What Will Be

by Moonstonez

Even Fangorn and its elves are not safe from the shadow that approaches from the east. Dark times have a way of drawing out that which is hidden and binding together the most unlikely of allies. Fangorn and Rohan's survival may depend on one Watcher and one Marshal of the Mark to bring them together to battle the evils of Sauron. Note: ON HOLD

4. Chapter 3 - The Rescue

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings material or benefit financially in any way.

Authors Note: There was a lot to cover in this chapter. It is a hybrid of the book and movies leaning more to the books. This chapter took a while to write, it was harder to incorporate her with the previous fellowship members than I thought… plus working late doesn't help or getting writers block. Let me know what you think and thanks for reading!

Chapter 3 – The Rescue

Nárwyn stood outside the palace in the crisp morning air. She was unable to sleep the night before, the impending journey weighed heavily on her thoughts. The noise from the hall did not help; Castien was up all night entertaining the hobbits. Nárwyn shook her head and smiled as she thought about last night, her brother had made fast friends with Merry and Pippin. They had a lot in common, love of drink, love of song and love of Pipe-weed, maybe Castien was not an elf at all but an overgrown hobbit she mused.

She absently spun Caennin around on her finger as she waited for Mithrandir and her family to come. The ring had loosened its hold on her finger and she did not fear it any more… there were plenty of other things to fear. Soon she will be leaving her home to go to Rohan… to go to him. The thought of seeing him again brought on terrible anxiety. How was she going to tell him about the bond? She feared what his reaction will be… the thought of his anger or rejection was almost too much for her to bear. Nárwyn sighed and started to pace on the small walkway that led to the steps of the palace She was growing impatient and wished Mithrandir was here so they could leave… to just get it over with.

Nárwyn heard the doors open; she turned to see her brother stumble out the door and down the stairs. She smirked as he flopped down gracelessly on to the stone bench. Nárwyn couldn't resist taunting him when he was in this condition; it was something she relished doing for centuries now.

"It's such a lovely morning! Don't you think so brother? "she said in an exaggeratedly cheerful tone. Nárwyn walked over to the side of the walkway so her back was to the rising sun. Castien groaned but kept his head down, his fingers gingerly rubbing his temples. "I see that you had fun with your new friends… "

"The hobbits are fun," he said with a faint smile that turned to a grimace as if the sound of his own voice hurt his head. "Maybe too much fun…" he muttered.

"What is wrong with your eyes Castien? They have a strange look about them…" She knew it was not a nice thing to do to him in his current state but she could not resist.

"My eyes? What…!" he had looked up at her and the bright sunlight poured around her silhouette, her golden-copper hair amplifying the beams that stabbed directly into his eyes blinding him. He yelped and covered his eyes, his head was now throbbing.

"That was just plain mean sister," he glowered. Nárwyn laughed as she sat down next to him, she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It is your own fault brother…" she said as she looked up at him. "You said last night that I had to learn to be 'mean' if I was going to go live with the barbarians and have little barbarians..."

"I said that?" Castien groaned. "Sorry about that... you know how I get when I have a bit too much."

"Of course, you turn into an obnoxious ass," Nárwyn said sweetly as she elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oww! Mercy sister, am I not suffering enough? My head feels like it will split soon," he whimpered.

"Have Lháewnis make you some tea," Nárwyn suggested.

"She already told me she wouldn't after I got out my special wine last night," Castien said as he rubbed his eyes. "She's a cruel woman to make me suffer. You kind sister, could whip me up a batch couldn't you?" he asked hopefully.

"I already packed up my herbs… sorry." Nárwyn said as she watched the sun climb higher in the sky.

"You would not have made it for me anyway…" he muttered bitterly. "The least either of you could do is teach me how it is made," he whined.

"If we did that you would be in the wine every night," she laughed. Castien glared at her and grumbled under his breath. Nárwyn was about to continue her needling when she noticed a falcon circling in the sky above them. The falcon started a free-fall directly towards them. Nárwyn quickly stood up and held out her arm for the bird. It was Ren… Nárwyn felt her heart speed up as the bird glided in for a landing. Ren landed on her forearm, his sharp eyes studying her as she untied the message tube from his leg.

"Take him please," she said to Castien as she took the tube from his leg. Castien held out his arm and whistled and the falcon hopped to his arm. With shaky fingers Nárwyn worked the paper out of the small leather cylinder. She unrolled the paper and started to read.

"My Lady, Lord Éomer has been arrested for treason. Grima means to execute him in 7 days. Please help. –Gamling"

"Sister? What is it?" Castien asked his voice full of concern as he watched the color drain from her face and noticed her trembling hands. Nárwyn reread the note multiple times hoping the words would say something different each time she read them, she wasn't even aware of how bad her hands were shaking. She finally broke away from the shock of the news and looked around in a panic.

"I have to leave… I have to leave now!" She handed him the note and raced up the stairs to find Mithrandir and her father.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

They had been walking through the forest for several hours and Nárwyn's patience was waning. The goodbyes had been hurried earlier… quick hugs and kisses and then she was rushing Mithrandir down the path to the forest. She hoped her family understood her urgency, after the note, Nárwyn could only think about getting to Edoras… to Éomer. Nárwyn felt like they were going in circles looking for these friends of Mithrandir. If they would have just gone directly south instead of east of the Entwash River they could be on the plains by now. Her frustration at Mithrandir's pace was also getting to be a factor; did the man not understand the meaning of haste? She wanted to scream out in frustration and just leave Mithrandir behind.

"Nárwyn we need to stop here," Mithrandir said as they passed under the great oaks next to a low stone wall.

"Why? We are losing light," she said impatiently.

"We need to stop here because this is where they will meet us," he said simply.

"Maybe I should go on ahead, we can meet at Edoras…" she said as she looked to the south.

