To anyone who reviewed thank you. To anyone who will review 'gracias'. To all who love this story 'merci'. And to all my haters- suck it up. I'm going through with this. Let's get on with it-

*L*

It took the better part of the day to reach Edoras again, and by the time the Fellowship and its companions entered the gates it was almost dusk. Eowyn could be seen sitting on the steps of the palace waiting for their return, and as soon as the riders dismounted she ran up to greet them. She stole a special glance at Aragorn before going to speak to the king.

"Uncle, the procession is inside. The banquet's being prepared as we speak." Theoden smiled and placed an affectionate hand on his niece's shoulder. "Thank you, Eowyn. Please inform the kitchens the party will begin on schedule." He beckoned Gandalf to follow. Once the two were gone the hobbits ran off, no doubt looking for something to do or mischief to manage, while Gimli attempted to slide off his pony gracefully- with little success. Eowyn caught him before he hit the ground.

"Thank, M'Lady," the dwarf thanked gruffly, shaking dirt from his feet before looking up to see her. "Though I could have gotten down right enough by myself- "

"Of course you could Gimli, because you're just that well of a rider to begin with," Legolas chuckled. He and Gwen shared a laugh and smiled at each other- perhaps too long- before Eowyn stepped in. "Anyhow, the feast is to start in a few hours. I'd be most honored if you would all attend."

Aragorn nodded graciously and bowed, speaking for the group. "We would be most privileged to spend more time in Rohan's good company." Eowyn blushed and was about to reply, but Gwen took up her arm to silence her. "Indeed, we shall be in attendance. Meanwhile, I was hoping I could interest you in a quick ride out to the valley, Eowyn. I'd like to catch up, since we didn't travel back to Rohan in the same assembly."

The shieldmaiden was evidently flustered by the sudden turn of conversation, but, being kind and sincere, couldn't refuse her friend. "Why certainly-"

"Good. Let's go."

The elfling turned, with Eowyn's hand still in her grasp, and led her away towards the horses, but not before the woman could catch one last glimpse of Aragon. Their gazes met with an amused shrug from the Gondorian heir and a gentle smile from the noble lady, and they both went their separate ways.

As the men of the Fellowship circled back towards the Hall and the way Gandalf and Theoden had gone Gimli chuckled churlishly. "I'll never understand women," the dwarf commented in good nature, ignoring the looks from Legolas and Aragorn. "Not as long as I live, and not a moment too soon."

*L*

Once the women were in the stables Eowyn let out a begrudging moan. "What was that for Gwendolyn?" she demanded in a disgruntled mood. "I was perfectly fine without your help, and now I look foolish!" The Rivendell lady held back a less than pleasant remark and just shook her head as she brought back out her painted mare. "Believe me Eowyn, if you had stood there a moment longer you would have looked foolish and known about it. The way Aragorn sees it, you are still not the 'blubbering idiot' you could appear to be if you'd continued to flirt with him."

Eowyn didn't know how to reply to that. "I'm not- You were- Aragorn doesn't- I wasn't flirting!" Gwen rolled her eyes and swung herself up on her horse before beckoning her friend to her own palomino. "Not yet you weren't. Trust me Eowyn; you were better off riding with me than going moony-eyed over a Ranger."

The young woman could think of no better reply and mounted her stallion, riding out with Gwen past the city gates. "I guess you're right." She then looked the elfling over with a cross between admiration and amusement. "You know for an elf, you've got the temperaments of a Rohirrim. Had you not been born with those ears of yours I think you'd fit it quite nicely here."

Gwen slowed her steed's gallop to a slow trot to let Eowyn ride alongside her, thinking. "I wasn't always an elf," she finally told her friend. "Technically, I'm not even meant to be here. But I guess I fell into the right kind of graces, because here I am now." She laughed bitterly. "But I suppose immortality suits me. I get to wander the earth without a care in the world until some little purpose comes by, and then wander around a few more, so by the time I die I'm thousands of years old and not a single good thing to show for it."

