a/n: it's the 18th and it's my birthday! Let's hope you're having a better day than I am.. enjoy.. and please review if you can be bothered to do so..

-Sam-

"You need not come to the funeral." A voice behind me said.

I turned around to see Boromir.

"Theodred's funeral?" I repeat. "Why not?"

"You should take the time to rest."

I frowned. "I'm fine Boromir."

"No you are not." He said giving me a pointed look. "You are staying here."

"And if I don't?" I challenge, glaring at him.

He glares right back, very heatedly.

Ooh, scary man…

"Then I shall strap you down!" he answered. "Then you shall have no other alternative."

Damn him…

"Fine." I mutter exasperated. "Fine."

He shakes his head and turns to leave the room.

Stupid brother.

I plop down onto the chair and pushed my hair out of my eyes letting out a growl of annoyance.

Ugh!

"My lady," came another voice, a different one.

I turn around to see Eowyn carrying Keiko and my other weapons.

"Oh, hello Lady Eowyn." I greet heaving a sigh.

She hands me my weapons and looks at my clothing. "Does it not get uncomfortable?"

I stare. "What?"

"Your clothes." She said, gesturing at my tunic and pants.

Ah, I don't think she's ever worn anything of the sort. A shield maiden of Rohan is expected to be well… a maiden…

What was my point?

"No." I answer, putting my weapons down. "It's actually very comfortable."

"I never caught your name…" she says slightly abashed.

I smile at her. "It's Samantha. But I like to be called Sam."

She nods. "What is it like, traveling with warriors such as your companions?"

She looks interested.

I pause, thinking.

"Perilous." I answer. "Because of the dangers you have to face. Annoying. Because you can't get a second's worth of privacy amidst all those men. But you learn to love them, no matter how infuriating because they're all you've got."

Which is true…

Gandalf is well… Gandalf…

Aragorn's always the leader… stern, proud and well…umm…rangerly….

Boromir is overprotective, sarcastic and oftentimes amusing when he's not in my face about something…

Gimli is funny, sarcastic brave and honest…you can't help but like him. Height, beard, metal, axe, smell and all.

Legolas…well he's studly…but we all know that. But aside from that, he's nice. He's quiet, yeah, but he cares. And he's smart, guess that comes as a pre-requisite when you're an elf-prince.

Who knew?

Ignore that…

"Is there anything you need?" she asks.

I think and immediately begin to redden.

"Well…" I began. "Truth be told… I'm in serious need of a bath."

She stares.

Uhm… I think I know how crappy I look without you staring at me…

"Er—well you see we haven't really had time for such necessities during our travel and—I uh…"

I trailed off as she started laughing and I realize, uncomfortably, how clean she is and how I must look like crap compared to her.

"What's so funny?" I demand in outrage.

It certainly isn't something to laugh about just because you're cleaner than me!

"Oh, my… I'm sorry Sam." She said stifling her laughter. "This way."

I sighed and followed her to a door of a room on the far left side of the large hall-slash-room I was in. my eyes grew wide when I saw that there was a tub in it filled with water.

"I'm afraid no one can be spared to light the coals." She said apologetically.

"Oh, no it's quite alright." I answer eyeing the tub of glorious water.

"I'll lay out some clothing for you in the adjoining room." She says pointing to a door and exiting.

Ah, glorious, glorious water!

I seriously haven't had a decent bath since Lorien and I feel so disgustingly grimy.

It's sickening.

I don't know how Aragorn puts up with it.

Your clothes get all stiff and everything feels gritty. Then of course the dirt and sweat will make horrible stains. Try picturing this: your clothes are brown and yellow with all the unpleasantries and that's not counting the orc-blood from the battles.

Also, there's the matter of grass and leaves and more dirt getting into your hair.

Plus, there's also the dirt and grime you get on your face during battles and sleeping on the ground.

Ugh!

It's horrible.

Just horrible.

And it's kinda embarrassing when you're placed beside Eowyn who is like, clean and fucking immaculate compared to me and all my muddy gear.

A half hour later I emerge from the tub feeling wonderful

Who cares if it's cold?

Who cares if it's freezing?

I'm clean!

Oh joy!

Now it's off to get dressed.

Here's hoping Eowyn had enough sense to get me pants and not a dress.

--

Oh dear…

It's a dress!

It's another dress!

No!

I don't do dresses!

I stare at the blue thing that was in front of me.

"You do not like it?" Eowyn asks looking crestfallen. "I assumed you would like it…'Tis not very intricate."

Oh dear…she looks flustered.

I hold up a hand shivering slightly in the robe I had taken from the previous room.

"Whoa, whoa, cool it. It's not that I don't like the dress, it's just that I'm not comfortable wearing dresses."

She looks convinced by that explanation and complies when I ask her to get my pack.

I get dressed behind a screen and we walk back to the hall thing and sit down, a tray of food is on the table.

Good thing too…I'm ravenous.

"Now," I say after swallowing a bite of bread. "Do you suppose there's any way for me to join the funeral without my companions noticing?"

She looks confused.

"Why do you wish to hide from them?" she asks.

"Boromir doesn't want me to go." I explain. "He said I should take the time to rest and such, because we haven't had any for the past few days. Basically he thinks that just because they're older than me they can boss me around. I'm going as a respect to your uncle and to prove them wrong."

