((Here's another new chapter. Thanks for the reviews!))

((I don't own Harry Potter or the Lord of the Rings))

Theoden picked one of the white flowers from the grass at his feet.

"Simbelmynë." he said. "Ever has it covered the tombs of my forebearers... But now, it will never grow on the grave of my son. He is gone."

Harry stood a bit behind Gandalf, not quite sure what to do. After he had gotten over the shock that the Wizard was still alive and that the Fellowship, minus the Hobbits, was there, he had been forced to tell Theoden that he had banished his son and his nephew.

"Theodred didn't blame you, sir." he said. "He understood that Saruman was controlling you."

Theoden offered him a sad smile. "I suppose I own you a great deal. Eowyn tells me that you saved Theodred's life and fought alongside him to keep the Ford of the Isen out of enemy hands. The Kingdom is in your debt."

Harry blushed. "It was nothing, sir."

He suddenly noticed that Theoden was gazing past him. He turned. Riding towards them was an extremely tired-looking horse. Two very small shapes sat atop it, and as they watched, one of them tumbled out of the saddle and fell to the ground.

All three ran to them as fast as they could.

Harry checked the boy's pulse when he reached him. "He's alive, but I think he's dehydrated. We need to get him inside."

Gandalf nodded. "I will take him on the horse. Harry, would you and King Theoden take the girl?"

Harry nodded and helped the sobbing little girl down.

"What is your name?" he asked her as Gandalf set the boy in the saddle.

"F-Freda." she said.

"Freda, your brother is going to be alright."

"Eothain." she said.

"What-"

"His name is Eothain. Our horsey's named Errol."

Harry smiled at her. "I know an owl named Errol, but he's nowhere near as fine a beast as your horse. Actually, he's a bit of a menace, really."

Freda giggled. Theoden scooped the girl up in his arms with surprising gentleness and they made their way back to the Golden Hall.

Eothain was already awake and ravenously devouring a bowl of stew when they entered. Theoden sat Freda down beside him and Eowyn gave her a bowl of stew as well.

Eothain had informed them of the attack by the men of Dunland on their village.

Theoden now sat on his throne with his head bowed. Some of the years had seemed to return to him in the past few hours.

"They had no warning." said Eowyn. "Now the Wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go; rick, cot and tree."

"Where is mama?" Freda asked. Eowyn shushed her.

Gandalf sighed. "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash. All the more potent, for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head-on! Draw him away from your women and children."

"You have two-thousand good men riding north as we speak." said Aragorn.

"Yeah." agreed Harry. "Theodred and Eomer are still loyal to you. They'll return in a heartbeat."

"They will be three-hundred leagues from here by now." said Theoden angrily. Harry could tell that the anger was directed at himself, not anyone else. "Theodred and Eomer cannot help us."

"Send me!" said Boromir. "I will ride to my city and rally support. My father still honors the old alliances."

"If that were so," said Theoden. "Then where is he? Where have your soldiers been while Saruman has attacked us for the past three months?"

Boromir bristled with anger, but Legolas placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

Gandalf stood and started to speak but Theoden cut him off. "I know what it is you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war," said Aragorn pointedly, "is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

Theoden glared at him. "When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn was King of Rohan."

"Oh and a bloody fine job you're doing of it too." sneered Draco sarcastically. Gandalf shot him a warning look, which he deliberately ignored. "First you swallow that rubbish Saruman and Wormtongue feed you, then you banish thousands of loyal soldiers and now, you won't even go out fight your enemy."

"Silence, impudent child!" thundered Theoden, causing everyone in the room to jump. "I am King of Rohan! Not you, not anyone else! I decide what is best for my people!"

"Then what is the King's decision?" asked Gandalf.

Theoden sat back down on his throne and thought for a few moments. "Helm's Deep." he said finally. "Ever has it been our refuge in times of desperation and no enemy has ever taken it. There are caves where thousands can stay comfortably if need be. That is my FINAL word." he added, glaring at Draco and Aragorn."

"By order of the King, the city must empty!" announced Hama a few hours later. "We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep! Do not burden yourselves with treasures. Take only what provisions you need!"

"He is the world's biggest git!" yelled Draco as the Fellowship made their way to the stables.

"He is only doing what is best for his people." said Aragorn. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

"No, I am afraid Draco is right." said Gandalf. "There is no way out of that ravine. Theoden is walking headlong into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Theoden has a strong will. Too strong, in fact. I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. Their defenses have to hold."

Aragorn nodded. "They will hold."

Gandalf turned to Shadowfax. "The Grey Pilgrim. That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men have walked this earth and now, I have no time." He sighed heavily and leapt onto the horse's back. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming. At first light of the fifth day at dawn, look to the East."