The Rohirrim shieldmaiden stared at the woman beside her, not knowing what had come over her. "You do not like being Elven?" she asked cautiously. "You believe it not truly what it is to the rest of us? The Elves have been what has kept Middle Earth together for centuries, perhaps the only thing left to fall before our destruction, yet here you are unhappy with your role in its society. It would leave many to wonder why…"

The Elven lady frowned, thinking it over again. "I am not ungrateful to them, if that is what you are implying. I have just been wondering, had I not been spirited away here, where I would be now, with my family and past life… and if I were to go back to that…"

"And what about Legolas?" Eowyn's words snapped Gwen out of her daze. "What would become of him?" "What do you mean?" the elf asked in return, caught extremely off-guard by this sudden inquiry. "Legolas and I are good friends, nothing more than that-"

"Don't give me that Camaessel!" Eowyn chuckled, spurring her horse forward to a walk so she could converse with Gwendolyn while she rode. "I see the way you look at him, and he looks at you- there is a spark, anyone can see!" When her fellow rider did not reply in a timely fashion Eowyn looked over at her. Much to her surprise, the elf was blushing!

"Is it really that obvious?" she muttered, embarrassed. It was Eowyn's turn to laugh now. "I've never seen an elf turn that color bright red! I guess I must take into account you wish to keep your human heritage, but still! It is that obvious dear, but to those who know you. Your secret is safe with me."

Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you think anyone else figures in?" she asked, somewhat anxiously but doing well to keep her emotions check as elves do. "Like… him?" The Rohirrim horsewoman shook her head and turned her horse back to the way they came. The sound of bells tolling came a second later. "No, I don't believe he does. But he has been denying his feeling a lot longer than you as well- he might not even have admitted them to himself. In this way you are ahead in the game. Now let's go back' the feast will be starting shortly."

The two women spurred their horses around and raced back to Edoras.

*L*

In short, the feast was magnificent. There was a roaring fire, a lamb roasting on a spit, long tables laden with food, anything anyone could want. Barrels of wine and whole wheels of cheese had been rolled over of the cellar for such an occasion. The banquet was laid ready for the returning soldiers.

Theoden King stood at the head of the largest table and raised his goblet, filled with fine mead. "Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail the victorious dead!" the crowd echoed, and they drank deeply. Gimli downed his glass within a single gulp, while Gwen barely touched hers. Legolas even partook in the festivities, drinking from his shot once or twice before setting it aside for the evening. He knew it took quite a bit to get an elf drunk, but he thought it unwise to try and push the boundary for the night. Constant diligence, he thought, pulling from a memory that seemed so far away. He'd almost forgotten who had first said it.

Over at one of the other tables Merry and Pippin had cleared away the setting and were busy entertaining the Rohirrim guests seated down below them. The hobbits hopped up on the slab of wood and started to dance and sing. They were in full voice, on top of their lungs. Both hold very large mugs of ale in their hands.

"Oh, you can search - up and down

As many lands as can be found

But you'll never find a beer so brown

As the one we drink in our home town

You can keep your fancy ales

You can drink them by the flagon

But the only brew, for the brave and true…

Comes from the Green Dragon!"

When the song had ended (with much disappointment from the Rohirrim) Gandalf could be seen laughing and clapping, a rarity for the white wizard. Aragorn stepped up next to him and began a conversation with him, and they talked in grave tones, but Legolas in all his enhanced hearing could not make it out over the chatter of the party and roaring fire. He decided to ask the heir later, when it was over. Two could keep a secret if one of them was dead, but the Fellowship could have none. War was too high-priced to have such little trust.

A band of musicians struck up a quick and lively tune, and Gwen was at his side in an instant. She looked happy for once, at peace without care amongst fellow kindred spirits of the fine arts. Legolas often wondered if she felt more at home with mortals than elf kind.

"You are not participating," she observed, looking up at the prince somewhat curiously. "It's not like you." Legolas shrugged and continued to oversee the party, leaning up against one of the pillars supporting the Hall while talking to Gwen. "I do not find Rohirrim feasts overly impressive. I have lived hundreds of years Gwen; there is not much to be seen that surprises me anymore."

"You had fun at the feast in Lothlorien," Gwen pointed out, smirking slyly. "You danced." Legolas's mind briefly flickered back to Galadriel's court, when Gwendolyn and he had twirled around a grand hall in a whirlwind of silver and gold, the night young and almost never-ending. It seemed like eons ago- had it only been a few months?

"That was different-"he started to say, but Gwen looked at him so dejectedly he changed his mind. "Do you want to dance?" he asked abruptly, hoping that would lighten her mood, but the elfling just shrugged indifferently. "It doesn't matter if you do not want to," she replied casually. "I was just wondering why you were so uneager to participate in the festivities. Something is wrong, yes?"

