining her fingers with his with a soft sigh.

Thomas leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek and then sat back watching her with a soft smile. At her expression he began kissing her again, gently at first and then more deeply as she responded to him. He moved his hand up into Rebecca’s hair, running his fingers gently through it as he continued to kiss her. Suddenly conscious of time slipping by, Thomas reluctantly pulled back, placing one last tender kiss on Rebecca’s mouth as he did so. “We really should stop,” he whispered. “I don’t know what time it is, but I’m sure the feast will start soon and we should be ready to go inside,” he grinned and moved away from Rebecca just a little and she laughed quietly. It had been a very long time since the two of them had had any time alone.

“This is another reason it will be nice to be back in Minas Tirith, Thomas. Maybe we’ll actually have some time to spend together without others being around.”

“The garden is sounding better and better,” he agreed with a smile, leaning back against the bench and staring out into the distance. After a moment, he glanced back at Rebecca, “We should go in now, it must be getting close to the time for the feast to start.” Thomas stood and helped her to her feet and began leading her back towards the Hall. “Do you think Legolas and Gimli are through Fangorn yet?” he asked suddenly.

Blinking at the sudden change of subjects, Rebecca answered slowly, “Well, I don’t know, but I doubt it. I looked at the maps of that area and it’s a really big forest, a lot bigger than Lothlórien. Gandalf and I spent two days walking through just a part of it and even with Arod; I don’t think they’d be all the way through because I know Legolas wanted to explore things.”

“Gimli must be enjoying that,” Thomas said with a grin.

“Probably not, and he’ll grumble about it, but you know he won’t let Legolas down.”

“No, he won’t,” he replied with a trace of wistfulness in his voice and Rebecca squeezed his hand as they entered the Hall and looked around. Relieved that the feast had not started, they crossed the room to join Aragorn, Arwen, and Éomer near the fire. Rebecca looked for Éowyn, but she was either finishing overseeing preparations for the meal or was with Faramir.

Aragorn glanced briefly at Rebecca and Thomas as Éomer continued speaking of the needs of his people. So many of the villages in the Westfold had been destroyed by the Uruk-hai and the men from Dunland, that his people were in real danger of starving. Livestock had been killed and crops had not been planted in many places because so many men had ridden off to war and by the time they had returned it was too late to plant, or else the seed had been destroyed when the villages had burned. Rohan was, in many ways, worse off than Gondor because Gondor at least had the southern part of it’s country which had seen relatively little damage and could share some of its bounty with those in need in the northern part of the country. The two kings spoke briefly of how Gondor could best aid Rohan and how Éomer intended to return that help at a future time as his country was restored to some semblance of normalcy. With that agreed upon, the two of them turned to the others who were quietly discussing the trip home.

“Thomas thinks it will take nine or ten days to return,” Rebecca was saying to Arwen as Aragorn focused his attention on their conversation.

“That seems about right,” Arwen replied. “We will not have wains or the hobbit’s ponies to slow us down, and I believe that Aragorn,” she glanced at him,” is anxious to return to his duties.”

“I have many things that must be done,” Aragorn agreed softly. “As does my Lord Prince Steward and I believe that Prince Imrahil is also ready to return to Dol Amroth. He has been in Minas Tirith and away from his home for over eight months now.”

“How long does it take to get to Dol Amroth? If you ride at a normal pace, I mean,” Thomas said with a smile.

“It takes a little longer than traveling here, twelve or thirteen days,” Aragorn replied with a smile of his own. “Though you can also go by ship and it takes about a week, unless the weather is foul.”

“I’d like to see it sometime,” Thomas commented, “Boromir mentioned it once and I’d like to go there.”

“I am sure you will as it is a part of my kingdom that I will visit, probably in a few years. We will go there much sooner than we will be able to go to the north.”

“I have heard that it is a beautiful place,” Éomer said, with a small grin as he glanced over to the door leading to one of the hallways.

Aragorn followed his gaze and then laughed quietly as Prince Imrahil walked in escorting Lady Laereth, followed by Elphir with Lothíriel on his arm and then Erchirion and Amrothos. The Prince and his family crossed to where Aragorn was standing and he watched as Imrahil gave Éomer a slight nod before bowing to Aragorn. Glancing at Lothíriel he could see her eyes shining as she gazed at the King of Rohan. Evidently Éomer spent his time getting to know Lothíriel while we were gone, Aragorn thought with amusement and Imrahil seems to have accepted that, though he knew how difficult it would be for the Prince to have his only daughter so far away. He glanced at Arwen and she gave him a small smile just as Éowyn arrived with Faramir.

“The meal is ready to be served,” Éowyn announced quietly to the assembled guests, gesturing for them to proceed to the one long table where supper had been laid out for them.

