The part relaying Aragorn and Company's time in the Paths of the Dead greatly follows the book. Some of the dialogue is pulled directly from there, mostly because speeches about oaths and the like are beyond my skill.

Chapter 34: Moving Forward

"That foul, cold-hearted bastard!"

Anamaria broke out of her sulky expression to raise her eyebrows in surprise at her companion's outburst. "I never thought I'd hear you say something like that."

Elizabeth only glared at her before continuing her rant. "I cannot believe he would be so cruel as to leave me behind! I cannot believe that he managed to pull it off! I am not as light a sleeper as Aragorn, of course, but even I would have awoken to all the sounds of preparation they must have made before they left. You woke from the noise, did you not, Anamaria?"

"I did," she said shortly, only half-listening to the other woman's ranting as she swam in her own misery.

"Then why did you not wake me?" Elizabeth demanded. "How could you just sit there, knowing that I wished to go and not-"

"Don't take yer anger out on me; I was left behind too, y' know," the dark-haired woman snapped. The small part of Elizabeth that was not burning with anger noticed that the other woman lapsed into her old speech habits- habits that had slowly died away during their time in Middle-earth- when she was angry. "Besides, I didn't bother to see them off- I didn't know you were still here until ye came by screaming up a storm."

"I have good reason to be screaming up a storm," she shot back defensively. "There is no reason I should have slept in, and there is no good reason as to why I have been left behind! I told Will that I was going whether he liked it or not, and yet he obviously did something to me!"

Anamaria, who was still laying on her bedroll, shrugged. "Maybe he knocked you out o' something."

"Don't be ridiculous, he wouldn't ever hit me," Elizabeth waved the suggestion off, but she then raised her head in sudden realization. "Unless... surely that was just a dream..." She swiftly turned and sprang out of the tent. Anamaria only grunted and turned her back to the tent opening. She had no real desire to listen to the other woman complain anymore; Elizabeth still hadn't even bothered inquiring as to why she was not with the others, too locked up in her melodrama with her husband. She really did not want to listen to her any longer, and hoped that she would go away for a while.

To her chagrin, she did not. But a moment later the woman came back, even more furious than before. In her hand she held a tin cup. "Smell this," she demanded, sticking the cup into Anamaria's face.

"Gah!" she yelled in protest, turning away from her. "I smell it, I smell it! No need to stick the damn thing in me face, you wench!"

Elizabeth ignored her comment. "He drugged me! My husband had the audacity to drug me! I can only imagine where he found... Aragorn! Aragorn gave him drugs to keep me asleep! How dare they! I swear the next time I see them, husband or not, heir to a bloody throne or not, I am going to kill them both! They will have to kill me to prevent it, those damned bastards!"

The woman continued ranting for a couple more minutes until Anamaria finally reached the end of her patience. "Look, you stupid girl," she snarled, "if you haven't noticed, ye weren't the only one left behind. I'm here too! Now why don't you go and moan to someone else and leave me to me own misery!" With that, she turned around and spoke no further.

She bit back the angry retort that immediately came and instead turned as if to leave. She hesitated and glanced back at the other woman lying down, back turned towards her. Her posture was stiff, but Elizabeth instinctively knew that her companion felt just as miserable as she did.

She pushed her anger towards Will and the others aside for a moment and willed herself to calm down. After a moment of silence in the tent, she started quietly, "You are injured, though."

"I can ride well enough," she snapped, but the answer was half-hearted. "Well, I can certainly endure a few rough days," she added.

"Maybe he asked you to stay behind because he cares about your well-being," Elizabeth tried to say as gently as possible.

Anamaria turned around, disbelief written all over her features. "And what do you think was Will's motivation for drugging you, eh? Spite? No, he did it because he loves ye, you idiot. He is so passionately in love with you that it's almost disgusting, and that love made him lose what little sense he had. He would die a million times for you and all ye can do is call 'im a bastard." She turned around once more. "Most women would kill for such a man," she muttered so quietly that Elizabeth almost did not catch it.

She heard the slight longing in the other woman's voice, and her eyes widened in surprise. "You are not in love, are you?" She quickly went through the list of men they knew and found only one man that could even possibly fit with that longing. "It's not Jack, is it?"

The other woman turned around again, this time in shock. "Hell no!" she cried. "Where did you get that mad idea? Granted, he's more sufferable now than he was in the Caribbean, but I'd shoot myself in the leg before calling him anything more than 'captain'. His only true woman is the sea, and always shall be. Nonetheless," she admitted, "being here in this world has shown me that there are decent men, and that men like those in Tortuga aren't as common in the rest of the world- or at least in this world. Men like Aragorn, or old Boromir, or even Éowyn's brother, whatever his name is-"

"Éomer."

