Cappoquin's Calling – Well allow me to say it is an honor to be one of your first subscriptions. I'll try not to let you down! Honestly, you give the best praise for a story ever! I'm soo glad that you like this story.

Linde – Thank you dear! It seems like a lot of stories are just the same ol thing since changing anything in the LOTR fandom is a weighty decision indeed. I'm glad that you enjoyed it!

AN: Ok, I had to really force myself to sit down and write. But with my new job and all it's hard to find time and a couple of my fingers are swollen up painfully due to an allergic reaction. (Boo hoo) This is more of a basic chapter, mainly there just to push the plot onward. No epic Orc battle today! Maybe next time. (Wink wink.)

In only a hour or so the sun will have disappeared beyond the horizon, and the whole of Rohan will feast in honor of the dead.

I don't feel much like celebrating.

I am in my given chamber in the Golden hall, my head held firmly in my hands from where I sit upon the bed. I knew it was a bad idea to sleep, but like the fool I am, I did. Nightmares plagued my sleeping mind. Dreams of war, dreams of death.

Dreams of failure.

Tired of such dreary thoughts, I jump to my feet and throw on the gown Eowyn left for me to wear, going quickly to the main hall. I needed a drink of something stronger than water.

I am so caught up in my own mind that I do not watch where I walk, and walk right into Eomer's massive chest. I begin falling towards the floor from the impact, but Eomer's hand wraps around my wrist, heaving me back to my feet with a laugh.

"Lady Neveil. I never thought I'd see the day that I would knock you off your feet." The man teases flirtatiously. I shake my head at his antics, continuing on my path to the main hall, but Eomer follows after, walking slightly sideways so he can face me as I walk.

"The garb of a lady suits you well." He comments, looking at the gown. I give a sly smile. "I didn't realize that you had such an interest in ladies wear." I tease and Eomer chuckles, before holding his arm to me. I raise an eyebrow at the gesture, but take his arm none the less as we finally enter the hall.

The main hall is quite full; a hum of many conversations is in the air but is subdued, signifying the event had yet to begin. See my companions near some very large barrels of what I assume is mead. I smile inwardly. The odds of me getting that drink were looking better all the time. I notice Legolas looking up to see our arrival, he smiles when he sees me, but it almost seems to falter when he sees Eomer has my arm.

The king stands before the host of men, looking somewhat somber. But when his eyes land on his nephew, his eyes dart down to the arm holding mine, and I see a glint enter his eye. It only lasts a moment though as he calls the room of people to attention, lifting a mug of ale. Eomer lets go of my arm at this point to grab a mug for himself to lift.

"Tonight we remember those who spilled their blood. Hail to the glorious dead." He says solemnly and clearly, and together all in the room lift their mugs, and with a chorus of "hail's" the crowd disperses to do what they will, and I move over towards my companions a small smile on my face.

Legolas smiles at me while Aragorn hands me a mug of ale, which I gratefully accept.

"It has bee a while since I've seen you in a gown." Legolas comment while I take a drink of the sweet liquid.

"And with good reason!" Gandalf says in a joking manner, suddenly appearing at Aragorn's side while Gimli runs off to pester Eomer about something.

"Ladies have enough trouble with their gowns on a good day, much less a battle." I comment.

"What of Arwen? I have seen her both fight and ride in her gowns." Aragorn says, pushing the conversation yet forward.

"And for that she has my respect to be the exception to such a rule!" I say with a smile. And Aragorn grins, probably thinking of his love.

"Excuse me lass." Gimli says, brushing past me, grabbing hold of a surprised Legolas's arm, pulling him away to where I see Eomer and some other men setting out mugs of ale on a table. Curious, I wander over. Abandoning Aragorn and Gandalf to do what they will.

"No pauses. No spills." Eomer instructs the Dwarf and Elf as he hands out the mugs and then went to lean on one of the wooden kegs of ale.

"And no regurgitation." Gimli added in with a laugh, clueing me in that this was infact, a drinking competition.

"So it's a drinking game?" Legolas inquires in a blunt manner.