"No, you will wait here. Nárwyn, we will get there in time," he said trying to calm her. "We will need help and you cannot do this alone."

"I could, I would go in the night…" she tried to reason but Mithrandir cut her off.

"You will do him no good if you were captured. Please, try to be patient; we will get to Éomer in time." Nárwyn started pacing as Mithrandir took a seat on one of the stones.

"You have no idea how this feels Mithrandir…"she said wringing her hands. She felt like she was losing her mind, she had never been this worried about anything or anyone before. "I don't want to sit; I need to keep moving… I feel we are going to be too late." she said quietly. She pace more before finally sitting down on the ground next to Mithrandir and buried her face in hands. Mithrandir placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Trust me Nárwyn, Grima will not succeed, we will make it in time," he said softly as he smiled down at the distressed maiden at his feet. They sat there quietly for several minutes, Nárwyn thoughts were in turmoil, she felt helpless… a feeling she despised. The only other time she truly felt this helpless was when Éomer was dying... She shook her head and tried to banish the memories of that night. Mithrandir stood up suddenly; his eyes scanned the trees to the south east. "They are almost here, it would be best if you stay out of sight until I call you."

"I thought they were your friends?" she asked as she stood up and dusted off her leggings.

"They think I'm dead, I'm not sure how they will react to seeing me," he said with a slight grin. "Whatever happens, do not engage them. I will handle this," he said firmly. Nárwyn shrugged and climbed up into the nearest oak tree.

"I will stay up here then," she said as she made herself comfortable on a thick limb. "Are you sure you won't need my help if they attack?"

"I sure…" Mithrandir said absently as he stared into the shadows of the forest.

"If you say so..." said Nárwyn not entirely convinced of the Istari's abilities at combat. She had never seen him fight in the nearly five hundred years she has known him. She tried to clear her mind enough to hear the tree song on the wind; her anxiety had been too high earlier to focus. Nárwyn lay back on the tree limb and closed her eyes, she let her mind wander as she started to hear the song on the wind. It calmed her to hear the melody again; she didn't realize how much of a comfort it was until now. The voices were many, the trees were not pleased to have three strangers in the woods. They were definitely close, so close she could hear them now. She sat up on the limb and watched as they slowly came into view. There were three of them, a man… he had a bow, he moved quick and surefooted; there was a grace to his movements one only finds from combat. A ranger of sorts she speculated, but unlike any she has seen near Fangorn.

There was an elf, this surprised her; his hair was like Lháewnis a silver-blond that was braided. He too had a bow and similar swords to her own, he was wary of the trees. He could hear the song but she doubted he understood it, only elves of Fangorn new all of the words. His stance reminded Nárwyn of her brother Aranron, disciplined, reserved and fast.

The third could only be a dwarf; she had never seen one before. Her brothers had told many tales about them from before they came to Fangorn. He carried an ax and she could feel the anger from the trees as he walked past them. They were approaching the stones where Mithrandir waited; he had pulled his grey cloak up. From in her perch in the oak tree she could hear them talking.

"See the old man, he is hooded and cloaked…" said the elf.

"They say Saruman wanders the forest disguised as old man," said the man. Nárwyn had to suppress a laugh, how could they think Mithrandir was Saruman. They were almost upon Mithrandir, Nárwyn readied her bow, regardless of what he said, she would not let these fools harm him. The dwarf ran up his ax raised.

"Saruman!" he yelled. "Where are the hobbits? What have you done with them?" He swung at Mithrandir but the ax was easily deflected with his staff and sent flying into the underbrush, the force of the blow also sent the dwarf reeling and he fell to the side. Nárwyn was amazed; she did not know the old wizard had it in him. Mithrandir pulled off his cloak revealing his white robes which seemed to emanate a light of their own blinding the other two. The elf shot an arrow at him which Mithrandir easily deflected sending it flying towards Nárwyn only to embed in the tree trunk right above her head. She cursed under her breath and glared at the men below. The ranger drew his sword to charge the Istari, the metal turned orange as if it was newly forged and the man dropped it yelling in pain. Nárwyn could see the fear in the ranger's eyes.

"Do you not know me Aragorn?" Mithrandir asked as the light from his white robes started to dim.

"Mithrandir!" cried the elf as he dropped to his knees, his head bowed in respect.

"How is this possible? We saw you fall…" the one Mithrandir called Aragorn said as he slowly dropped to his knees, shock evident on his face.

"Gandalf!" the dwarf exclaimed as he pulled himself from the forest floor. Nárwyn could see tears of joy in his eyes.

"Yes… Gandalf, that was my name… Gandalf the Grey." Mithrandir smiled at them with a gleam in his eyes. "I am Gandalf the White and I have come back to you now at the crossroads… a great storm is coming. By the grace of Eru I have been granted life again, I have been sent back until my task is done," he said. Mithrandir looked up at the tree, "Nárwyn… you can come down now." Nárwyn reached up and pulled the arrow from the tree; then effortlessly swung down from the branch above and landed next to Mithrandir. She gave them all a wary yet appraising look; she was still not comfortable around strangers.

"Nárwyn… this is Aragorn son of Arathorn," he said as he reached out and clasped Aragorn's shoulder. "This is Prince Legolas son of King Thranduil of the Mirkwood elves." He motioned towards the dwarf. "And this is Gimli son of Glóin. Gentlemen… this is Princess Nárwyn, daughter of King Marcous the Lord of Fangorn and son of Maglor. She will be joining us." Their eyes widened when Mithrandir stated her titles, Nárwyn felt uncomfortable as they stared at her. She hated the title of 'princess', she always attributed it to weak little maidens that hid in palaces. It was a title she has ran from her entire life, it was one she did not want tossed around now.

"I am Watcher Nárwyn," she said as she bowed, she gave Mithrandir a slight glare. "I am pleased to meet you."