"Yea, right, him. They're good men, and there seems to be a decent supply of them in these parts. Settling down doesn't seem as such a bad idea as it did when Tortuga's finest were the only option."

Elizabeth nodded, a small smile on her face. "After all this is over, I wish to settle down someplace with Will." At the thought of Will, her face contorted with disgust and she dropped the cup that she was still holding, a dark frown upon her features. "Never mind about him, I will see him in due time." She sat down, her frown softening as her thoughts went elsewhere. "But, speaking of settling down..." She hesitated, and Anamaria encouraged her to continue with a raised brow and expectant gaze. "Do you think we'll make it back to the Caribbean to settle down?"

The dark woman snorted half-heartedly. "Assuming we win this war," she began, and then hesitated. "If we win, do you really want to go back?"

"Well, of course, my father is there," Elizabeth started, but her voice died. Anamaria nodded knowingly.

"You may have your old man, but I have nothing there. I joined Jack's crew after the whole deal with Barbossa, and the ship was my home. There was some plunder, of course, but... well, after all I've been through these last few months, that plunder doesn't seem as great as it once was. As stupid as it sounds, I've had more happiness from these battles won here with no plunder than any battles that brought riches back home. Besides, there's no guarantee that we'll be able to get back."

"That is true," she muttered. "I suppose living here would not be bad at all; perhaps Lord Elrond would allow me to stay in Rivendell."

"Minas Tirith wouldn't be bad, either," Anamaria said. "I saw a painting of it back in Rivendell and it looked amazing. Aragorn is supposed to be king of it, too, if all goes according to plan."

"Of course," Elizabeth nodded. "Boromir spoke often about the city and seemed to love it. And Aragorn would let us stay there- if I don't kill him first," she muttered darkly.

"Bah, don't think about them," Anamaria commented sourly. "I'm starved. Let's get a bite to eat." She pushed herself into a sitting position and cautiously pulled herself to her feet, her balance shifted to her uninjured leg.

"Look," the other woman started, "they aren't here anymore. You might as well do your leg a favor and use the crutch. It will do it a world of good."

Anamaria muttered under her breath, but at Elizabeth's look, relented and took the crutch with a roll of the eyes. They walked out of the tent to head to the main pavilion where they hoped to find some food and some distraction from their otherwise recurring dismal thoughts.

O0O0O0O

As the Grey Company rode through the mountain pass to reach the Path of the Dead, a dread fell over them. Two of their company, however, thought not about the road ahead of them, but rather the road behind.

A nagging guilt had been plaguing Will ever since he woke that morning to Elizabeth's still form. Her sleep was deep and unnatural, and for half a moment he had contemplated to readying her horse and bringing her along with him until she woke. That thought was quickly banished and he had left his beloved with a simple kiss upon her forehead. He feared, however, that she would not see the reasoning behind his actions.

A fear that he did not yet let enter his heart was that he had made the wrong decision.

Jack, while sorry to see leave his shipmate behind and silent for the first part of the road, soon came to his old self. Whether it was because he had recovered from Anamaria's absence or he was doing it for show was beyond the knowledge of even those who knew him well.

The company passed a few dense, dark fir trees that even Legolas found no comfort in and soon came to a dark opening decorated with strange symbols and cruel-looking caricatures. Jack, who was at the front of the group with Aragorn, Will, and Halbarad, jumped off his very nervous horse and looked the door up and down. "I was expecting something a bit bigger," was his only comment. He shot a side-glance at Nithhad and kept hold of the reins so he would not bolt off.

Will half-heartedly patted Wistan encouragingly; the horse did not seem to register the gesture. "They are very nervous; I don't think they'll go in."

"They will," Elrohir, who had suddenly come to the front, replied.

Halbarad glanced at his chieftain, who had jumped off Roheryn and was staring at the door wordlessly. He shifted his own glance once more to the door and a great dread fell upon him. "This is an evil door," he said, "and I fear my death lies beyond it, but I will dare pass nonetheless."

"Don't be so pessimistic," Jack scolded him, sending Halbarad a meaningful look. "Not very healthy for the company's morale."

Aragorn's kinsman, who was becoming somewhat used to the other man's odd comments and mannerisms, only shot him a sideways glance, but Aragorn's lips slightly twitched. "We must pass," was all he said. "Follow me!" Then with one hand on the hilt of Andúril and the other holding the reins of his steed, the heir of Elendil stepped forward and through the door, and all those present followed him.