So that was her angle. She didn't want a dance, she wanted the truth. Gwen could read people like a book, Legolas decided. "Frodo and Sam haven't been seen by anyone in weeks," he told her, lying with ease. It wasn't that their disappearance hadn't worried him; it had. But it wasn't the only reason he was watching from a distance, and that particular reason wasn't coming out anytime soon- especially not to Gwendolyn.

"They will be fine," Gwen reassured him, placing a hand on his arm in a friendly sort of way. "Frodo has Sam, and Sam has a loyal heart. At least one of them will make it to Mordor, if not both." "That's not what worries me," Legolas replied, meeting her gaze. "Gollum might be with them."

Gwen's eyebrows raised, curious. "Gollum, the creature from the Misty Mountains?"

"There are many creatures in the Misty Mountains Camaessel."

"I meant from whom Bilbo Baggins stole the Ring. One hears the stories, especially when they live in Rivendell. You are saying he might influence Frodo's decision in regards to the Ring?"

"He will. Gollum cannot be trusted."

"Do you even know for sure if he is with them? You said it yourself, 'Frodo and Sam haven't been seen by anyone in weeks'."

The Elven Prince looked down at her solemnly with worry dousing his heart. "The creature is with them- of this I am sure."

*L*

Night fell soon after, and while everyone else went off to bed (the Hobbits had passed out during the final hour of the feast) Legolas stayed outside the Golden Hall. Darkness enveloped the walls and buildings around the castle, with shadows casting off eerie figures that danced in the moonlight. The chilling wind swirled around them, sweeping the elf's cloak and hood about him. Although not a living thing stirred not all was well in soul.

Aragorn appeared later on, around midnight, and the two friends stood looking out upon the plains of Rohan in silence. They gazed out across the sleeping city to the looming mountain range beyond. Dark clouds stuck to and marked the sky like pitch.

"The stars are veiled," Legolas remarked ominously. "Something stirs in the east . . . A sleepless malice." He looked at Aragorn with a disheartened expression, realization dawning on his face. "The eye of the enemy is moving."

Aragorn nodded solemnly, not bothering to meet his eye. "Sauron's strength is growing, in numbers as well as power. It will not be long before we hear of stirring in the mountains of Mordor."

"There has already been stirring in Mordor," the elf prince pointed out. "The rising of the Uruk-Hai and gathering of Orcs attest to that."

The Gondorian heir shook his head in regret, as though he wished he were far away from where he was then, without troubles or worries or a war to die fighting for. "I meant the Gray Host. They keep to themselves mostly, but Sauron will come for them, and when he does they will join him."

"If he believes their efforts are worth pursuing, that is," Legolas reminded him. "You know their curse. They can and will only serve Isildur or his heirs. Sauron has no power over the Army of the Dead." He then chuckled, a weak attempt at humor. "You still have much to learn about your own heritage, Aragorn."

Aragorn had nothing to say to that.

*L*

Meanwhile, back in the Fellowship's living quarters, Merry and Pippin was getting into trouble again. It was to Pippin's great dismay when he awakened to find his friend sitting up, wiping sleep from his eyes and moving towards Gandalf!

The White wizard's eyes were wide and open, but he was asleep. The Palantír was wrapped and safely tucked in Gandalf's arms, away from the overbearing eye. But Pippin wasn't your average prying eye, and he wasn't very good at maintaining his curiosity either. Undeterred by Gandalf's open yet unseeing gaze, he quickly replaced the Palantír with a flower pot and sneaked back to his bed, orb in hand.

"Pippin? Pippin?" Merry whispered, trying not to wake a slumbering Gimli and Gwendolyn a few feet away. "Pippin! What are you doing?"

With incredible stealth-like qualities Pippin slid back across the floor and onto his cot, as though he'd never left at all. Merry continued to try and get his companion's attention. "Pippin, are you mad?" he asked, frustrated. They'd pulled things over Gandalf before (or at least tried to. They'd never gotten away with them for long), but never this dangerous!

"I just want to look at it!" Pippin whined, slowly unwrapping it like it was a precious jewel. His eyes grew large and round, his voice straying farther and farther away. "Just one more time..."

Merry's horrified voice faded into the background as Pippin drew the Palantír closer, intent and in wonder. "Put it back! Put - it - back! Pippin..."

As Pippin laid his hands on the crystal, a sickly pale light slowly spread from the glass ball onto Pippin's face. His eyes widened in shock. He could barely make out Merry's voice before his consciousness took over.

"Pippin!"