"Last one standing wins." Gimli says simply with a grin before he grabs up a mug, chugging down the ale enthusiastically. I watch the game with amusement as the mugs begin to pile up on the table. While Legolas continues to drink seamlessly and neatly, not a hair out of place Gimli begins looking a unsteady as he continues to drink.

"It's the Dwarves that go swimming with little, hairy women!" Gimli crys out just as I'm takeing a drink out of my own mug, almost causing me to choke from holding back laughter.

"I feel something. I slight tingle in my fingers." Legolas said suddenly, holding his hands up to his eyes worriedly, paying no attention to the absolutely slobbering drunk Gimli on his left. Eomer's eyebrows raise, most likely surprised to see the Elf finally having any reaction at all after all of the ale he had drunk.

"I think it's affecting me." He says gravely with wide eyes. With a wide grin I give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"You see!" Gimli slobbered out. His eyes totally unfocused. "He cant hold his liq-" Before he can finish, Gimli's eyes roll back into his head, and the Dwarf's chair tips over, spilling the passed out Dwarf onto the ground.

"Game over." Legolas declares with a smirk, and with a sigh I move over to the Dwarf, pushing him back into his chair while he remains blissfully unaware.

"Its not like the Elf would do it. Hes probably still too concerned about his tingling fingertips. This causes a smirk to spread across my face as I imagine Legolas staring worriedly at his fingertips for the rest of the night.

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As the merriment continues into the night, I begin to feel restless. Apprehensive even. The room suddenly feels all too crowded. I quickly make my way out onto the stone balconies of the Golden hall, desperate for air.

The cool breeze of the night air sweeps my gown around my feet and hair about my head. I take a deep breath, feeling some of my tension ease. I stare up into the night sky, trying to find my future in the stars. But all there is points of light. Places with no fixed place or end. I wont find my future here. But isn't that how it should be? Would I really want my fate written out in the sky, impossible for me to stray from the path set out for me?

My hands curl into fists at my side and I glare up at the skies. No, I will not be a plaything of the fates. I am the main character of my own story. No one else's.

"Something is troubling you."

I look up, seeing Legolas approaching me with a concerned expression. He places a hand on my shoulder, and I note how warm it is through the fabric of my gown. I let out a sigh, sagging from some unseen pressure.

"I feel apprehensive, yet I do not know why. Do not trouble yourself with my worries." I try to brush off his worries. Legolas shakes his head.

"Mellon Nin." He sighs. "Give me more credit. I am neither blind nor uncaring to your troubles." And too my utter surprise, the Elf pulls me into an embrace.

My eyes widen as he holds me, my hands limp at my sides from surprise. The logical part of me is screaming. 'Too close! Too close!' That I can't afford deep connections. While the other part of me is simply inclined to whisper. 'This is…nice.' Carefully, I allow my arms to rest against his shoulders, relaxing in the embrace.

"Will you not tell me?" He asks quietly, and I ease out of his arms. With a tired sigh, I run my hand through my hair worriedly.

"If I knew exactly what the problem was myself I would tell you." I say tiredly, leaning up against the stone wall.

"I fear for the future, I'm worried of how the Hobbits will perceive me now that I have rejoined with you." My shoulders sag. "I'm afraid I won't be strong enough."

"Your strong Neveil!" Legolas exclaims, taking my hand into his two. "I doubt there is any who could profess to have lived through and overcome what you have. The future is what it is and as for the Hobbits, I am sure that they would welcome you with open arms. They were so somber after your leaving." Legolas smiles. "Some may call them too trusting and naïve, but they certainly know a friend when they see one."

Legolas pats my hand. "You are anything but weak my friend."

"Thank you. It is not often I doubt my own abilities, but it is always good to hear some reassurance." Here I take my hand from his. "But now I believe I shall retire. Wars and quests seem to take all of my energy." I joke lightly with a wink, before turning and heading back to my chambers for some well deserved rest.

AN: A rather abrupt end, but you know… I've noticed a lack of constructive criticism on this story. Don't be afraid to offer up your opinions and comments guys! I won't bite your head off, that's what praying-mantis/human hybrids are for. RR