"Good luck, Gandalf." said Harry.

The Wizard nodded. "You as well, Mr. Potter."

He spurred the Shadowfax and disappeared out the stable door.

"Well, glad he didn't put us under any pressure or anything." said Draco dryly.

Saruman paced the main chamber of Orthanc, wringing his hands. He was anxious. He was more than anxious.

"Gandalf the White." he muttered. "Gandalf the fool! Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?"

"There were six who followed the wizard." said a voice from behind him. Grima Wormtongue entered the hall, dabbing at an open wound on his mouth with a dirty handkerchief. "An Elf, a Dwarf and four men."

Saruman sniffed. "You stink of horse." he said as a greeting. Wormtongue turned to leave. "The men..." said Saruman, stopping him. "Were they from Gondor?"

Wormtongue shook his head. "No, only one. Boromir, son of the Steward I believe he was. Two were but boys, no more than sixteen. One with light hair and the other with dark. Strong magic they possessed. Perhaps disciples of Gandalf." Saruman growled under his breath. So, his Uruks had no only failed to bring him the Potter brat, but they had also failed to kill Malfoy.

"The last was from the North." said Wormtongue. "One of the Dunedain Rangers, I thought he was. His cloth was poor...And yet...He bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring the other, crowned with golden flowers."

Saruman froze. He knew that Ring. He stormed into his study and ripped a book off the shelf. He flicked through the pages until he found it. "The Ring of Barahir...So, Gandalf Greyhame thinks he has found Isildur's Heir, the lost King of Gondor? He is a fool! It matters not. The World of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras."

"Theoden will not stay at Edoras." said Wormtongue. "It's vulnerable. He knows this. He will expect an attack on the city. He will flee to Helm's Deep, the great fortress of Rohan. It is a dangerous road to take through the mountains. They will be slow. They will have women and children with them."

Saruman's eyebrows went up. He stood and beckoned Wormtongue to follow him. They went down to one of the deepest caverns. There, they found an Orc who looked as if he had been used as a chew-toy standing over a deep pit. And based on what was in the pit, this wasn't entirely unlikely.

"Send out your Warg Riders!" ordered Saruman.

The Orc grinned wickedly.

The caravan from Edoras slowly wound its way through the mountains. This part of the journey was actually somewhat enjoyable. They moved at a nice, slow pace, stopping for rest often.

At the moment, Gimli was regaling them with a bit of lore about Dwarves.

"It's true you don't see many Dwarf women." he said. "And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, haha that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men."

Eowyn and Harry glanced back at Aragorn for clarification.

"It's the beards." he mouthed. They had to fight to keep from laughing.

Gimli continued. "And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women! And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

Eowyn couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing.

Fortunately, Gimli joined her. "Hehehe! Which is of course ridiculous…Aaaaahhh!"

Hasufel had suddenly reared and galloped ahead, throwing Gimli to the ground with a loud thud.

Eowyn laughed and ran up to help him up.

"It's alright!" said Gimli quickly. "Nobody panic! That was deliberate! It was deliberate!"

Theoden smiled. "I've not seen my niece smile for a long time. She was just a girl when they brought her father back dead. Cut down by Orcs. She watched her mother succumb to grief. Then she was left alone, to tend her king in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man, who should have loved her as a father."

Harry sighed. The old man had the astounding ability to bring down any good mood.

Later, as they rested, Harry and Draco were looking for Aragorn, when came upon he and Eowyn and talking.

"My uncle told me a strange thing." she was saying. "He staid that you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."

Aragorn nodded. "King Théoden has a good memory. He was only a small child at the time."

She kneeled by him with an awed expression. "Then you must be at least sixty!"

Aragorn's face turned slightly red and he shook his head.

"Seventy?" she guessed. "You cannot be eighty!"

Aragorn sighed. "Eighty-Seven."

Harry and Draco gave each other astonished looks. Not only was Aragorn a King. He was nearly ninety years old with not a grey hair to show for it.

"You are one of the Dunedain." said Eowyn, guessing the truth. "A descendant of Numenor, blessed with long life. It was said your race had passed into legend..."

"There are few of us left." said Aragorn quietly. "The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago."

"I'm sorry." said Eowyn. "Please, eat!"

Eowyn turned and walked past where they were standing. They did their best to look as if they hadn't been listening. She smiled when she saw them and held up a steaming pot.

"Harry, Draco, are you hungry?"

Harry glanced at Aragorn who was vehemently shaking his head at them.

"Er...Just ate, thanks." said Harry. Draco nodded in agreement.

They walked up to him, where he was pouring out the remnants of a foul-looking stew into the grass.

"So, now you know." he said.