"Gandalf, how can this be? There are no elves in Fangorn and Maglor died long ago…" said Aragorn as he cautiously eyed Nárwyn. She could tell he did not believe and saw her as a potential threat.

"There are thousands of elves in Fangorn and have been for over a thousand years. How many are there Nárwyn?" he asked as he stroked his beard.

"The last time my father did a census there were well over seven thousand," she said as she twirled the arrow in her fingers. She walked over to Legolas and handed him the arrow. "I believe this is yours," she said with a smirk. He gave her a confused look and nodded, he placed the arrow back in his quiver.

"How can there be that many elves in Fangorn… surely someone would have said something? They would have been found by now…" Legolas gave her an intense stare that seem to be meant to test her somehow. Nárwyn met his gaze with a look of amusement and arrogance, causing him to divert his eyes.

"Oh Galadriel and Elrond know, they just respected Marcous' wishes and did not interfere with Fangorn. Everyone else has been too fearful to enter the woods so is it really that surprising to learn there are elves living here in secret?" Mithrandir asked.

"We are very good at not being seen, you probably passed at least three Watchers on your way here," Nárwyn said as she looked up. The others looked up as well, they seemed less sure of themselves now.

"Gandalf, where are the hobbits?" asked Gimli, as he pulled his ax from the small cropping of bushes by the center oak tree.

"The hobbits are quite fine. They are guests of King Marcous… I'm sure they are having their fill of food and drink as we speak," he chuckled. "They will be safe there until we send for them."

"We will not be joining them?" asked Aragorn. "We could use a rest as well." Nárwyn was about to argue when Mithrandir raised his hand.

"No Aragorn, we will rest when we get to Edoras. Nárwyn brother will take good care of the hobbits." To those words Nárwyn snorted earning her a glare from the Istari. "We can discuss this more as we travel south." He started walking back towards the river; he stopped and beckoned them to follow.

"We have horses," said Aragorn. "We left them just inside the forest, we cannot leave them."

"I will get them," volunteered Nárwyn. "I can move faster in the forest." She walked over to one of the trees and started climbing. She called back to Mithrandir, "Meet just east of the river in the clearing?" Nárwyn saw him nod, she left quickly not leaving the others time to protest. Nárwyn wanted to give Mithrandir time alone with these new companions, her presence added too many questions. Quickly she ran over the tree limbs, it seemed good to be able to move, Nárwyn now felt that she was making some kind of progress after hours of wandering the forest with Mithrandir. She opened her mind to the trees, searching for the location of the horses; it did not take long to locate them. As she leapt from one branch to the other she thought of the morning when she was running to Éomer's camp site… this was the first time since that fateful morning she had been in the trees. She was going to miss this, her heart felt heavy when she thought about leaving the forest… it was all she has ever known. These trees have been her companions for many years, she knew the cities of men were barren and did not know how she was going to handle that.

The horses were huddled together near the forest edge slowly chewing on some grass that grew near the base of the trees. Nárwyn carefully and quietly lowered herself to the ground away from the horses so she did not startle them. She was gentle in her approach and rested a hand on the first horses neck, she noticed the bridle and the saddle… these were Rohirrim horses. Nárwyn wondered how they were able to obtain these horses… they were prized; the Rohirrim would not part with them lightly. She carefully gathered the reins of both horses and led them out of the forest. Once the reins of the brown horse were securely tied to the saddle of the other horse she climbed up and whispered some commands softly in the horse's ear, she urged the horse forward into a trot as they headed west. Once they reached the open plain she pushed the horses into a gallop towards the rendezvous point, the sun would set soon and they would need to camp for the night. They would still be a day and a half from Edoras and even though Mithrandir had tried to ease her mind she was still full of dread.

The final rays of the sun were spilling over the plains before she reached the river. Nárwyn could see the faint flickers of a campfire a short distance up the river bank; she urged the horses forward mindful of the uneven ground along the bank. When she reached the small party she slid off the horses back and presented the reins to Legolas who was waiting. She sought out Aragorn immediately.

"These horses… where did you get them?" she asked. "They are Rohirrim horses…" Aragorn gave her an odd look.

"Yes they are, they were given to us by one of the Eorlingas to use, he thought his men killed the hobbits by accident when they destroyed the party of Uruk-hai that had taken them," he said. "His name was Éomer; he said he was nephew to Théoden." Nárwyn did not realize she was holding her breath until she released it.

"When?" she asked, not willing to hope.

"Three days ago my Lady," Aragorn watched as relief filled her features. "Do you know this man?" Nárwyn did not answer instead she looked at Mithrandir who smiled back at her. Her fear that the message had come too late was abated. Ren must have made the trip in less than a day.

"I told you we had time my dear, we will get to Éomer in plenty of time," Mithrandir said. Nárwyn nodded, she was overwhelmed with emotions, relief, joy and worry, they were about to overcome her carefully crafted mask of calm.

"Excuse me," she said to no one in particular and retreated into the forest. She did not want to show weakness to them, she found a tall oak and climbed to the top. Her nerves have been rubbed raw; all of the worry and fear have eroded her composure. She found a comfortable branch on which to sit, there she quietly let the emotions run their course as tears streamed down her cheeks. Never before has she felt so vulnerable, her control over her emotions was ebbing away. Her once strong persona was being replaced by a frayed husk of uncontrolled emotions and fears. Nárwyn did not know how any of this was going to improve once she arrived at Edoras… seeing Éomer would probably make it worse. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her cloak tight around her and watched the sun set over the forest, she hoped wasn't the last time.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Aragorn watch the elf maiden disappear into the forest, he looked at Mithrandir questioningly. Mithrandir waved him over to sit next to him on the rocks near the river.

