Me and Not You 1001: I was not mad or anything. I knew well in advance that not everyone would get the songs and references I use in this story. We just miscommunicated there, I think. My bad. Anyway, yes, the Battle of Pellenor Fields is approaching, but I don't really want to skip too much of the in-between. There's still a chunk of plot-ground to cover before we get to that amazing scene, so hang tight! It'll be a rough ride when we get there.

P.S: No need to hunt me down. Rowena is quite safe! ;)

JJAndrews: Hey there! Welcome back! ;) Once again, I am thrilled to hear your thoughts on my story so far! Thanks for explaining and taking the time to get information about gun laws in Scotland. For some reason, it was also amusing to me, in a good way. Anyway, I am not sure if this is legal, but what if her uncle bought it for a legitimate reason, then gave it to her as a gift? Would that be okay?

Jo: Thanks, I think. ;) Seriously, though, I am super pleased that you are enjoying my story.

Emperor DeLacus: Welcome to the family, buddy! I am really heppy that you like my story so much! (^.^) *blushes* I am still being blown over (in a good way) by all the love and attention this story is getting! This is my first large-scale project and I am so happy it's being so well received!

You only had to look at the description to know she was going to end up with Eomer, but I am happy you enjoyed the way I handled the rising feelings between them. They are a cute couple to me, though mine is a biased view! ;) Glad you think the Gandalf-Rowena dynamic was a good idea. I was a bit nervous diving into it like that, but am glad it payed off!

PHEW, THAT WAS A LOT! HOPE YOU ENJOY THE CHAPTER!

GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!

~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER

"No!" I bark. "Seanathair, come on!"

"It must be done." He says gently.

"Why?"

"Because if there are consequences of his experience with the Palantir, I would rather he be where I can be of help to him. And what's more, Sauron is now convinced that it is a Hobbit that has the Ring and that Pippin is that Hobbit. I must protect Pippin as best I can. I can only do that if he is with me." I process his words for a long moment before sagging.

"Curse you and your logic." I grumble.

"Oi!" Merry pipes up. "Shouldn't Pip have a say in this?"

"I'm afraid not." Seanathair says gently. "Worry not; I shall look after him." He says, leading a heavy-footed Pippin to the door. It seems Seanathair always meant to ride to Minas Tirith, for a satchel is waiting by the doors of the Golden Hall and he slings it over his shoulder as he walks out. I put an arm around Pippin's shoulder again.

"Don't worry." I tell him.

"I don't even know what's happening." He counters sadly. "I never seem to." I exhale as I try and think of how to respond.

"Pip, listen. You made a mistake, yes, but that's hardly reason to wallow in guilt. That's something I've been learning since I arrived here."

"But I nearly gave us all up!" He protests. I swallow.

"Didn't you see me at Isengard? I was ready to hand over my weapon before I snapped out of it. Don't be too hard on yourself." I reply. He sighs.

"I'll try."

"Hurry! Hurry!" Seanathair calls from ahead of us. Pippin reluctantly increases his pace. Merry, just ahead of us, hasn't spoken a word to Pippin since the incident and I have a feeling it won't be pretty when he does talk.

"Where are we going?" Pippin asks Merry to try and start a conversation.

"Minas Tirith." I reply before Merry opens his- -too late.

"Why'd you look?" He asks with a sharpness to his tone I can't help but be shocked at. "Why do you always have to look?!"

"Merry, please." I try, but the Hobbit merely glares at me over his shoulder.

"I don't know." Pippin says placatingly. "I can't help it." Merry scoffs.

"You never can."

"Merry!" I bark, frowning.

"I'm sorry, alright?!" Pippin cries, desperate to try and make amends with his cousin. "I won't do it again." It's such a childlike response, I can't help but groan.

"Pippin, please try to understand; this is serious! There's more at stake than 'I won't do it again' can cover."

"But I don't understand at all!" Pippin protests fearfully. I kneel down to his level.

"The Seeing-Stone is a dangerous tool. When you touched it, Sauron saw you. That makes you a target." I explain.

"The Enemy thinks you have the Ring." Merry adds when Pippin still looks confused. I don't know what that means, but it's enough to make Pip pale. "He's going to be looking for you, Pip." Merry explains with a touch of growing worry and concern to his voice. "They've got to get you out of here." Pippin swallows, frowning.