In the front of the procession was Aragorn with Elrohir, who bore a torch aloft. Behind them were Halbarad, Jack, and Will, and even the captain was silenced by the sudden rush of chilled air that hit him as he entered. The atmosphere did not keep him silent for long, though.

"Interesting place," he muttered to himself as he glanced at whatever the torchlight illuminated. The captain was fascinated by the fact that, while there were certainly no visible ghosts or walking skeletons, his heart felt as if it wanted to leap out of his throat and murder itself. The feeling was very, very different from what he had experienced with Barbossa's crew- slightly unsettling even to him, but he bore his fear with the usual look of indifference.

Will, too, was surprised by the sudden plunge of deep dread he experienced as he walked through the door, and as he readied his blade for some sort of undead villain to fight, he soon came to the realization that the only thing he had to fight was the unnatural and encompassing terror that had taken a hold of him. He quickly glanced behind him and saw the same fear that he felt reflected in one of the other Ranger's eyes. He was secretly glad that he was not the only one to feel thus, for he could not read Jack or Halbarad's expressions.

After them came the Dúnedain, and at the end of the procession were Legolas, Gimli, and Elladan, holding up another torch. Legolas was completely unaffected by the dread of the dead, for they held no power over the Eldar, and both Elladan and Elrohir, despite their diluted blood, also were not terribly burdened by fear. Gimli, however, had never any encounter with such unnatural occurrences before, and he personally felt that he would drown in the horror that overtook him. He kept walking on, though, for not only his pride and his companions, but also because behind him he began to feel another presence.

They continued for a while, though for how long none could say, for one does not count time in places that the dead live. Jack, however, did not like the unnatural silence at all. "Where are the dead?" he asked, and he was rather disturbed to find that his voice came out much softer than he had intended and that there had been a slight hitch in it. There were few undisputable facts in the world of Captain Jack Sparrow, but one undisputable fact was that his voice certainly did not hitch. He was also disturbed to find that, despite the fact that there were at least five others who heard his voice, not one of them actually answered. Another undisputable fact was that no one had the right to ignore Captain Jack Sparrow.

Clearing his throat, he said again, much louder and smoothly, "Where are the dead?"

Will shot Jack a look that was a mix of incredulousness and annoyance, but the only other response from the group was Aragorn holding up a hand to halt. The narrow path they had been following suddenly widened into a great empty space, and there were no walls on either side of them. Elrohir took a couple steps forward and lit the area around, and a sudden gleam to their left caught Aragorn's eye. Silently beckoning his foster brother over, the two took twenty paces to their left. The others, loathe to become even slightly separated from their chieftain and leader of the company, silently followed.

Jack had seen the gleam, too, and was the first to follow them to the source. When he came close, he saw that it was the remains of a richly clad warrior who fell scratching at what looked to be a door. The man eyed the skeleton's gold and rich jewels for a moment, but did not touch them; he remembered well Barbossa and what happened to him when he meddled with haunted treasure.

Besides, it was only a few jewels. He recalled that they were off to find some corsairs, and if these corsairs were worth any of their salt, they would have plunder. Yes, he could wait.

Aragorn did not touch the remains, but rather stared at it thoughtfully for a moment. He said something quietly in Rohirric to the corpse and then suddenly stood and turned to the empty darkness. "Keep your hoards and your secrets hidden in the Accursed Years! Speed only we ask. Let us pass, and then come! I summon you to the Stone of Erech!"

Neither Jack nor Will quite knew what he meant, but his words had an obvious effect. The nearly silent whispers that only those with the keenest ears could hear suddenly became louder and clear to everyone in the company. The whispers were harsh and in a language known by none in that party, yet they seemed agitated and even angry to the fear-stricken mortals. Suddenly the whispers ceased and a chilling blast burst through the cavern, extinguishing their torches and leaving them in utter darkness. Despite the skills of the Dúnedain and the elves, they could not be rekindled.

Of the remaining march there is little to tell. The Grey Company remained silent. Everyone there knew that this darkness was a test of their will and to fail it would mean their deaths, and so they spent no energy on conversation, but rather focused all of their attention on getting themselves and their fear-stricken steeds out of the dark path and to the open world once more.

And as they continued their march through the Paths of the Dead, a silent but ever-growing presence followed them.