"It is difficult for her… the man who gave you the horses, Éomer… he is her bonded," Mithrandir explained. Aragorn's eyes widened as he unconsciously he reached for the jewel around his neck. Mithrandir saw the gesture and smiled. "It is similar to the bond you have Arwen but not entirely by choice."

"How is that possible?" asked Aragorn.

"He was dying; she called to Eru to save him and offered her life in exchange. Eru had other plans; they are now bound in life and death. We received word this morning that Éomer was arrested for treason and to be executed. She did not know how old the message was or if we would reach Edoras in time. That is why she is here… to save him and take her place at his side. Éomer is Théoden heir, he will need to lead Rohan against Sauron, I fear Saruman has had control over Théoden's mind too long." Mithrandir pulled out his pipe and started packing it with Pipe-weed. "Keep this too yourself… I tell you this now for I feel I will need your help with this. I do not fully understand the nature of elven bonds or ways of the heart."

"I fear I am not the right person for this task," Aragorn gave Mithrandir a pained look. "Before we left Rivendell I asked her to go to the Undying Lands with her father… we did not part well," he said sadly.

"Arwen will not go, an argument will not break the promise made at Cerin Amroth," chastised Mithrandir.

"I do not wish her to die Gandalf, that is all I can truly give her in the end… death," Aragorn said bitterly. "What advice can I give Lady Nárwyn when I feel distress over my own path?" Mithrandir took a few puffs from his pipe as he studied Aragorn.

"The fact you are in turmoil would be more helpful than if you were not... Your words will not be covered by illusions of wistful happiness but pragmatic truth. I do not know what lies ahead for her in Edoras. I have known Nárwyn since she was a child; she is one of the best I have ever seen with a bow or blades but in matters of the heart… she is lacking. Her father and brothers are partly to blame, they sheltered her; never let her venture too far from their gaze. She is alone now, bonded to a man she hardly knows, forced to leave her home and enter the world of men to fight a war against the greatest evil this land has ever known." Mithrandir sighed, "Too much is asked of her… "

"Éomer did not appear to be anything but an honorable man Gandalf. His men are loyal to him and his causes are noble, I cannot see him purposely harming her gentle heart. I fear the fault of his imprisonment lies with me. It was I who told him of the One Ring and the Fellowship, he pledged to aid our cause. The agents of Saruman in Edoras must have found out and created these falsehoods to stop him," said Aragorn sadly.

"We will ride out at dawn, we should reach Edoras in the late morning of the second day. When we get there I will need to deal Théoden… do not expect a warm welcome. Watch Nárwyn… I have no idea how she is going to react to the people that have harmed Éomer. She is like a bow that has been strung too tight, I fear her visage of calm is a façade, eventually she will break," said Mithrandir. Aragorn nodded and started rummaging through his pack for some lembas bread and dried meat. Legolas and Gimli who have been tending the horses approached the two men sitting near the river.

"Where is the Lady Nárwyn?" asked Legolas as he looked around the area. Aragorn handed them each their share of the bread and meat.

"She is in the forest, she will be back in the morning," commented Mithrandir as he slowly drew a puff from his pipe. Legolas' eyes scanned the tree line, searching for a trace of the elf maiden.

"Perhaps I should go look for her…" Legolas said as he look at the trees.

"Leave the lass be… this is her home she knows it better than you," muttered Gimli as he ate his ration. Legolas gave the dwarf a hard stare and started to walk towards the forest.

"Hold Legolas. Gimli is right, Nárwyn does not need company right now. As I said on the walk here, this will be the first time she is leaving her realm, this is not easy on her," said Mithrandir.

"Then better she speaks to another of her kind who has left their realm as well," protested Legolas. Aragorn and Mithrandir exchanged confused looks.

"She's the horse-masters lad, leave her be," said Gimli. He glanced up at the astonished looks of his companions. "What? Dwarves have exceptional hearing when there is something worth listening to." Legolas sat down quietly next to Mithrandir, he looked distressed.

"I'm sorry… I did not know," he said quietly. Gimli snorted at the dismayed elf and brought out his pipe.

"It is true," Mithrandir confirmed. "They are bonded… which is why we need to get to Edoras as soon as possible. We should finish eating and get some rest, daybreak will be here before we know it"

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It was early morning, the sun had not yet risen when Nárwyn returned to the camp. Legolas was keeping watch near the river, Nárwyn knelt down by the dying fire and added a few more branches causing the fire to snap and brighten back to life. She retrieved a small copper pot and the small metal stand to position it over the fire. Nárwyn proceeded to gather pouches of rolled oats, nuts and spices from her bag. She was halfway through preparing breakfast before Legolas approached her.

"My Lady," he said with a slight bow. Nárwyn nodded at him and added her canteen of water into the pot before placing it on the stand over the fire. She pulled another bag of dried fruit from her bag and tossed a handful into the pot. Legolas sat down on the ground across the fire from the busy maiden. It upset him to know such a rare beauty was bound to a mortal, too soon she will fade. He watched her intently as she carefully measured out spices and added them to the pot.

"I can assure you my Lord Legolas that I will not sprout a third eye anytime soon," she said as she gave him a level stare before returning her attention back to the meal. Legolas looked away in embarrassment.

"I apologize my Lady," he said sheepishly, relieved to see that Mithrandir was waking up. The old wizard sat up, he looked around confused until his eyes focused on the pot above the fire.

"Ah my dear child what is that delightful scent?" he inquired as he took a seat near the fire.

"Breakfast," she said with a smile as she placed a second pot in the fire for tea. "A little something to sustain us until mid-day, maybe more." Nárwyn stirred the oat mixture as the Gimli and Aragorn found their way to the fire with the rest of the companions.

"We should have picked up the lass after we left Rivendell," commented Gimli as he waited anxiously for the bubbling food to be ready. Nárwyn smirked and poured each a cup of the tea.

