A little background needed here: it is my belief that the hooded figure that Aragorn meets in the tent at Dunharrow was originally intended to be Arwen. Hence this bit of silliness, intended as a sequel for 'Arwen's Vision'.

Like 'Arwen's Vision' it is AU (though not quite so bad: mostly characters being a little OOC) and based on the movie, not the book, so please don't start complaining that it's not Tolkien.

I own nothing that you recognise (though I'd not say no to Aragorn; he could teach me to swordfight!).

…………………………

Aragorn rubbed the back of his neck as he followed the Rohirric soldier across to Théoden's tent. Valar, was he stiff! He must have slept very awkwardly.

He pushed aside the flap that sheltered the doorway and saw Théoden talking to a figure in a black cloak. The figure's face was mostly hidden in a deep hood, but it looked vaguely familiar.

Théoden looked up and noticed Aragorn standing there.

"I take my leave," he said softly. As he went to pass Aragorn he paused to glare at him for a moment, then shouldered him roughly out of the way. Aragorn looked after him in some surprise, rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm not sure I deserved that," he muttered, then turned back to the hooded figure, which had now risen to its feet. It raised its hands and lowered its hood, to reveal none other than Arwen.

Aragorn gasped and stepped forwards. He had not thought to see his beloved Arwen again; he had assumed that she had Sailed by now.

He was about to embrace her when his head was suddenly slammed round with a ringing slap.

"What's this I hear about you flirting with the princess of Rohan, Aragorn son of Arathorn?" she snarled.

"I may have deserved that," Aragorn muttered, rubbing his bruised cheek. Then he raised his voice to a normal speaking level and protested, "But Arwen, I thought you had Sailed! I never meant to be unfaithful to you!"

"You'd barely got rid of me when you were running after some mortal girl," she responded, still more venomously. "How long have you been looking for an excuse to get rid of me and go your own merry way?"

"No, it's nothing like that…"

"I think it's something very much like that, Aragorn!" She put her hands on her hips. "I persuaded my father to let me come here in order to prove to myself that a vision I saw of you married to another woman was untrue. And I get here, and what do I find? You're happily flirting away, probably with the very same girl that I saw! Does this child know that you're engaged?"

"I explained the situation to her," said Aragorn, remembering Éowyn asking him about the Evenstar.

"Well, I intend to go and find her and explain it again, more clearly, since her uncle certainly had no idea that you were leading his niece on."

Aragorn realised that he was slowly backing away. However, from this new angle he could see that Arwen was not only carrying her father's sword, but also a hilt that looked very familiar.

"Arwen," he said, cutting her off in the middle of her rant. "Are you carrying Narsil?"

She unbuckled the sword belt and held out the sheath in both hands. "No, I'm carrying Anduril. Father had Narsil reforged for you, and I hope you fall on the point, you cheating orcling!"

He sensed that it was respect for the sword more than anything else that prevented her from hurling it at his head.

"And he said to tell you that it will allow you to get the allegiance of the King of the Dead, in the mountain."

Aragorn sighed. "Arwen, I never did anything to lead Lady Éowyn on."

"Oh, really, so it was some other ranger of the north to whom that she offered a goblet at the feast, and who drank from it?"

"Arwen," spluttered Aragorn, "I was a guest in her house, how was I supposed to behave?"

Arwen bared her teeth at him, reminding him for a minute of a hungry warg. A beautiful, hungry warg, but still a hungry warg.

"Get out of my sight! I'll think about forgiving you for this and let you know what I decide."

Aragorn fled, his new sword cradled in his arms. He didn't even take the time to fasten the belt around his waist as he grabbed his belongings and tacked up Brego. He was going to run for it, right now. The Paths of the Dead sounded like a better option than potentially facing Arwen's wrath again.

He heard footsteps from behind him and turned to see Éowyn.

'Oh no,' he thought, 'She's spoken to Arwen already.'

"Éowyn, whatever Arwen's told you…" he began, raising his hands to placate her.

"Arwen?" she asked, stopping. "I was just coming to ask you not to leave."

'Sweet Valar, why me?' thought Aragorn desperately, turning to adjust his girth.

"I must. Is that the only reason you came?"

"Well, to ask you if what my uncle told me about you and this woman, with whom you are on first-name terms… is true," she said dangerously.

"Uh…"

Aragorn turned round, only to get another, harder, slap on his other cheek. He raised his hand to the bruise as Éowyn turned around and fled, sobbing.

"That one I deserved," he muttered.

End