As they sat at the table, Aragorn glanced around for Halbarad and saw that he had slipped in at some point and was sitting near Faramir. It was strange to have such a small company eating supper together after the large number of people that had filled the Hall the last time he had eaten here. Marshal Elfhelm had returned to his home in the Eastfold and Éomer had not invited any of the other nobles from Edoras to the feast, though it was a feast in name only as it was a relaxed, informal gathering among friends. Knowing it would be a long time until all of them would be together once again, they stayed up late talking, only moving over closer to the fire at one point, at which time Éowyn and Faramir seemed to have disappeared, Aragorn noted with an inward grin. He knew it would be especially difficult for the two of them to be parted; he well understood the loneliness that Faramir would have to deal with during the next year until his marriage. He would have to keep him busy – not that that would be a problem.

0-0-0-0-0

Searching around Meduseld for Thomas was no easy task for Aragorn. There were too many nooks and crannies were he could be hidden, not that he actually thought Thomas was hiding, but he wanted to find him before breakfast and he was not in his room or in the Hall and Aragorn stopped and thought for a moment. Then he immediately headed down a side hallway that led out to a porch where he found Thomas staring out over the plains in the faint light that heralded the coming of the sun. “Good morning, Thomas,” he greeted him as the young man glanced over his shoulder just as Aragorn stepped onto the porch. “I do believe that you are aware of your surroundings this morning,” he said with a grin.

Thomas grinned back, “Yes, I am,” his eyes sparkled and then he turned back to the view he had been studying as Aragorn stepped up beside him. “Isn’t it pretty this morning,” he said quietly as the sun peeked over the mountains to the east and began reflecting back off the Snowbourn River below them and shining on the golden grasses and light blue flowers that covered the plains of Rohan.

“It is,” Aragorn agreed, “though I imagine that you see it through different eyes than I do.” Thomas gave him a startled look, but Aragorn just smiled back. “I brought you something,” he held out a bound sheaf of paper and some drawing sticks. “The market is not open this early, but I asked Éowyn for these.”

“Thank you, Adar,” Thomas said as he took them from Aragorn with a pleased smile. “It’ll be nice to have these for the trip home.”

“I thought you would enjoy having them and I knew you would use them either on the way home or once we returned to the city.” Aragorn turned to go back inside, “Are you coming for breakfast now or did you eat something earlier?”

“No, I’ll come eat now; I just wanted to take one last look from the porch. I have a lot of memories of Edoras and most of them come from this particular spot,” Thomas commented as they walked back into the building. Éomer met them as they entered the Hall.

“Good morning, Aragorn, Thomas,” he said in greeting, which they returned. “I have been looking for the two of you; I would like you to accompany me outside for a moment.” Exchanging puzzled glances Aragorn and Thomas followed Éomer out the main entrance of Meduseld and down the steps and across to the royal stable. Thomas patted Baldor affectionately on the nose as he passed his stall and continued down the length of the incredibly ornate stable, with its carved pillars that were similar to the ones in Meduseld and the stall doors that were painted green and gold. Éomer stopped at a stall where two of his stable hands were waiting and he turned back to Aragorn and Thomas, his brown eyes fixing on Thomas. “I have a small gift for you, Thomas. It is partially to thank you for your service to Rohan at Helm’s Deep, though I know that you do not desire thanks for that and indeed there is nothing that I could do to make up for the blood you shed that night,” he indicated the faint scar on Thomas’s face and waved his hand as Thomas opened his mouth to protest. Éomer gave him a faint smile, “It is also intended to make up for the lack of a truly well trained Rohirrim horse that I gave to you when first we met, though you have done wonders with Baldor. It is because you have trained him so well that I thought to gift you this,” Éomer motioned to the stable hands and they opened the stall door.

Thomas drew in a sharp breath as they led out a young, bay-colored colt that was dancing around, but he could tell that this horse was fiery and high-spirited and had not been trained yet. It appeared to be around a year and a half and he knew it was an incredible gift. He suddenly realized that the horse looked a lot like Éomer’s horse, Firefoot. “It looks like your horse, Éomer,” he stated, not taking his eyes off the colt.

“They are brothers, and I thought that you would like to train this one for yourself and make him truly your own horse.”

Thomas glanced at him then and saw his pleased expression and then his gaze shifted to Aragorn who was leaning against a pillar, watching them with a smile. “Can I have another horse?” he asked somewhat anxiously. Aragorn laughed and nodded.

“Yes, Thomas, you may have another horse. I am sure we will be able to find room for him in our stable,” his eyes sparkled with amusement. “We have room for him and many other horses,” he added rather dryly.