"Lháewnis my teacher, made sure every Watcher had the ability to cook, perform basic healing and forage for herbs and food." She looked at Legolas, "I am surprised that other realms did not enforce these skills."

"Our roles in Mirkwood are more specialized my Lady, we rarely travel alone there… it is not possible with the Giant Spiders. Your role as a Watcher sounds similar to a Warden in the realm of Lorien." Said Legolas. Nárwyn nodded and started to spoon the oat mixture into bowls, sprinkling some herbs on top before handing the bowls out. They greedily dug into their bowls of oat, complimenting her on the flavor as they savored each bite. Nárwyn felt a bit embarrassed over the attention but knew that aside from Mithrandir the others had not had a hot meal in days. Legolas and she were having a friendly conversation over the differences between their realms while the others had second helpings of the oats.

"My father often talked about the Lorien elves… it would seem those were the elves he was most familiar with," Nárwyn said as she stirred the contents of her bowl. "Mithrandir, you have been to all four elven realms… which realm is Fangorn most similar?" Mithrandir stroked his beard as he pondered the question.

"It would be Lorien," he said after a few moments. "But the Fangorn elves are much more warlike than the Lorien elves, I would imagine it is because of the mines that this is the case."

"Mines?" Gimli asked.

"Yes Gimli, the Fangorn elves extensively mine the southern Misty Mountains. These mines can be as treacherous as what we saw in Moria," said Mithrandir. The group grew silent for a while, wounds of Moria were still fresh among those that were there.

"My Lady, did you work in these mines?" asked Aragorn, he was intrigued about the Fangorn elves considering how much of his life he had spent living among the other realms.

"Yes, for nearly two hundred years… there are creatures there that are worse than any orc could ever dream of being," she said with a shudder, haunting memories from centuries ago filled her mind.

"A Balrog?" asked Legolas, he couldn't imagine fighting anything like that.

"We've encountered two of those, the last one I assisted in the fight… it nearly killed me. After that my father put me in charge of the Watchers. There are other creatures there… demons… lesser than a Balrog but very cunning and very dangerous. Those are the creatures the Sentries of the mines must battle every day."

"Why bother with the mines if they are so dangerous?" asked Aragorn, he couldn't believe anyone would willingly enter them knowing Balrogs could be there. Nárwyn smiled and pulled up the arm of her dark green shirt, underneath there was a sleeve of the finest golden mithril ever seen. Gimli whistled and moved closer to get a better look.

"I have no words to describe what I am seeing… it is finer than any mithril I have seen that a dwarf has made," said Gimli in awe as he examined the sleeve closer.

"Why is it gold?" asked Legolas as he looked over Gimli's shoulder at the armor.

"My father found that mixing in gold made it even stronger, we have been using it for centuries," she said. "If you would like… once all of this is over with, you can come and visit the mines. I'm sure my father and brother would like to know what the dwarves think of our progress." Gimli just stared at her for a moment, he could not believe elves would extend such a courtesy.

"Lass… this dwarf would be honored," he said humbly.

Nárwyn smiled and started to clean up, she looked to the east and could see the early rays of the sun starting to seep from the horizon, almost time to leave, she thought. Nárwyn was starting to feel more comfortable with her new companions, she could tell Mithrandir trusted them completely… she had no reason not to as well. During the night she had found some peace with her situation, her emotions were still jumbled and her heart was confused but she knew what she needed to do. It was through that resolve of purpose that she found balance. She would free Éomer, that was her purpose… she would only focus on that right now. The matter of the bonding and what it meant would have to wait.

The camp was packed and the two horses were ready. Nárwyn looked at Mithrandir and back at the horses, too many riders she thought.

"Shall I start my run now?" she asked. Although she was not as fast as a horse she could run behind them, she did not require sleep and could run through the night to catch up.

"No of course not! You will ride with Aragorn, I shall be but a moment," said Mithrandir as he walked away from the confines of the forest. He stopped a few paces out and turned to the east and whistled loudly. Nárwyn and her companions just looked at each other and shrugged, as Mithrandir whistled again. After the third whistle Nárwyn thought she heard the faint sound of hooves. She looked at Legolas to see if he heard the same thing, he nodded. A few moments more there was no denying it, there was a horse coming. They walked up to stand beside Mithrandir as the horse neared. It was a brilliant white stallion that was approaching, Nárwyn looked on in awe at the beautiful creature.

"One of the Mearas…" murmured Legolas as the horse finally reached Mithrandir.

"Yes he is… he is their chief," responded Mithrandir. "His name is Shadowfax, he has been my friend for many years," he said affectionately as he scratched the horse's nose. "Let us mount up… Edoras awaits!"

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

It was late in the morning on the second day of the ride to Edoras, Nárwyn was riding behind Aragon listening to him tell her a story about growing up in Rivendell. In the past day she had learned many things about the soft spoken ranger of the north. She was not terribly surprised when he told her of his true heritage, the way his voice carries commands and the way others responded to him hinted he was no mere ranger. Even though she was getting more anxious the closer they came to Edoras, talking to Aragon has help calm her.

"When did you meet Arwen?" she asked. "Was she there when you were a child?"

"Oh no, she was at her grandmothers for eighteen years. I did not meet her until I was twenty… I doubt she would have given me a chance if she knew me as a child… it would have been hard to reconcile the child from the man," he said thoughtfully. "I was a foolish young man… I had no idea what I was asking of her… I wanted her love more than anything, I never thought of what that truly meant," he said wistfully. Nárwyn frowned, she did not expect him to regret his bond.

"You wish you never bonded?" she asked.

"Lady Arwen and I are not bonded in the sense you are with Éomer… if I die by the sword tomorrow, her life will not be forfeit, she has a chance to continue on… to go to the Undying Lands, but she refuses to do so. If by some wild hope we are successful and all of our dreams come true and we can have a family, when I die of old age… she will die as well. I love her too much to wish that fate upon her… yet time and time again she has chosen it," he said sadly.