*L*

Gwen was jolted awake by a very frantic Merry, who was as white as her nightdress and babbling nonsense. The elfling was about to ask him what was wrong, but she got the picture once she spotted his comrade jerking around on the floor. The Palantír was a fiery glowing sphere now, and Pippin was oblivious to its dangerous aura of power. It sucked all the air out of the room upon contact.

Pippin suddenly starts to hyperventilate. He staggered backwards, the Palantír held rigidly before him. Gwen rolled out of bed and caught him just before he fell to his knees, his mouth open in a soundless scream. He was powerless to release the fiery globe.

"Pippin, Pippin!" Gwen shouted, reaching out to shake him. "Pippin, snap out of it!"

"Help! Someone help him!" Merry cried.

Gandalf woke with a start, his eyes as wide as before, but seeing and comprehending all that was happening around him. "Get away from him, Camaessel! He is dangerous!" he yelled in warning, starting towards Pippin. Gwen hastily stepped back as Gandalf continued. "He is under the influence of Sauron!"

Just then Aragorn and Legolas entered, knives and sword drawn for protection. Aragorn wrenched the Palantír from Pippin's ridged hands, allowing him to fall back into Gandalf's arms. Upon contact with the sphere Aragorn spun away, reeling backwards with the Palantír falling out of his grasp. It rolls across the floor, causing everyone in the room to cower back.

By this time Gimli was up, rubbing sleep from his eyes before speaking. "What was that conundrum?"

Gandalf furious threw a blanket over the Palantír before settling on angry disbelief. He rounded onto Pippin, who sat in fetal position on the floor. It reminded Gwen of a tornado drill back in her time.

"Fool of a Took!" the wizard growled, glaring at the small hobbit. He lifted Pippin's hands of feel for a pulse. Merry fell at his friend's side. "Pippin!" Gimli later swore it was the seventh time he'd called the hobbit's name in that minute alone.

Pippin meanwhile was shaking, his brow speckled with sweat and tears. His eyes were broken and fearful. "Gandalf!" he whispered up to the old man, his voice weak and barely audible. "Forgive me."

The wizard tried calming him. "Look at me," he said, deeply concerned. "What did you see?"

Everyone held their breath as Pippin described the events. His speech was disjointed. "A tree ... There was a white tree . . . in a courtyard of stone . . . It was dead! The city was burning ..." his voice trailed off, and Gwen took the time to ponder this. "I have heard of a city like this," she told Aragorn and Gandalf. "Not burning, but made into stone with the stripped dead tree. It is called-

"Minas Tirith," Gandalf finished for her before returning to Pippin. "Is that what you saw?" The Hobbit nodded, terrified. "I saw . . . I saw him . . . I could hear his voice in my head."

"And what did you tell him? Speak!"

"He asked me my name, I didn't answer!" Pippin whispered, desperate to be believed ". . . he hurt me . . ." It came out as a whimper. The White Wizard stared at Pippin with a frightening intensity while Gimli scuffled to the door, next to Legolas and Aragorn. Gwendolyn and Merry were still at Pippin's side. When Gandalf finally spoke, it was quiet and severe.

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?"

*L*

The company gathered in Théoden's hall, and together explained in great detail the events surrounding Pippin's bout of Sauron. The king sat on his throne, gravely listening to

Gandalf tell the tale. The Hobbits were resting back in their room, with Aragorn, Legolas, Gwen and Gimli looking on for a distance, all seated at a table off to the side. Gwen had changed out of her gown and into her elven clothes again, blue silk trousers and a matching top, with her blades at her side and tall boots already on her feet. She appeared to be waiting for something, though what it was no one could yet answer.

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes," the wizard told Theoden. "A fool, but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. We've been strangely fortunate. What Pippin saw in the Palantír was a glimpse of our enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing-"Gandalf looked at Aragorn in a knowing sort of way. Legolas figured it had something to do with their conversation earlier that night.

"The heir of Elendil has come forth," he continued. "Men are not as weak as he supposed. There is courage still - strength enough left to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the people of Middle Earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees the return of the King." He looked back at Aragorn pointedly.

Theoden listened intently, still silent. He knew the wizard spoke the truth, but Gandalf rounded onto him still. "If the beacons of Condor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war!"

The King of the Rohirrim spoke quietly at this, but his voice was filled with malice. "Tell me. Why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?" He sneaked a look at the Ranger, whose eyes narrowed.

"I will go," Aragorn said, low and urgently. "Gondor is mine by blood, if not right."