“I know, but…” Thomas left that train of thought and instead started to approach his new horse, stopping when he realized he still held the bound sheaf of papers and drawing sticks in his hand. He turned and handed them to Aragorn who accepted them with an amused look, and then Thomas resumed his slow approach to the horse, speaking softly to it. The colt had calmed somewhat and the stable hands had backed away, one of them holding it on a long lead line. The colt stared at him wide-eyed and quivered slightly, but let Thomas approach and after smelling his hand, it shook its head a few times and blew out its breath before it let Thomas rub his nose and scratch between its eyes and around its ears. Thomas slowly ran his hand along the horse’s neck, murmuring to it quietly the whole time. He had just reached the withers before the horse decided that was enough and began shifting uneasily and Thomas stopped and stepped quietly back, not wanting the horse to become too agitated. He turned back to Éomer, “Thank you,” he said simply, there really were no other words he could say. He knew it was useless to try and argue with Éomer about the gift, not that he wanted to now anyway, maybe before he had seen the horse, but not now.

“You are welcome and you will do well with the colt. Have you ever trained one?”

“Not from this age, no, but I’m sure that there are people around me who have,” Thomas glanced at Aragorn who nodded, “and I’m sure they will help me.”

“As I said, you did well with Baldor and I am sure that you will be able to train this colt as well.”

“Does he have a name?” Thomas asked, glancing back at the horse as the stable hands put him back in the stall.

“No, not yet, it is for you to decide,” Éomer replied.

Thomas thought for a moment and then glanced at Éomer, “I think I’ll call him Firefoot in elvish,” he said with a grin that Éomer returned. “Aragorn, Firefoot is… Nartál in elvish, is it not?” he shook his head at saying it that way.

Aragon smiled, “Yes, it is, I did tell you that learning Sindarin would be useful,” he commented.

“We need to return to the Great Hall and find Rebecca,” Éomer said, “I have a gift for her as well,” he turned and led the way from the stable. They found her speaking with Éowyn and Arwen near the central fire pit, apparently waiting for breakfast to be served and they looked up and greeted the three men as they approached. “Forgive me for interrupting, my ladies” Éomer said with a slight bow, “but time is passing swiftly this morning and I have a gift to give to Lady Rebecca before she leaves.” Rebecca gave him a surprised look and then looked at Thomas who grinned at her before she turned her gaze back to Éomer. “As I just told Thomas, I want to thank you for the help you gave to Rohan at Helm’s Deep, both during the battle itself and then later when you helped with the wounded. I have spoken with Sigebréoht since our return here to Edoras and he told me of your work with the wounded that night and of the lives you helped save.” Rebecca stared at the floor, she neither wanted nor needed thanks for that night. “I know that like Thomas you do not desire any gifts, however it is a king’s prerogative to give them to those he feels are deserving.” Éomer paused and Rebecca finally looked up and saw that he was smiling and obviously waiting for her to look at him before he continued, which he now did. “I knew that by the time you arrived at Edoras, Aragorn would have given you a horse, and so Éowyn and I spoke about what else you might desire and this is what we decided on.”

Éomer beckoned a servant to him and the man approached carrying a small wooden box. Stepping over to one of the tables, Éomer had the man set the box down and take the lid off before he dismissed the servant with polite words of thanks. “As you are fond of books, Éowyn and I thought that you might enjoy some from our library here,” he gave Rebecca and then Aragorn a small smile as he pulled several books from the box. Rebecca’s face lit up as she reached for the books, but Éomer held them out of reach for a moment. “Unfortunately, not all of the books that we desired to give you are in the common tongue and we are having them translated and copied, but it will take some time to do so and then we will have them sent to you.” He handed the books to Rebecca.

Éowyn stepped over to her as she opened the cover, “The books are ones that we did not think you would have in Minas Tirith, Rebecca. The history of our people, stories from our land…”

“Sigebréoht even insisted on putting in a book or two about healing,” Éomer interrupted his sister, “but I do not think those are finished yet.”

“Thank you, Éomer, Éowyn, thank you so much,” Rebecca said, looking at the two of them while still running her hand over the books. “I’ll enjoy reading them very much.”

“You are most welcome, my lady,” Éomer said with a bow while Éowyn just smiled at her. Éomer glanced around, “It appears breakfast is ready,” he said nodding to the tables where the food was being set down, “come and eat.” He led them towards the table and, after a moment, Rebecca reluctantly followed. But not before she carefully placed the books back in the box and secured the lid back on the top.

0-0-0-0-0

The majority of the traveling party – Aragorn’s Citadel Guards, members of Faramir’s White Company, and Imrahil’s Swan Knights, some sixty men in total – waited outside the city gates, while the three royal families of Gondor took their leave of Éomer and Éowyn. This was not a particularly difficult parting for either Rebecca or Thomas; they knew that they would see both Éomer and Éowyn again in a relatively short amount of time, if not at their own wedding, then at least at the wedding of Éowyn and Faramir sometime next summer. While Rebecca treasured the friendship she had with Éowyn and was looking forward to having her live in, or at least near, Minas Tirith; the relationship she and Arwen were developing was helping to fill the longing she had for female companionship that she had often experienced since being in Middle-earth. She and Thomas took their leave of Éomer and Éowyn and then he led her to the stable to get his new colt while Aragorn and Arwen said their own good-byes.