"But that is her choice is it not?" Nárwyn said. "My impulsive behavior and the Fates have left Éomer and myself with no choices."

"Let me ask you then my lady which is easier? Having no choice and learning to accept and live with that or knowing what will happen and still choosing the same path?" Aragorn's words humbled her, maybe in the end… having no choice was the better option.

"You give me much to think on Lord Aragorn," she said. "I grow more apprehensive the closer we come to Edoras," she admitted. "No matter how much I go over things in my mind, I still have no idea what I am going to say to him."

"It will not be an easy discussion for either of you," commented Aragorn. "But, I optimistic that you two will come to an understanding."

"I wish I shared your confidence..." she muttered.

"You worry too much," chided Aragorn. "Éomer is an honorable man… your fear is misplaced." They cleared a fair sized hill revealing Edoras in the distance. "Look my lady, there lies Edoras!" Nárwyn peered around Aragorn to view the capital city of Rohan, she felt her heart speed up and her stomach tie into knots. She closed her eyes and drew a few leveled breaths.

"Let us make haste then, maybe I can find some peace soon."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Nárwyn kept her cloak up as she followed her companions up the winding dirt path to Golden Hall. Before they approached the gates, Mithrandir suggested that Nárwyn hide her armor and weapons to avoid problems in the city. It was not customary for a woman to bear arms and it would have drawn unwelcomed attention to them. Through the clever use of a spare cloak, Nárwyn managed to cover her gear including her bow to look as nothing more than a woman dressed to avoid the early spring chill.

The city was nearly barren of people, only a few ventured out and those that did met them with suspicious stares and frowns. It bothered her to see these people in such a state of fear, she wondered how long it had been this way. There were a few men posted around, few of them were Rohirrim. Her eyes narrowed as she watched the men, they were not men of Rohan; they were Dunlendings. The dirt and matted hair were gone but she could still see it… the evil these puppets of Saruman possessed seemed to bleed from their very being. No wonder the people were scared with these beasts running the city. Where are Éomer's men? She had hoped they would be able to help her free him. It didn't matter she told herself… they were Dunlending scum. She killed them before and she would do it again. Nárwyn followed close behind Legolas as she started counting her targets.

They reached a set of steps that were etched into the hillside leading up to Meduseld. Mithrandir reached over and grabbed ahold of Legolas' arm and hooked his arm around Aragorn's as well, he pretended he needed their support to climb the stairs. Nárwyn smirked at his ruse, she knew better than to underestimate the Istari. She fell in line with Gimli as Mithrandir slowly and carefully climbed the stairs. Near the top of the stairs Nárwyn scanned the men at the entrance… the familiar green cloaks put her mind somewhat at ease. Here were some of Éomer's men… she scanned their faces until she saw one she recognized… Gamling. He was standing to the right of another large rider near the door, his face was grave as he stood there waiting for them. Mithrandir slowly crested the last step and shuffled over to the guards using his staff for support, his back hunched over and head bowed. If Nárwyn did not see through the illusion she would have thought him a feeble old man, harmless and docile.

"State your business here old man," commanded the guard next to Gamling.

"I am sorry my Lord, my name is Greyhame, I am here to see the King… I have urgent news for him," said Mithrandir in a higher pitched voice.

"Give me the message… I will give it to him," said the guard in an irritated tone.

"My apologies my Lord, my master said the message is for the King only," he said as he bowed his head to the guard. The guard looked at the others, his eyes narrowing when they fell on Legolas.

"Strange company you keep old man," the guard said suspiciously. Mithrandir gave him a shocked look.

"My master only hires the best mercenaries to protect my granddaughter and I go on these trips," he said. The guard grunted and waved Gamling over.

"Take their weapons, they cannot go before the King so heavily armed. Gamling nodded as he approached Aragorn. Aragorn exchanged a look with Mithrandir before finally surrendering his weapons to Gamling. Gimli and Legolas followed suit and handed over their weapons. Nárwyn reached into her pouch at her waist and pulled out a small dagger she used to harvest herbs with. Gamling slowly approached her.

"My Lady, do you have any weapons to surrender?" he asked politely.

"Just one… my small dagger." She slowly placed it into his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. He looked up at her and she reached her other hand up and slightly adjusted her cloak so he could see her face. Gamling looked shocked for a moment, it was quickly replaced by relief. She winked at him and gave him a gentle smile. He nodded and stepped back behind the other guard. Mithrandir nodded and started to walk toward the doors.

"I'm going to need your staff," said the guard.

"You are going to part an old man from his walking stick?" Mithrandir asked incredulously.

"Háma… he is just and old man. I have collected the rest of the weapons, let him have his stick," said Gamling.

"Grima ordered…" Háma started to say but Gamling cut him off.

"Grima says lots of things, unless you intend for us to carry him in?" Gamling asked, his voice carrying a note of exasperation. Háma sighed and shook his head.

"I suppose you are right," he looked at Mithrandir. "Go ahead old man." He waved them through. Mithrandir nodded and proceeded to slowly hobble to the door with Legolas and Aragorn at his side. Nárwyn followed behind staying near Gamling as they entered the large open hall. She quickly noticed the several Dunlending in the shadows along the side walls. The large doors to the hall clanged shut in the background, and the Dunlending closed in behind them. Nárwyn watched as Mithrandir's feeble old man illusion started to fade as he walked down the center of the hall towards the elevated throne where the King of Rohan sat. The King was slouched over in the throne as if sleeping, his clothing was rumpled and stained and his beard and hair were matted and unkempt. Nárwyn looked on in disgust at this man whose weakness had led to this. Next to the King was a man so vile that all of Nárwyn's senses were repelled when her eyes fell on him. His strands of greasy black hair fell across his face as he leaned in close to the king, whispering and petting his arm as if the hollow King was his pet.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late Théoden son of Thengel," said Mithrandir, his voice losing the hollowness he presented to the guards, the commanding tone now returning to his voice. The horrid man seated next to the King leaned over again and whispered into his ear.