Their faces went red. "Sorry. We came looking for you." said Harry. "We weren't eavesdropping."

Aragorn smiled. "It is alright, my friends. I cannot be angry at your curiosity."

"If I may say so, mate," said Draco, "she has it bad for you."

Harry was about to elbow him in the ribs, but then, he remembered that Draco did not know about Arwen.

Aragorn's smile faded and he stared off at the mountains.

As they walked away, Harry went back to him and whispered, "It's alright. She'll wait for you."

Aragorn nodded, but Harry knew the Ranger didn't believe it, and frankly, neither did he.

Aragorn took out his pipe as the two young Wizards walked away. He chewed absentmindedly on the end, but did not light it. His thoughts were miles and miles away in Rivendell.

He was remembering a time right before he left with the Fellowship.

Aragorn awoke in his bed in Rivendell. He looked out the window and glanced at the moon. It's position told him that it was not even close to dawn. He sighed, also remembering what the next day was.

He quietly slipped out of the bed, careful not to disturb Arwen as she did the Elven equivalent of sleeping.

He slipped down the hall, noting along the way that Harry's room was empty, and went outside.

He took an overgrown path which meandered seemingly aimlessly up into the hills. But he had a very specific aim.

At last, he reached the place. Before him was a statue, depicting a woman holding a child.

On its pedistal was the name Gilraen inscription, Onen i-Estel Edain, ú-chebin estel anim. (I gave Hope to the Dúnedain, I have kept no hope for myself.)

He saw that in his absence, his mother's grave had been neglected and was rather overgrown. He spent several minutes clearing off the debris. As he did, a familiar voice spoke behind him.

"Anirne hene beriad i chên în. Ned Imladris nauthant e le beriathar aen." (She wanted to protect her child. She thought that in Rivendell you would be safe.)

Elrond stepped up beside his foster son. "In her heart, your mother knew you'd be hunted all your life. That you'd never escape your fate. The skill of the Elves can reforge the sword of Kings, but only you have the power to wield it."

Aragorn did not look at him, but instead continued clearing off the grave. "I do not want that power." he said. "I have never wanted it."

"You are the last of that bloodline. There is no other," insisted Elrond.

Aragorn stepped away from the cleared grave and gazed at it.

He heard someone walking through the woods behind him and quickly deduced were Harry had gone.

"Perhaps it is better that there is no other," said Aragorn. "You heard Boromir during the council. 'Gondor has no King. Gondor needs no King.' Maybe Gondor is better off without me. I just want to live, Adar. After this quest is completed, I will return here and live out my life with Arwen."

Elrond said nothing in response to this. Aragorn looked at him. He could see that he was struggling with something.

"What is it, Adar?"

Elrond heaved a long sigh. "Our time here is ending." he said. "Arwen's time is ending. Let her go. Let her take the ship into the west. Let her bear away her love for you to the Undying Lands. There it will be evergreen."

Aragorn also sighed. He had suspected this might be coming for a long time. He knew that Elrond had never really approved of his relationship with Arwen.

"But never more than a memory." he said.

Elrond's face hardened. "I will not leave my daughter here to die."

"She satys because she has hope-"

"She stays for you!" yelled Elrond. "She belongs with her people!"

Elrond stormed away and Aragorn called Harry out from here he had been hiding. After his brief conversation with the boy, he went to bed, but he could not sleep.

As the sun peeked over the trees, he quietly dressed and went out to the courtyard where the Fellowship prepared to leave.

"Nach gwannatha sin?" (Is this how you would take your leave?)

He sighed. He should have known.

"Ma nathach hi gwannathach or minuial archened?" (Did you think you could slip away at first light – unnoticed?) asked Arwen lightly.

He did not return her affectionate tone. "Ú-ethelithon." (I will not be coming back.)

She laughed. "Estelio guru lîn ne dagor. Ethelithach." (You underestimate your skill in battle. You will come back.)

He shook his head. "Ú-bedin o gurth ne dagor." (It is not of death in battle that I speak.)

Arewn had figured out that something was bothering him awfully. "O man pedich?" (What do you speak of?)

Aragorn sighed and turned to face her. "Edra le men, men na guil edwen. Haer o auth a nîr a naeth." (You have a chance for another life. Away from war... grief... despair.)

Arwen stared at him, trying to decide if he was serious. "Why are you saying this?" she asked.

"I am mortal; you are Elfkind. It was a dream, Arwen, nothing more." he said heavily. He held out his hand and opened it. He held out the Evenstar pendant for her. "This belongs to you." he said.

Arwen's eyes filled with tears. "It was a gift." she said. She closed his hand. "Keep it."

Aragorn put his pipe away and rolled out his cloak preparing to sleep, but as usual, it would not come.