“Farewell, my brother,” Aragorn said, clasping Éomer’s forearm and then embracing him. “I will look to see you in Minas Tirith sometime next year. I imagine sooner rather than later,” he said with a sly grin, his eyes drifting to Lothíriel who was standing with her parents and brothers near the horses, having already said her good-byes.

Éomer laughed, “Perhaps,” he agreed noncommittally.

“We will be there in Lótessë,” Éowyn said rather firmly, glancing at Faramir as he approached. “I do not want to miss Rebecca and Thomas’s wedding.”

“And is that the only reason you want to go to Minas Tirith, sister?” Éomer asked with a grin.

“No,” she admitted, smiling at Faramir, “there are other reasons I would like to visit the White City.” Faramir took her hand and kissed it gently, not releasing it as he stood beside her.

Faramir looked at Éomer, “Since our wedding will be here in Edoras, it would be a chance for the people of Minas Tirith to see and greet Éowyn before she becomes my wife,” his lips curved into a slow smile.

Éomer stared hard at him while Aragorn and Arwen laughed quietly. “You will have to come up with a better reason than that, brother,” Éomer said after a moment, shaking his head and laughing.

Faramir shrugged, “You have three good reasons now, Éomer. The wedding, Lothíriel, and for the people to see Éowyn, and I know that I would enjoy seeing you again,” he said, amusement clearly evident in his voice.

Aragorn finally spoke up. “I think, my Lord Prince Steward that we must work on your negotiating skills before I feel confident in sending you out on behalf of Gondor. I do not believe that you should sound quite so desperate,” he grinned at Faramir and then at Éomer.

“I doubt, my Lord King Elessar, that I will ever be quite this desperate in any situation that you could ever send me to.” Faramir kissed Éowyn, this time on the lips and her eyes widened in surprise as the Steward backed away, releasing her hand. “My lady,” he said bowing, “I take my leave of you now.” He turned to Éomer and smiled, “My Lord King, I will see you in Minas Tirith.” Faramir turned and strode off towards the horses, casting a sidelong look and a grin at Aragorn as he passed him.

“Well, Éomer I am sure that some sort of official invitation to the wedding will be sent to you,” Aragorn said slowly, “however I am not sure it will be quite as… personal as the one you just received.”

Éomer snorted with amusement and laid a hand on Éowyn’s shoulder, “The one Rebecca gave was quite personal and much more likely to bring me to Minas Tirith than that just given by your Steward, Aragorn. We will come if things are going well here in Rohan,” he smiled at Aragorn and then down at his sister.

“I thought you might,” Aragorn smiled at his fellow king and then turned to Éowyn. “Farewell, Lady Éowyn, Arwen and I will watch over Faramir for you,” he kissed her hand.

“Thank you, my Lord King.” She turned to Arwen, “Good-bye, Arwen, I look forward to living in Minas Tirith now that I will know more people than just Faramir and Rebecca. I am glad that we were able to spend some time together here.”

“I look forward to it as well, Éowyn and may the year pass swiftly for you,” Arwen said with a smile. “Farewell.” She turned to Éomer and took her leave of him as well and then she and Aragorn joined their company.

-0-0-0-0-0

The farewells made, the stirrup cup passed around, the King of Gondor and his party slowly made their way down through Edoras and out through the gate where the men of their escort were waiting and then fell in behind them as Aragorn took the lead as they headed south and east towards Minas Tirith. The pattern for the trip home was established on that first day. They rode thirty to thirty-five miles a day, riding somewhat harder in the cool of the morning and slowing in the heat of the afternoon to make it easier on the horses. They stopped once at mid-morning and once in the afternoon, as well as taking a break for lunch. Several times during the trip, Aragorn or Faramir led out small parties to hunt for game, either when they stopped for the night or early in the morning before they broke camp.

The evenings were spent around the fire and Aragorn kept his word to Faramir and told of his time serving Rohan and Gondor when he was a younger man and went by the name of Thorongil. Imrahil shared his memories of those times as well, since he had also known Aragorn during those years. Other people also shared stories in the evenings; Arwen of things she had seen and done over the long years of her life and also elvish tales; Erchirion turned out to be a gifted storyteller and told tales of Dol Amroth and other places in southern Gondor; Rebecca repeated the stories that she had shared with the party during their trip between Edoras and Isengard and a few new ones; and Faramir told stories of growing up in Minas Tirith.

Rebecca found herself spending quite a bit of time with Lothíriel. Aragorn had informed the rest of Prince Imrahil’s family of the truth about Rebecca and Thomas several weeks before they had left Minas Tirith for the trip to Edoras. He had felt that they needed to know, as the two families would be together too often in the years ahead to hide something like that. Rebecca had been thrilled because she genuinely liked Lothíriel, yet had held herself back from her because she couldn’t be totally open with her about her past and now the two of them began building a true friendship. She and Thomas took walks together in the mornings or evenings when there was time, and they rode together during the day – sometimes alone, though more often with others in the party.