"Why should I welcome you Gandalf the Grey?" responded the hunched over King, barely lifting his head to acknowledge Mithrandir. The man patted Théoden's hand as if he was a child that needed encouragement.

"A just question my Lord," he said as he stroked the King's arm. "Late is the hour in which this meddling conjurer chooses to appear." The man left the Kings side and approached Mithrandir. "At the command of the Sorceress of the Golden Wood no doubt, here to bend my Lord to her will. It is as the traitor Éomer confessed… "

"Be silent!" commanded Mithrandir as he glared at Grima. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth worm! I have not passed through fire and death to trade words with Saruman's puppet." He thrust the staff out in front of him at Grima.

"His staff!" Grima shrieked in terror. "I told you to take his staff!" He started to run towards the back of the hall. Nárwyn had been watching the exchange waiting for a chance to strike and now took it. She flung the extra cloak to the floor revealing her weapons and armor. The room erupted in chaos as the Dunlending attacked, Aragorn and Legolas charged the men as they approached Mithrandir who was slowly nearing the throne. Nárwyn drew her swords and quickly dispatched the Dunlending that were blocking her path to Grima. It was a matter of seconds before she was on the man, slamming him into the wall with her blade at his throat.

"Where is he?!" she yelled, her blade slowly cutting into his throat. Grima stared at her, his eyes wide with fear. "Where is Éomer?" she said as she pulled back her blade and grabbed him by the hair and dragged him to the ground, smashing his head into the cold stone floor. "Where is he?! Tell me now and I will hasten your death… tell me not and you will learn what it feels like to be separated from your skin. Now where is he?" she growled through clenched teeth. Grima started stuttering, his whole body shook with fear.

"My Lady!" Gamling called as he ran towards her. "I know where he is… this way." He said as he grabbed her elbow to pull her along. Gimli approached her after seeing her pull her sword back to end Grima's life.

"I've got him lass, he might have something useful still to say. Go… find your Horse-master," he said as he kicked Grima in the ribs when the man tried to crawl away. "I would stay still if I were you," he threatened as he stepped on his chest. Nárwyn nodded and raced behind Gamling as they ran for the main doors. Behind her, she could hear Mithrandir calling to the King.

"Théoden son of Thengel! You will hearken me… too long have you sat in the shadows, too long have you let Saruman burrow into your mind." Mithrandir started to glow a bright white light. "Come Théoden… leave the darkness and join the light."

There were two riders at the doors waiting for them as Nárwyn and Gamling worked their way through the crowd that had formed. One was Hérmod, she recalled and the other was a young man she did not know.

"You remember Hérmod, this is Eothain," said Gamling as they reached the men. "They will help us free Lord Éomer."

"Where is he?" asked Nárwyn as they rushed out the doors and down the front steps of Meduseld. She untied her bow and quiver from her back where they were hidden under her cloak as they ran.

"They are keeping him in one of the old storage houses, none of us have been able to get in to see him. It is surrounded by Grima's men, we hope that he is still alive," Hérmod said sadly. "I hope all of this is not in vain."

"He is still alive, I can assure you of that," said Nárwyn.

"How can you know my Lady," asked the young Eothain.

"Because I am not dead… how much farther?" she asked impatiently.

"A few houses away, we need to be careful so those guarding do not suspect anything and harm him. That house is one of the few with a large cellar, they probably have him in there," said Gamling. Nárwyn looked at the houses they were approaching. They were close together with solid thatched roofs with support beams visible through raise of the thatch. She swung her bow around her shoulder and jumped onto a wooden crate next to the house before her.

"I will take care of any guards outside the building, you follow when they are down," she said as she climbed up the wooden siding of the house and pulled herself onto the roof. Nárwyn carefully crossed the first roof and leapt to the next. Once she was on the third houses' roof she could see the one that Gamling talked about. There were two men posted on each side of the door, they were as the others in Meduseld… Dunlending filth. She drew back her bow and sent an arrow to the man on the far side of the door, piercing his throat. Her second arrow was already in flight before the man on the other side of the door realized what had happened to his comrade, it struck just below his ear on the left side dropping him to the ground. Nárwyn quickly jumped down from the roof and charged the door with the riders following close behind her. She flung the door open startling the men that sat at a table inside, arrows were already in flight as they worked to stand from their chairs. Other men appeared from a room in the back, the riders quickly engaged them.

"The door on the left leads to the cellar," called Hérmod as he fought one of the men. Nárwyn nodded and pulled open the door… it led to darkness. She swung her bow over her shoulder and grabbed the small lantern off the table and drew her sword, she started down the stairs leaving Gamling and the others to finish off Grima's men. An awareness started to creep into her mind, she knew he was close… she could feel it. The stairs abruptly ended to a dirt floor, the smell of mildew and rot were overwhelming. She held the lantern high to illuminate the room, it was a vast hole that had been hollowed out in the earth, the rough walls still bearing groves of the picks and shovels that carved them. Her eyes fell on a figure that looked to be kneeling on the ground on the far end of the room.

"Éomer?" she called but there was no response. Her heart filled with dread as she slowly approached the shadowy figure, she saw what looked like a rope hanging from a beam in the ceiling, the closer she came more of the horrible picture came to light. There knelt Éomer in the dirt, he was bent over, his arms bound to a chain that ran to the ceiling, it was the only thing supporting him. His head hung low, she could not see his face, his golden hair was brown and red with blood, and it clung to his face.