"No!" Gandalf cut him off in a hurried fashion.

"They must be warned!"

"They will be," the wizard told him cryptically. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river, look to the black ship. Understand this; things are now in motion that cannot be undone." He then turned to the rest of the Fellowship. "I ride for Minas Tirith! And I won't be going alone!" His gaze wandered over to the door, where the Hobbits had just entered- and then it fell on Gwen.

"Peregrin Took will be with me, as it was he who saw this danger. Camaessel Hethelil, you shall follow-"

"No!" Legolas interrupted, ignoring the looks he got for everyone in the hall. "I will go. I know the way-"

"As does she, and she is more scholared in their ways at that," Gandalf continued. "I admire your spirit, Legolas Greenleaf, but Gwendolyn has a slight advantage over you, given her background and history. She will ride with us, and that is final." The White Wizard then pivoted around and whisked out of the hall, a frightened Pippin in tow with a severely annoyed Merry marching beside. The remaining members of the Fellowship turned and stared at Gwen. She avoided their gazes and followed the Hobbits out.

Legolas tried not to stare as she left, but he couldn't help the sinking feeling that boiled down in an empty pit in his stomach. She can't go, not now, he thought, his face etched with worry. Not when we just got her back…

"You should follow her." Aragorn's voice was steady and meaningful, like he actually thought Legolas would do as he suggested. When the elf prince shot him a wary glance the Gondorian heir just nodded in her direction. "You should. I think she wouldn't mind."

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Oh, for the love of Moria, go after her laddie, before she up and leaves us!" Gimli snapped gruffly, a ghost of a smile playing in his eyes. "Gracious, elves are just as clueless as the rest of us when it comes to women. Get out of here!"

That was all the elf needed to hear. He trudged out of the Golden Hall and down the staircase, dashing after Gwen to catch her before she left. He found her in the stables with Gandalf and the Hobbits, mounted and ready to be off.

"You don't have to do this you know," he told her, looking up at the woman in an unbalanced sort of way. "You can back out, I'm sure Gandalf would understand-"He was silenced by Gwen's gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. "I do, actually," she replied, smiling sadly. "We will be meeting Boromir's father once we get to Minas Tirith. I am sure he would like to know his son did not die in vain."

Legolas, however much he wanted to argue, couldn't say no to that. "Just be safe," he told her, stepping back so her horse could ride out. "Gondor's people are friendly, but its Steward may not be as accepting."

Camaessel smiled slightly, almost sad. "We have set into motion events that cannot be undone, I fear," she sighed. "We will need all the strength we have to endure the fight that will certainly come to us."

She drew her hand away from his shoulder and looked back at Gandalf and Pippin. "Gandalf, we must hurry if we want to reach Minas Tirith in time." The White wizard nodded once and spurred Shadowfax onward. "Go Shadowfax, and show us the meaning of haste!"

The white stallion reared and galloped out of the stables, with Gwen and her mare following shortly behind. Together the company rode out of Edoras and onto the plains, never looking back. Legolas stood at the front gate until the two horses were only specks of dust in the horizon. Gimli stepped to his side at once, watching the riders.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," the son of Glóin frowned, tearing his eyes away to look up at Legolas. The elf prince did not bat an eye. "We are divided once more, us three of the Fellowship," he commented quietly. "Once, when Gandalf was dead and Gwendolyn and the Hobbits were taken, and now."

"The circumstances have changed, Legolas," Aragorn said, stepping up on the other side of him. "Merry is with us, and Gandalf is not dead. Gwendolyn is not in the hands of the Uruk-Hai and our lives are not in danger as they were then."

At that point Legolas was forced to tear his gaze away and looked over at the Ranger with distaste. "In danger how exactly? Sauron had less of an influence then than he does now. I daresay we are in more trouble than we have ever been in before." He turned back to the gate and tried to find Gwen's figure dotting the landscape once more, but he was too late. They were already gone.

We have set into motion events that cannot be undone, Gwen had said wisely. We will need all the strength we have to endure the fight that will certainly come to us. She was right; this was war.

Sorry this took so long to put up. Summer's been crazy, I'm sure you are all aware. But I'm here now, so maybe I can finished this fanfic up before the year is out.

Question: I've been having Gwen in and out of speech contexts, going from regular human phrases to elven sort of speech, all official and whatnot. Should I continue to do this, as a reference to her heritage, or change it to just elven as a way of transformation?

With that in mind, review!