She blinks a few times guess she wasn't expecting that… I shrug.

She smiles, and I notice for the first time how tired that smile is…like she's carrying the weight of the world.

"Would it not be better to go for a more direct approach?" she asks. "Instead of hiding, why not face them head on?

I break into a grin, it's evil and both of us know it.

I like this girl.

"What d'you have in mind?"

OoO

We ended up talking for at least a half-hour and it had nothing to do with the funeral. I think she was glad to have an excuse to forget about the sorrows that faced her that afternoon and just have fun with a fellow female.

But now, here we are.

I follow the march down to the funeral pyre, head down.

There's nothing like a funeral to help you think about life. It's so fleeting…

I look at the corpse of the King's son and can't help but wonder, did he know he was going to die when he woke up that morning and rode with his company to wherever it was they were supposed to go?

I wonder if he himself questioned why his father didn't even visit him during his hours of suffering. I wonder if this knowledge was what killed him in the first place.

Knowing that his father had forsaken him, could he perchance, have chosen death to escape the pain his soul was feeling?

Eowyn sang as they lowered his body into the pyre, looking close to tears.

I never realized from watching the movies and reading the books just how dark these times were.

People lost so much… their homes, their livelihood, and their loved ones…

I can't help but wonder, during the wars that plagued my own world, did anyone ever stop to ponder what the loss would feel like?

Did anyone think of the mothers and wives and sisters left at home and what they felt about being ripped apart with the ones they loved?

"Sam," Boromir whispered putting a hand on my shoulder and steering me back towards Meduseld.

I follow, unblinkingly and then, feeling a sudden urge, I turn. I gazed at Theoden and Gandalf.

I feel for the king. I really do. He's a father who just lost a son, not an heir, a son. And he wasn't even able to tell him how much he cared before he died.

It makes me wonder…

Is that how my father feels at this very moment?

Is he, perhaps, thinking that I'm dead?

Is he mourning?

Boromir ushers me forward and I space out. My Uncle Albert once told me that the loss of a child is unbearable to a parent. He said he'd much rather lose all his possessions than his kids.

At the time, I didn't really understand, and I can't say I do now.

At least, not completely.

But right now, it didn't matter that we were riding out to war, because all I could think about was my Dad and how much I wanted to see him again.

OoO

"Lass," came a gruff voice I recognized to be Gimli's. "Lass wake up."

I opened my eyes and blinked haphazardly at the beard that swam in front of my eyes.

I fell asleep, heh, go figure.

"I'm up," I answer, sitting up. "I'm up."

"Is she awake Master Dwarf?" Aragorn's head asked peeking into the room.

"Aye." Gimli answered.

"What's happening?" I ask looking for something to get my hair out of my face.

"We make for Helm's Deep." Boromir answers, he looks pissed.

"Oh," I answer and add, just for the hell of it. "And that's bad?"

"Yes," he answered picking up his weapons.

"Why?"

"Because there is no way out of the mountains, Gandalf said so himself." He said frowning. "They will gain nothing but death."

I sigh. This is going to be a long trek.

"You best suit up Sam," came Legolas voice from behind me. "We leave in a few minutes."

"Great." I mutter. "You couldn't wake me up earlier could you?"

"We could." Boromir admits. "But we enjoy seeing you panic."

I glare at them and swear under my breath.

"Assholes."

I run around the room packing loaves of bread and fruit in my pack as well as some new articles of clothing someone laid out for me.

Stupid companions continue to laugh at me as I slip and stumble around.

Arsewipes the whole lot of them!

"When you're done laughing your heads off at my expense, maybe one of you could hand me the phial in my pack. My shoulder's aching again."

Legolas stops laughing and walks over to me, phial in hand.

Aw, he looks concerned. Too bad I saw you laughing buddy boy.

"You have not been drinking it often enough have you?" he asks accusingly.

I snatch the phial from his grasp and take a swig. "Of course I have." I snap at him.

I'm lying, why yes I am.

"You lie." He said looking at me.

Oh no…

"Don't look at me like that!" I say annoyed.

"Like what?" he answers.

"Like you can see through me." I retort, wrinkling my nose.

He looks confused.

I sigh and try to imitate the look he gives me. "There like that."

Boromir snickers and Legolas breaks into a smile.

"Oh." He says. "I think I understand now."

I thwack Boromir upside the head. "Stop laughing!"

I turn back to Legolas. "You have not been taking your medicine as often as you should be."

It's a statement now, not a question.

"How would you know?"

"It would have stopped aching by now." He answers, shaking his head. "Would it truly kill you to try?"

"Grumble, grumble." I answer and reach for my belt.

I tie it around my waist and fumble with the straps.

Legolas gives an exasperated sigh and ties my belt for me.

Oh dear, he's in close proximity. Too close…

I look up to find his face close to mine.

Am I blushing?

Oh, guess I am.

He places a hand gently on my cheek. "You must take better care of yourself."

A knock came on the door.

Glory halleluiah!

We all turn.

"My lords and lady," a young boy said bowing as he opened the door. "We are leaving. The king is asking for you."

He exits and I turn away from Legolas and pick up my things.

That was one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life.

I walk out ignoring Boromir's knowing smirk and join Gimli, who had gone ahead without my noticing, and Aragorn.

We put our things on a horse and climbed on.

We're going to Helm's deep, oh joy!