After they had been traveling for several days, Rebecca found that this part of the journey was the most pleasant. The pace was relaxed and there was nothing looming ahead that she had to worry about and she could just enjoy each day as it came. Thoughts of Legolas, Gimli, Haldir, and the hobbits were often on her mind, but it was more of a dull ache than true grief and Rebecca spoke of them with Aragorn, Arwen, Thomas, and Halbarad which helped ease the loss considerably.

Besides spending as much of the day as he could with Rebecca, Thomas also spent some time with Hinluin when the ranger was off duty… which was not too often. He also spent time with Elphir, Erchirion, and Amrothos. He knew Elphir and Erchirion somewhat from the time they had spent together during the march to the Black Gate and then later in Ithilien, though Erchirion had spent most of that time in the healer’s tents. The one closest to him in age at twenty-five, Amrothos, was the one he knew the least and while they were polite to each other, Thomas knew they would never be particularly close friends. Thomas actually got along best with Elphir, who at thirty-two was married and who was very anxious to return to Minas Tirith to his wife and young son.

Thomas went hunting with Aragorn and Halbarad twice on the way back and both times, Aragorn took the opportunity to show him some tracking skills… after first having Thomas demonstrate what Legolas had already taught him. While he never even attempted to shoot an animal, his archery skills were not good enough for that, Aragorn and Halbarad did begin teaching him how to clean the deer that they killed and Thomas began to rethink his request to learn such practical skills, but only for a moment. Part of him wondered at the necessity of learning this particular skill, until he realized that he did not know what his future would bring him, if anything the recent past had taught him that and so Thomas watched and listened intently to Aragorn and Halbarad and tried to learn what they were teaching. Later he wished he had his paper so he could sketch some of the scenery and the animals - the living ones – they had seen during the morning, but he realized it was not the time to do that and so Thomas drew some of the things from memory later and he had to be content with that.

Following behind Thomas on a short lead line was his new horse, Nartál, and Éomer had evidently seen that he was trained enough to follow well and to not be spooked in a company of horses because the horse did not get frightened as it walked among the other horses. Thomas groomed him well every evening after taking care of Baldor and just spoke softly to the horse continually, letting the horse get used to him and his presence as he cared for it. Taking Aragorn and Halbarad’s advice, he did not let anyone else care for the colt right now, he wanted it to become used to him and dependent on him for his care. Thomas was still slightly overwhelmed at the gift that Éomer had given him, but he already loved the young horse and looked forward to training it as it grew into what he hoped would be a horse as strong and swift as Éomer’s.

Of all the company, Aragorn probably enjoyed the journey back to Minas Tirith the most. He took full advantage of the time that he could spend with his family, Arwen especially. While he, Faramir and Imrahil spoke daily about the things that needed to be done to restore the Kingdom of Gondor, they also discussed things of a more personal nature and Aragorn could feel an even greater openness in his relationship with the two men. He was pleased because he knew it was something that was needed if the three of them were going to be able to work well together. Still, though, what he enjoyed most was the time that he spent with Arwen and also with Rebecca, Thomas, and Halbarad. Aragorn knew that once they were back in Minas Tirith that he would not have the opportunity to have this much uninterrupted time with any of them. He also enjoyed doing simple things like hunting and cooking, although the first time he cooked something, he could see the shocked expression on the face of Laereth and he could tell that it even made Imrahil slightly uncomfortable to have his king serving him supper. But they became accustomed to it as he continued to share the duties with Faramir and Halbarad, although everyone else either helped in the preparation or in cleaning up afterwards.

With the help of Arwen and Halbarad, Aragorn began teaching Rebecca and Thomas some of the things he had spoken about with Thomas earlier on their journey, starting with telling time at night. Several times before they returned to their tents for the night the five of them would walk out beyond the circle of the camp and away from the glow of the fires - accompanied by their rangers to guard them – and would sit and look at the stars. Rebecca and Thomas knew the story of Eärendil from Erestor and now they started learning the position and names of many of the other stars. After a time of speaking of the stars, the five of them would often turn to speaking of other things, like the friends they all missed or the changes facing them in the years ahead and so it was usually much later than they intended before they returned to the camp to seek their rest on those nights. Aragorn had little chance to begin teaching them about the weather as it remained fair, except for one day where it rained briefly in the morning, but he, Arwen, and Halbarad started showing them the small subtle signs that they watched for or felt. When Faramir saw what they were doing, he also began to teach Rebecca and Thomas, declaring that the weather in the South was different than the North and he would be a better teacher for them. At which point Aragorn gave him a hard stare for a long moment and then smiled.