"And you- -you're coming with me, both of you, right?" I sigh heavily and stand, not having the heart to tell him that no, I wasn't. Apparently, Merry doesn't, either, merely walking away toward the stable. Our silence means more than words and Pippin's eyes dim in despair.

"Come on." I say softly. "Seanathair's waiting." In a flash, Pippin is on Shadowfax and Seanathair prepares to mount, as well.

"How far is Minas Tirith?" Pippin asks with forced calm.

"Three days ride, as the Nazgul flies." Seanathair replies. "And you better hope we don't have one of those on our tail." He adds grimly. Whatever 'Nazgul' means, it strikes another spike of fear into Pippin's fragile little heart and another sliver of hope dies in him. Merry then comes forward, a grave and worried gaze fixed on his first cousin.

"Here; a little something for the road." He explains, handing a pouch to Pippin, who eyes it with a mixture of bewilderment, fear, and concern.

"The last of the long bottom leaf." Pippin breaths, frowning.

"I know you've run out." Merry mumbles. "You smoke too much, Pippin." Despite the awful weight of everything, despite the somber atmosphere, I crack a small smile. Those two...were too cute! If I didn't know better, I'd say they were brothers- -maybe even twins- -but not first cousins. Pippin didn't look reassured at all as Seanathair heaved himself onto the resplendent white horse.

"But we'll see each other soon? Won't we?" I tear up at the worried, lost, and honest-to-goodness terrified expression on the little Hobbit's face.

"I don't know." Is all Merry can manage, looking as helpless as I felt. "I don't know what's going to happen." He adds dejectedly, face falling over a cliff into an abyss I didn't know how to get it out of.

"But Seanathair will look after you. Just stick with him, alright?" I say, trying for a smile, but end up nearly sobbing all of a sudden. Pip fails to be reassured (duh) and I can't blame him as I bite my lip in despair; how had it come to this? How could someone so young look so...so lost and broken? I take a deep breath and open my eyes to see Seanathair leaning toward me.

"Learn what you can about Middle-Earth and the Fellowship while you wait for the beacons. And do not be afraid to do what you know is right, no matter if others would dissuade you." He advices me. I bite my lip again and nod, crossing my arms.

"...Right." Seanathair nods, then looks at the back of Shadowfax's head.

"Ride, Shadowfax!" He calls in a commanding tone like the one he used to cure Theoden. "Show us the meaning of haste!"

"Merry! Winnie!" Pippin calls desperately, as if asking us to wake him up from a nightmare, voice the youngest I've heard him use. I can't help a sob, the tears finally sliding down my cheeks. Beside me, Merry is choking back tears himself. I am shocked when Merry takes off running and even more so when I follow him. I don't know his plan, but I didn't want him to be alone.

Turns out, Merry was heading to a nearby watchtower. Only to literally run into Aragorn along the way.

"S-sorry." Merry mumbles politely before sprinting off again. Aragorn and I exchange a look before taking off after him. I clamber over corners and take the stairs two at a time, narrowly avoiding a collision with a guard on his way up the tower. I apologize over my shoulder and keep moving, calling Merry's name almost in sync with Aragorn. Finally, we stop running on the top of the tower and Merry presses himself against the wall, looking out over Edoras and beyond, watching a lone white figure ride into the distance. "He's always followed me, everywhere I went, since before we were tweens." Merry muses sadly, yet with undeniable fondness. "I would get him into the worst sort of trouble, but I was always there to get him out." Aragorn smiles minutely and places an arm comfortingly around Merry's shoulders as I do the same from the other side, the three of us probably looking like some happy family staring into the sunset for a commercial of some kind. Except we weren't very happy right now, although we were practically family. "And now he's gone." Merry adds, voice wavering close to breaking, "Just like Frodo and Sam." At that, his voice does break, and a single tear slides down his cheek. I hug him closer to me.

"Meh. He's got Seanathair. He'll be alright." I point out with more hope than I feel at the moment.

"One thing I've learned about Hobbits," Aragorn adds "is that they are a most hardy folk."

"Foolhardy, maybe." Merry retorts, managing a small grin at his own quip. "He's a Took." That reminds me of Seanathair's words, but before I can ask about what the frick is going on, Merry and Aragorn turn to me.

