Author's note: I am sorry to whomever this may offend, or to those who will no longer want to read this story...however, I am making this an Aragorn/OC thing. I have tried to simply let things fall where they may and see where everything is heading, however it seems that a certain person is determined to become too close for normal affection levels to permit. Once again, I am sorry to those of you who do not like this. I am not sure it can be helped at this point though, as a few of the characters are pointing to this eventual outcome regardless of what I attempt to do to fix it. They become unhappy and so I must re-write the lines and paragraphs until they are happy once more. Such is the life of a writer. I hope that this does not make many of you too upset, and if it does...than I thank you for reading thus far and wish you luck finding something less upsetting.

Disclaimer: I do not now, have not and unfortunately will not ever own Lord of the Rings. (I am a bit obsessed though, with the story not individual people)

25.

Aragorn hurriedly stood up, motioned for us to follow, and ran behind an outcropping of rock. Legolas, Gimli, and I followed, darting behind the rock an instant before the horsemen topped the hill and galloped down the other side. They rode past with their spears held high, and a sense of gloom hung about them. Aragorn appeared to recognize something about these horsemen for, when the last one had passed the rock which we hid behind, he came out from behind it and shouted.

"Riders of Rohan…what news from the Mark?"

We instantly knew that the Riders had heard him, for the lead horseman turned his spear—signaling the others to turn and follow him, they all galloped back towards us. Within seconds we were surrounded by the hundred men on horseback, their spears lowered and pointed at us…if we so much as moved, we would be skewered by at least three spears. Legolas and Gimli looked at Aragorn and then each other, questioning whether what Aragorn had done had been a good idea or not. Aragorn appeared to be second guessing his choice as well, for when he raised his hands to show he meant no harm…he looked rather uncertain.

One horseman rode forward through the throng of horses and men, he came to a stop before Aragorn…his voice was filled with disdain when he spoke.

"What business does and Elf, a Man, a girl, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"

This was not a man to be trifled with, whoever he was, he would not allow any stalling or irritating comments…one wrong word and we would all be on the end of a spear. Therefore it was rather unfortunate that Gimli was the one who spoke first.

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine."

Aragorn gave Gimli a look of exasperation—no doubt wishing that the dwarf had not said anything. However, the man on the horse had an entirely different reaction; he glared at Gimli for a moment before swinging down from his horse and walking up to the dwarf to loom over him, as he spoke with anger filled words. Aragorn placed a hand on Gimli's shoulder as the man approached.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf…if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

In one swift movement, Legolas drew an arrow and had his bow aimed at the man's face. Legolas's voice was cold and angry when he spoke to the man who had threatened Gimli.

"You would die before your stroke fell."

Legolas had every spear pointed at him the instant that his bow was drawn. Aragorn stepped in front of the man and lowered Legolas's bow with a hand on the arrow. This entire situation had gotten out of hand rather quickly. Aragorn gave Legolas a look to tell him to calm down, then he turned to the unknown man and spoke as calmly as he could.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Theoden, your king."

He did not introduce me to the man, instead he shifted slightly to hide me from sight—Legolas than shifted to aid Aragorn in shielding me, I was confused about this, but did not dare speak into the tense silence which followed. The man glanced over at me and frowned, he appeared to be debating something before his spoke with a voice laced with bitterness and sorrow.

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe." He reached up to his helmet and removed it, signaling his men to lower raise their spears and no longer point them at us. "Not even his own kin. Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king…and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say…as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets." The man glared at each of us in turn, his glare staying on Legolas as he finished speaking. Aragorn spoke quickly, both to reassure him that we were not spies, and to stop the man from staring angrily at the elf.

"We are no spies. We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive." The man looked decidedly uncomfortable at this, he looked at the ground, then glared once again as he answered Aragorn.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

Gimli barely let the man finish speaking before he blurted his question, desperate to hear the fate of our friends. "But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?"

Aragorn broke in as well, explaining to the man what hobbits were, as he had most likely never heard of them. "They would be small. Only children to your eyes."

The man shook his head before he answered almost regretfully. "We left none alive." His words were met by silence and a deep sense of loss swept over us; we had not saved Merry and Pippin, they had died in the night at the hands of the men of Rohan. The man turned to look back the way he had come and spoke again. "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

We all peered around the man to see a single column of smoke rising into the sky, the column marking the place where the hobbits had been killed and then burned with their Uruk-hai captors. Gimli stared in disbelief, a single word forcing its way from his lips.

"Dead?"

The man only nodded in confirmation. I felt tears begin to fall down my face, sorrow at the deaths of the two hobbits enveloping me. The two fun loving hobbits who always had a story to tell, the two hobbits who could always make us laugh when things were bad, the two hobbits who always had a kind word for everyone…the two hobbits who were my friends.