Aragorn and Arwen often trailed behind the rest of the company, though still well within the circle of their escorting guards. At times they talked of Elrond and the rest of their family that had gone North to their homes, but mostly they shared thoughts and ideas about their home and possible changes they wanted to make. Or they discussed ways to make sure that they were out among the people more often and finding ways to insure that the Citadel did not become an isolated place, but a place were the citizens of the kingdom were welcomed. Arwen also wanted and needed work of her own, both so that she would not become isolated and distant from the people and for her own personal satisfaction. They discussed the children they would have, and even though Aragorn had told Elrohir they wanted to wait some time before having children – which they did – he also knew that there was some pressure for them to have an heir and that could not be put off too long. Often though, the two of them rode quietly together, simply content to be in each other’s company after so many years apart.

And so the nine days of their journey passed rather swiftly as they rode back towards Minas Tirith until they reached the last place they would camp before they would reach the city. They stopped rather early at a place that Faramir remembered from his younger days, a place where a stream had a deeper pool of water where they could swim or bathe if they so chose. After the long days on the road with only being able to do a minimum of washing, most of them took advantage of the opportunity.

Returning after a rather cold bath, Rebecca and Arwen started making supper while the men were still bathing and they worked quietly for a time until finally Rebecca spoke. “Are you looking forward to being back in the city?” she asked, glancing at the elf. “You seem to like being out here.”

Arwen paused and sat back, looking at Rebecca for a moment before she answered, a soft smile on her lips. “I do enjoy being here, just as I will enjoy being in Minas Tirith. But it is not the place, Rebecca, it is the people that I am with that make them enjoyable. Minas Tirith is my home because that is where Estel is… and you and Thomas as well. And you, are you looking forward to being home?”

Rebecca stopped cutting the venison she had been working on and gave Arwen a thoughtful look. “Home?” she said, almost under her breath. “Minas Tirith is just where I live…” her voice trailed off. Her home had always been with her mom… her home was in St. Paul, Minnesota. She suddenly realized that she never called Minas Tirith home. She always spoke of it in terms of it just being a destination, the place where she lived; The King’s House was just that, a house and not really a home to her. Not in the sense that the house she had grown up in was a home to her. Rebecca shifted her gaze back to Arwen and saw that she was watching her with understanding and compassion in her eyes and she thought about what the elf had just said and she knew that Arwen was right. Minas Tirith was her home because Aragorn was there, Thomas was there, and Arwen, and Halbarad. While Rebecca could not and would never forget the place where she had grown up and called home, she realized it was time for her to acknowledge that she had a new home now with people that she loved and cared for deeply. She finally gave Arwen a small nod, “Yes, I’m looking forward to being home,” she paused, “If only to have a proper bath.”

Laughing lightly, Arwen reached over and grasped one of Rebecca’s hands, squeezing it gently as her laughter stopped. “You will always treasure the memory of your previous home, Rebecca, as I do mine.” They returned to preparing the meal as Arwen added, “And we have begun building memories of the home we now have.”

Keeping her eyes on her work, Rebecca said quietly, “And of our family, Arwen.”

“Yes, [sell-nín],” Arwen said in a gentle voice.

Rebecca froze and then looked hesitantly at Arwen who was smiling softly as she looked at her. Searching her face intently for a moment, Rebecca finally nodded once before she said, “I-I can’t call you Naneth, Arwen. I just don’t think I could do that,” Rebecca looked away briefly, “even if… if, I just can’t,” she finished helplessly.

“I do not expect you to, Rebecca and if it makes you uncomfortable, then I will not call you daughter either. Yet, I see you that way and I sense that you feel that way as well.”

“I do, but I also see you as a friend and so it’s different than…” her voice trailed off and she looked into the distance for a moment before turning back to Arwen.

“You are an adult and our relationship is, of course, different than what you had with your mother. That can never be replaced,” Arwen said quietly.

“No, it can’t,” she paused and then smiled at Arwen, “I’d like you to call me your daughter.”

“Is supper ready?” Aragorn called from a short distance away as he, Halbarad, and Thomas returned from the stream. Startled by his voice, Rebecca looked up as the three men drew near and she saw that the rest of the men had also returned, but were going directly to their tents. “Are we interrupting something?” Aragorn asked in concern as his gaze shifted between Arwen and Rebecca.

“No, Rebecca and I were talking and became distracted from fixing the food,” Arwen replied.

Although he knew something had happened between the two of them, Aragorn simply nodded and turned to Thomas. “Will you please take these to my tent while I stay and help prepare supper?” He held out the things he had used while bathing and Thomas took them and then looked at Halbarad questioningly, the ranger gave him a small smile and then handed over his clothes and other things for Thomas to put away. The two rangers began helping cut up the rest of the venison and the vegetables to be roasted for supper without further comment. Aragorn glanced at Rebecca and Arwen from time to time as he worked, finally deciding that whatever they had been discussing, while serious, had also been resolved before he had arrived. As he knew that Arwen would tell him later, he did not bring it up again and instead began talking about the trip into Minas Tirith.

“Faramir and Imrahil have suggested that I send riders ahead of us in the morning to alert the city that I am returning,” Aragorn said, finishing the sentence with a sound that was somewhere between a resigned sigh and a laugh.

“Does that mean the rest of us are not returning?” Rebecca asked with a grin.