"You have been addressing Gandalf by a strange name lately, ever since your conversation during our return to Edoras." Aragorn muses. I flush.

"We-well, it just means 'grandad' where I'm from."

"And is he really your grandfather? Or is he something else?" I swallow.

"I don't know, and neither truly does he, I think. But, actual relation or not, we've started to become almost like grandfather and granddaughter, so why not address him as such, right?"

"And that is why he calls you his child in Elvish." Aragorn says, a declaration of facts. I nod.

"Bin- -yes." I say, remembering that they wouldn't know what 'bingo' is and I was not up to explaining. "Sooo...I take it you heard all that about my coming to Middle-Earth, huh?" Aragorn and Merry nod, but Merry has the good grace to at least look a little sheepish to Aragorn's unapologetic look. I roll my eyes.

"It's relatively hard not to overhear a conversation when you share a horse with one of those involved." Merry mumbles. I nod.

"I suppose. Okay, time for my questions; what or who is Frodo and why does a ring warrant the Voldemort of Middle-Earth torturing a Hobbit like that?" I ask, realizing I was blunt and not caring.

"I am not sure that is the best idea…" Merry started, looking quite out of his depth, looking at Aragorn for guidance.

"No, Merry, it is alright." He says slowly, eyeing me curiously. "May I ask where the sudden curiosity came from?" I nod.

"You may. Seanathair suggested I bone up on my knowledge of...any and everything here, but really I just want to know what this Fellowship is and how a ring plays into it." And from there, I get a different version- -this one more detailed and thankfully more informative- -than the one I'd heard on the way to Isengard. Turns out, in the 'second age' of Middle-Earth, Sauron had made these rings that gave the wearer immense power, but at the cost of him worming his way (much like Saruman and Theoden) into your very soul, twisting it to his wicked, cruel will. Anything to do with Sauron had an unnatural, dark attraction to it, and then Sauron was discovered as a Dark Lord and more or less banished. From there, 'history has lost the tales', but somehow a Hobbit named Bilbo Baggins (Frodo's uncle, apparently) had come across it during an adventure involving thirteen dwarves and a mountain inhabited by a dragon. I vaguely remember that story as the Hobbit, a book my dad had read to us kids many times in my youth. Before he switched jobs and became more distant, travelling nine weeks out of ten, felt like.

Anyway, this Fellowship just sorta...agreed to help this Frodo guy get a big, bad Ring to a place called Mordor (I remember Eomer saying it was the home of Sauron and everything evil under the sun) and destroy it in a volcano that gave off 'the Fires of Mount Doom', which was (of course) the only way to destroy that tiny band of metal.

Boromir, turns out, had died after falling under the Ring's power for a moment and trying to wrest it from Frodo. Upon regaining his senses, Boromir defended Merry and Pippin to his last breath, even though they'd ended up captured anyway. The darkest, gravest look I'd ever seen befell Merry's face at this part of the story. It's clear he suffers from survivor's guilt, same as I had when Theodred...when Theodred couldn't be saved.

"As I told Pippin, you make mistakes, yes, but wallowing in guilt and not moving forward are just as bad. Learn from your mistakes and they won't happen again." I point out, nudging the Hobbit's shoulder before turning to the man beside me. "So, Aragorn, I have an idea." He cocks a brow at me.

"Oh? Do tell."

"Um...I'd like to learn the sword or the bow or both." I confess. "I can't rely on my gun forever and if I run out of bullets in the heat of battle, I need to be able to defend myself." Aragorn sighs.

"Sword and bow take years to master and I fear we do not have the time." I grin.

"Well, it's a good thing my uncle convinced my parents to sign me up for a year of fencing classes, then."

"How would learning to build fences help you learn the sword?" Aragorn asks, genuinely confused. I can't help but laugh.

"No, it's a kind of swordplay." He frowns.

"Let's see it, then." I pale.

"Oh, now? O-okay. Sure." I get up and walk down the tower with Aragorn. Once we're in an open area, he bids me wait for a moment and soon returns with two nicked practice swords. Oh, boy. We were really doing this, huh?

Oh, get over it! I scold myself. You're acting like a child! You wanted to do this, right? Now do it!

So I did.