The movement of my hand wiping away my tears drew the man's attention back to where I stood mostly hidden by Aragorn and Legolas. The man's gaze hardened, anger was visibly rising within him; he made an odd movement with his hand and I felt strong hands grab my arms in a vice-like grip. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli's hands moved to their weapons, then they looked at the surrounding horsemen and lowered their hands again. However, they kept their eyes on me and the man as he began speaking. His voice filled with anger, disgust and oddly—betrayal.

"Who is this person who you have not seen fit to introduce to me and my company? Your whore no doubt." The man stepped closer to me, his hand rising level with my face. He extended a finger and touched my cheek, ran it along my cheekbone, down to my jaw, and over my lips. The man did not turn around as he continued speaking, and therefore missed the angry looks which the other three were giving him. "A pretty poor one at that, it would seem, but a whore nonetheless. I am sure that spies of the White Wizard can afford a better whore than this one. Were these "hobbits" of yours, the ones who bedded her the most frequently, and the tears she sheds are for her lost lovers? In Rohan, the penalty for being a whore is death."

When the man finished speaking, he wiped his finger on the end of his cloak, as though he had touched something foul…something disgusting and evil. There was a low growl from behind him and the man turned to find its source standing about three feet away and four feet tall. The man glanced at the faces of Legolas and Aragorn as well before focusing back on the dwarf; the former looking as though he was mere seconds away from murdering the man, the latter seeming torn between restraining his friend, or helping him.

"I would not be talking that way about Raven, or our friends which you and your men murdered last night. At least, not if you want to keep your head upon your shoulders instead of at your feet." Gimli's words were more growled than spoken. There was a tense silence in which Aragorn hurried to calm himself enough to speak before the dwarf and the rest of them were skewered on the long spears which had been lowered again.

"Raven is no whore. She is not that sort of girl and the hobbits were not the sort who would do such things even if she were. We are not spies of Saruman; we were friends of Gandalf the Grey before he fell into shadow and flame." Aragorn stared hard at the man, watching for any sign of belief in his face. His hand dropping from his sword when the man gave a curt nod and backed away from me, the spears were once again raised and my arms were freed.

Legolas gently took my arm and pulled me over to him and back into the safety of his and Aragorn's shadow. The man strode back to his horse, and addressed Aragorn with forced apology in his tone.

"I am sorry for having offended you. It is difficult to be certain of anything in these dark times." The man licked his lips and called out to his men. "Hasufel! Arod!" Two horses were brought forth; the man grasped the reigns of both horses and said solemnly. "May these horses bear you to better fortunes than their former masters. Farewell." He handed the reins to Aragorn and Legolas, climbed upon his own horse, looked back at Aragorn and spoke a few last words. "Look for you friends. But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands. We ride north!" The last words were shouted at his company of riders.

They took off at a gallop, riding off across the plains to some unknown destination. Aragorn turned to me and carefully grasped my shoulders in his hands. I had not realized that I was shaking until this moment; Aragorn pulled me against him for a moment before he lifted me onto the horse that was brown. Aragorn got on behind me and turned the horse towards the column of smoke—Legolas and Gimli mounted the white horse called "Hasufel", then the horses were spurred onwards towards the scene of the death of our friends.

I had never ridden a horse before, and I am not sure it is something that I want to do again. It was quite uncomfortable, yet it was much faster than running across the land of Rohan towards the mound of burned bodies. The first thing that I saw upon approaching the heap of bodies, was a severed head upon a spear; the head dripped with blood and its tongue hung out the side of its mouth…yet the thing that grabbed our attention was the smoking pile of remains. Aragorn and Legolas brought the horses to a halt in front of the pile, looks of devastation upon each of our faces as we gazed upon the bodies of Uruk-hai. Aragorn and I dismounted first, followed shortly thereafter by Legolas and Gimli. Gimli poked through the remains with his axe, unearthing a charred belt with the design of Lothlorien upon it. Gimli managed to choke out a few words until he could say no more.

"It's one of their wee belts."

Legolas closed his eyes and began whispering something in Elvish; Aragorn kicked a helmet across the open grass land and fell to his knees with a cry of anguish. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling tears begin to fall and not being able to stop them—not caring if it was not alright to cry for the death of my friends…the tears would not stop.

For a long moment none of us moved, then Aragorn moved forward on his hands and knees, speaking quietly and with growing excitement in his voice.

"A hobbit lay here. And the other. They crawled. Their hands were bound. Their bonds were cut." Aragorn stood and followed a trail which only he could see, following the trail of the hobbits as they ran from the attack on the Uruk-hai. "They were followed. Tracks lead away from the battle…into Fangorn Forest."

It was then that I really noticed the forest; the song of these trees was so much older than the ones in Lothlorien. These trees were angry, they were ancient and filled with suppressed rage. They groaned to one another…these trees were more alive than any which I had previously encountered and I was curious about them. Gimli spoke with surprise and dread.

"Fangorn? What madness drove them in there?"

We gazed into the dark depths of the forest, a shiver going down each of our spines, yet there was no going back. We had to follow, we had to find the hobbits, and to do that we had to enter Fangorn Forest.

Please review and I hope that you have enjoyed reading this so far.