Aragorn joined Arwen and Halbarad in their laughter before shaking his head, “No, you are not getting out it of that easy, sell-nín,” he replied with a grin of his own.

“Getting out of what?” Thomas asked as he sat down beside Rebecca.

“Returning home,” Aragorn said as the last of the meat and vegetables were put in pots, covered, and then placed in the fire itself, buried in the coals to cook.

“I’m looking forward to being home,” Thomas said. “Except for having lessons with Dolgaran again,” he glanced sidelong at Aragorn.

“As soon as you can speak Sindarin fluently you may stop attending,” Aragorn said with an impassive expression, but twinkling eyes.

“I should have practiced more when the elves were still here,” he said with a sigh.

“I am still here,” Arwen reminded him with a soft smile and he blushed faintly. “Aragorn and Halbarad also speak it, as does Faramir. You have many people to practice with Thomas.”

“Yes,” Thomas nodded, knowing it was a lost cause, though he did wonder how he would ever have time to do everything that he needed to do now that he also had a horse to train. He decided that he would just have to work with Nartál in the early mornings before breakfast. Perhaps he could practice his swordplay every other day or in the evenings and maybe he could work on his archery with Rebecca.

Watching Thomas for a moment, Aragorn then glanced towards Faramir’s tent and the tents of Imrahil’s family, but as they were still inside he asked Thomas, “Who was the last King of Gondor and what happened to him?”

Surprised by the question, Thomas just looked at Aragorn for a moment and then answered him slowly. “Eärnur and he went off to battle the Witch-King at Minas Morgul and was never seen again. That’s when the Stewards became the Ruling Stewards until, oh, a few months ago,” he finished with a smile.

Aragorn smiled in return, “And what was Eärnur’s largest failing, his biggest mistake?” he asked.

Thomas paused and thought about the question because he knew there was more to what Aragorn was asking for than the obvious. Of course Eärnur had been foolish to ride off to battle the Witch-King with just a few men and so Thomas thought about what else he knew about the man and he finally looked at Aragorn. “He was too proud, he didn’t listen to the advice of his Steward who had told him he shouldn’t go,” he paused briefly. “He also didn’t marry and leave an heir for Gondor and so he was selfish, too, he only thought about what he wanted to do.”

Aragorn nodded, satisfied. “Yes, that is right and he left Gondor in a desperate situation. Thomas, I need you to continue to learn the history of our kingdom and to learn to look beyond the obvious and see what the important things are and what the truth is. Just as with your painting, it is a gift or a skill you can develop. I do not know what the future holds for you and what you might like to do.” He gave Thomas an intent look. “You may decide that you want to continue working alongside me in which case you will definitely need to know the things you are learning from Dolgaran because you will not remain just my aide, but become one of my trusted councilors. Someone I depend on to speak up in council meetings or someone I might send to represent me in the towns and villages in southern Gondor or in Arnor. I do not know.” He smiled at Thomas’s stunned expression, “I would not send you anytime soon, Thomas, it would be many years before these things would happen. You may decide instead that you would rather focus on your painting and your art, but still the knowledge you gain from Dolgaran will be useful even for that, in ways that you cannot imagine now. Someday you and Rebecca will have children,” Aragorn added softly, “and there will be things that you will want to teach them and not trust solely to others.”

“When you say it that way, I can see the need for studying and learning… it makes sense. But would you really send me somewhere to represent you? Do you think I could do that?”

“Yes, I would, Thomas.” Aragorn answered without hesitation. “And yes, it is something that is well within your ability to do. I trust you now, [ion-nín], you simply do not have the knowledge or the experience for me to send you to distant places to represent me at this time. You are rather young,” Aragorn added, smiling.

“I know, I knew you didn’t mean right now anyway, I just never thought of doing anything like that,” his expression became thoughtful. Thomas shook his head and continued, “I really don’t want to go anywhere for a long time unless I have to, I just want to stay home and have a normal life for awhile,” Thomas said, glancing at Rebecca who was watching the two of them intently, but smiled when he looked at her.

“Normal life?” Halbarad snorted, his eyes full of amusement. “You think life in the Citadel is normal?”

“Not to you maybe, but to me it is,” Thomas replied. “At least for my life here, Halbarad, not compared to what it used to be in my own time. Normal compared to running all over Middle-earth and fighting orcs. I know you’re talking about the fact that it is a… palace and there are servants and guards everywhere, which isn’t exactly what I was used to,” he grinned. “But for me it’s just my home now – a place where I live with my family. I like being there because of that, Halbarad, and I think it’s as normal as my life is ever going to be here in Middle-earth.”

Halbarad conceded the point, “That’s true, but it’s far from normal for most people.”