"Éomer!" she cried as she ran to him, dropping to her knees and sliding to him. Nárwyn sat the lantern to the side and reached for him, her hand cupping his chin as her other tried to push him up. His face was a bloodied mess, they had severely beaten him… both of his eyes were swollen shut. A sob reached her throat as she lowered his chin and wrapped her arms around him, using all of her strength to try to make him to sit up so she could unhook his wrists from their bindings. When her hands touched his back she jerked them away, they were covered in blood. She grabbed the lantern and crawled behind him…his back was covered in gashes from a whip. Nárwyn screamed in fury as she stood and looked around the room for anything that could help her get him off the chain. She rushed around the chamber, overturning chairs and tables looking for anything that would help.

"My Lady!" called Gamling, she heard him and others coming down the stairs. Nárwyn went back to Éomer and knelt down beside him, she wrapped her arms around his chest and leaned into him, using her body to take the strain off his arms. She didn't even feel the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"Help me!" she sobbed. The riders rushed forward, their torches bringing more light with them. Their audible gasps of shock and dismay at the condition of their commander filled the room. "Help me get him off the chain!" she yelled at them. Gamling ran her side, his shaky hands holding some keys he had found.

"I found these on one of the men upstairs, Hérmod, help Eothain hold him up so I can try them on the manacles." The men flanked Éomer, they grabbed under his arms and pulled him up, his legs would not support him but they managed to raise him high enough for Gamling to start working on the lock. Nárwyn stood in front with her arms wrapped around his chest, his head resting on her shoulder, she used what strength she had left to support him. It took several minutes before Gamling managed to find the key that would unlock the manacles. With a loud click the key did its job and the manacles released Éomer raw bloodied wrists. Nárwyn pulled back and unhooked her cloak and laid it out on the ground.

"Lay him here, careful of his back," she warned. Eothain and Hérmod carried him to the cloak and gently laid him down on the soft fabric. Nárwyn quickly dropped to her knees and began examining him, she pulled her bag from her shoulder and retrieved two small bottles of nên nestadren. With the help of Gamling she managed to pour the contents of one down Éomer's throat, the other she used to drizzle on some of the worst wounds. So preoccupied with treating his wounds the eerie green glow coming from Caennin on her finger went unnoticed in the torch light.

"Find a litter! We need to get him out of here," ordered Gamling, Eothain quickly ran up the stairs. Nárwyn had finished applying the nên nestadren, and was relieved to see that his breathing was a little stronger. There was nothing more she could do down here in this dank cellar, he needed to be cleaned so she could properly treat his wounds. She was worried that there would be permanent damage… that he would not wake up or not wake up complete. Lháewnis had told her of men she had treated in the war that had woken after losing too much blood or a severe blow to the head with minds of a child… they never recovered themselves. Nárwyn could not bear to see that happen to Éomer, she hoped they were not too late. All she could do now was wait and hope Eothain found a litter quickly. Nárwyn reached down and wove her fingers in his and brought his hand up to her cheek and closed her eyes.

"Éomer… lasta na nin," she said softly as she pressed his hand to her face. "Tol ad, nin hûn… avo bad." She brought his knuckles to her lips and gently kissed them. She watched him closely but there was no change, she tried to not feel despair that her words did not reach him. Nárwyn clutched his hand to her chest and waited for Eothain to return. She did not have to wait long before the sound of several men could be heard coming down the stairs. Nárwyn felt a hand on her shoulder.

"My Lady, let us get him out of here," said Hérmod gently. Nárwyn nodded and reluctantly lowered Éomer's hand back to his side and stood up. Eothain and two other riders carefully lifted Éomer on to the litter and covered him with Nárwyn's cloak. They slowly lifted him off the ground and headed towards the stairs.

"It will be cold outside…" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Gamling nodded and removed his cloak and laid it over Éomer, Hérmod did the same. Nárwyn followed behind them, she felt so tired suddenly, not even the sunlight coming in through the opened door helped. Everything became a blur, one moment they were in the cellar, the next they were climbing the steps of Meduseld. Hérmod had stayed close to her, he was talking to her but she did not hear the words, her eyes were focused on the only thing that mattered to her at the moment… Éomer. When they entered the Golden Hall several people came rushing to meet them, she tore her eyes away from Éomer to see Mithrandir and Aragorn across the room, their eyes full of concern as they started to make their way through the crowd. Nárwyn's eyes scanned the other faces… Gimli… Legolas… the King, they were all quickly approaching… all save one. Standing near the dais to the throne was Grima… not in chains, not guarded or otherwise restrained…

A cold rage began to fill Nárwyn, she started to push her way through the crowd, there was only one thought on her mind. Her hand slowly reached back to a dagger she had hidden in her armor. She pushed those who stood between her and her prey out of the way until she stood directly before the worm. There was a look of smugness in his eyes as if he thought she couldn't hurt him as if he was somehow protected from her wrath. So fast were her movements that Grima did not realize what had happened until it was done and he looked down to see bloodied dagger in her hand. He fell to his knees holding his stomach then collapsed on his side, the smugness was gone… only desperate fear remained in his eyes. Nárwyn regarded him with cold distant eyes as she bent to wipe the blood off of her dagger on his cloak. It would not be a quick death, he will linger until he bleeds out… there was no healer that could repair what she had done. She sheathed her dagger and started walking back to Éomer, no one stopped her, their faces were downcast… afraid to meet the eyes of the woman that just mortally wounded a man the King had pardoned only moments before. Hérmod nodded at her when she reached the litter and they proceeded to healer's rooms. Nárwyn could hear Grima's cries for help as she left the hall and felt satisfaction when they continued becoming more desperate and weaker before finally they stopped.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Elvish Translation:

nên nestadren - water of healing

"Éomer… lasta na nin," – Éomer… listen to me

"Tol ad, nin hûn… avo bad." – Come back, my heart… don't go.