“It’s certainly not what you’re used to either,” Rebecca said with a small laugh. “Just as Thomas and I aren’t really used to it yet, it’s even stranger for you, isn’t it Halbarad?” The ranger nodded, giving her a rueful smile, while Aragorn laughed softly. “Sometimes when I’m at… home,” she glanced at Arwen as she said this and Aragorn wondered at the look they exchanged before Rebecca continued. “It seems like one of those fairy tales I told you about, Adar. Living in a Citadel with a king and a queen, having servants, wearing fancy clothes,” she frowned down at the leggings and tunic she was wearing and then laughed briefly. “Well, dressing up most of the time, and other things like that is just like what I imagined from the stories I read. The only thing that is missing,” she cast a mischievous look at Thomas, “is for me to marry a prince. The girl almost always marries a prince in a fairy tale.”

Thomas took his time in replying while amused looks crossed the faces of Aragorn, Arwen, and Halbarad, though none of them laughed. “Prince Erchirion and Prince Amrothos are still unmarried, Rebecca,” he reminded her. “So if you must have a prince, I suggest you ask one of them,” he smiled as she frowned briefly before she replied with a smile.

“No, it’s far too late for that, Thomas Morgan, I already love you,” Rebecca said softly and he took her hand and caressed it gently.

Clearing his throat, Aragorn bit back a smile as Rebecca and Thomas turned startled faces to him. “I am glad that you are becoming accustomed to our home and that you feel comfortable there… at least most of the time,” he glanced meaningfully at Halbarad knowing that the adjustment to living in the Citadel was actually harder for him than it was for either Rebecca or Thomas. While their struggles were with being in Middle-earth and all that that entailed, living in the Citadel was a relatively minor adjustment in the overall changes in their life. They were content now to have a family and to have a home, no matter what it was like. But Halbarad had grown up in a small, isolated village and had traveled the wilds all of his adult life and while Aragorn knew he would adjust and do well in Minas Tirith, it was still a struggle at times for his cousin. Halbarad did not respond to Aragorn outside of a single, small nod. “And, Rebecca?” he waited until he had her full attention and then he leaned over and whispered rather loudly, “Thomas is as close to a prince as you are going to see in our home until Arwen and I have a son.” Aragorn’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she laughed.

“I know that, my Lord King Elessar,” she replied in the same tone as Aragorn’s. “Why do you think I said ‘yes’ when he asked me to marry him?” she grinned.

Aragorn‘s laughter was joined by Arwen and Halbarad and even Thomas smiled at Rebecca’s comment before he turned to speak with Elphir who had just arrived. Aragorn took Arwen’s soft hand in his sword calloused one and rubbed it gently as he listened to Rebecca and Thomas talk and laugh with each other and then with the other members of their party as they joined them at the fire. His thoughts were drawn back to the evening he had first seen them, unconscious and injured, lying in the middle of a clearing in the wilds of Hollin in their strange clothing. He thought of their fear and utter confusion when they awoke and found themselves in a place they had never heard of, surrounded by beings that did not exist in their time. Their courage and determination had amazed Aragorn then and it continued to amaze him even now. Few people that he knew could have gone through what Rebecca and Thomas had gone through and emerged from it as well as these two young people had. They both had scars from their experiences, both physical and emotional ones, and yet those experiences had also matured them in many ways. Although, Aragorn thought as he watched them fondly, there were many times when their true ages and inexperience about life showed and he rather liked those times, simply for the amusement and joy they brought to his life.

While Aragorn did not know what the future held for Thomas and Rebecca, he thought that… Aragorn’s thoughts stopped in mid-stream and he blinked several times as pictures began appearing in front of his eyes. The pictures switched quite rapidly from one to the next, but he glimpsed enough of them to make sense of what he was seeing. The first was obviously eight to ten years in the future because it showed Arwen, Rebecca, Thomas, and him in a garden playing with children, some had dark hair like his and Arwen’s and some had lighter colors. There were four children and ranged in age from a tiny baby to one that appeared to be about eight. The next picture was of all of them in Bree surrounded by three familiar hobbits and some that Aragorn did not know. There was a picture of Thomas standing in the council chamber, speaking to the members of the council. There was a picture of Rebecca working in the Houses of Healing and another of her sitting at a table writing while Thomas stood nearby painting. Quickly slipping past him were pictures of various elves and also, to his grief, what appeared to be a battle on some distant field. Many of Rebecca and Thomas’s closest friends appeared quite frequently in the pictures as they sped past Aragorn’s eyes and he was glad to see that they would continue those relationships in the future. Finally the vision stopped and Aragorn blinked his eyes rapidly and shook his head slightly to clear it and bring himself back to the present.

“[Are you well, Estel?”] Arwen whispered, leaning into him and looking at him with concern.

[“Yes, meleth-nín, it was just a vision,”] he whispered back with a smile, caressing her hand again.

[“What was it about? Is everything all right?” ]

Aragorn glanced across the fire at Rebecca and Thomas who were laughing at something that Faramir had evidently just told them and he turned his gaze back to Arwen with a broad smile. [ “It was about our family, Arwen, and all will be well.” ]





The End
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