When they finally reached the end of the path, it was two hours past sunset, yet the fresh air and the bright stars were a great comfort to everyone in the company. It was not a moment after their exit when the silence was broken.

"Where the hell are we?" Jack asked. It was Elrohir who answered.

"We are now in western Gondor, in the area known as the Morthond Vale. Minas Tirith still lies ahead many hundreds of miles east."

"Wasn't that path supposed to be a shortcut of some sort?" Will added, and Elrohir's lips twitched.

"Of some sort, but it served a greater purpose than that. Ask no more questions, you will soon see!"

There was little rest after their emergence from the dark path, for Aragorn spurred them forward to the Stone of Erech. The two from the Caribbean soon discovered that this Morthond Vale was home to quite a few people- people, they soon discovered, were farmers rather than warriors, and these farmers were of the sort that screamed very loud and ran very fast.

As the Grey Company and the remainder of the Fellowship rode down from the mountain, the ghostly presence behind them, and Aragorn at the head, the people of the hills only needed to take one look at Aragorn before they began to cry, "The King of the Dead! The King of the Dead is upon us!"

Once this was discovered, this phrase made this trip the beginning of Captain Jack Sparrow's most tiring, yet most amusing adventure thus far in Middle-earth.

"You are making a wonderful impression upon your people so far, o king!" Jack screamed to Aragorn at the front of the procession. The Ranger pretended not to hear him and kept on riding at the same speed, ignoring the screams of the petrified peasants.

Legolas and Gimli, who had made their way to the front of the procession, overheard this comment. Gimli, who disliked spirits even more than before his trip under the mountain, frowned, but the young elf reacted differently. Legolas smiled at the expense of his old friend, and as he had no fear of the dead, quickly took to the jest. "I am afraid he won't be able to come to this part of Gondor again," he added. "They are too afraid!"

"Perhaps he should impale himself just to prove that he is alive?" Jack wondered.

"Why would he do that?" Will jumped into the conversation. "Do you not see the benefits of Gondor's enemies believing it is ruled by one who is dead? They wouldn't dare attack!"

"That is certainly beneficial," Halbarad unexpectedly added. While the others could not see his reaction, a small smile quirked upon the Dúnedain chieftain's lips.

'Trust Jack Sparrow to make light of a serious situation,' he thought.

The conversation, nonetheless, did die as they continued riding. They became as weary as their horses, for there had been little rest that day and they were pressing hard to reach the stone at a decent time.

It was just before midnight that the company came to the Hill of Erech, where at its peak lay the infamous stone. Those that did not know much about it were impressed by the sight, for it was a deep black rock higher than the height of a man, and yet it was obvious that a good deal of it was buried underground. Stars glinted brightly and coldly upon its smooth surface. It was a few feet from the stone that the company stopped.

Elrohir silently gave Aragorn a small silver horn that glinted just as brightly in the starlight, and the Dúnadan gave one long blow into it. It echoed within the tall peaks and deep caverns for miles, and it seemed to all nearby that it was the sound of an army responding to his call.

But suddenly, on the other side of the hill the ghosts became visible to all of them, and the specters stood silently, looking upon Aragorn expectantly. The man dismounted and, standing by the Stone of Erech, called out to them, "Oathbreakers, why have ye come?"

A great voice echoed out into the night in response: "To fulfill our oath and have peace."

Aragorn replied, "The hour is come at last. Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and ye shall come after me. And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and ye shall have peace and depart forever. For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor."

As Halbarad dismounted and unfurled the standard he had brought, Jack muttered to Will, "Think he came up with that just now or had it memorized?"

"I quite honestly cannot tell with him- dear Lord, Jack, are those jewels on that standard?"

"What jewels? I don't see anything but black."

"It was glinting- ah, never mind, it seems dark now. Trick of the eye, I suppose. As it is, it looks like Aragorn is done."

So he was, and the rest of the company dismounted and made ready to rest that night. Will and Jack quickly made their way to Aragorn, who was rolling out his bedroll.

"So we're, eh, staying here tonight, O Dead King?" Jack asked.

Aragorn shot him a blank look before replying. "Yes. I suggest you both rest as much as you are able, for we will leave with the dawn, and there will be little rest until we come to Minas Tirith."

They did as suggested and were soon lying down, but little rest they received, for the presence of the dead haunted all the mortals of the company. The elves stayed up all night on watch, allowing for the weary men to rest as best as they may, for with the dawn would come another long, wearisome ride eastward.

0O0O0O0

Éowyn had not been present for the morning and noon meals, and so Elizabeth and Anamaria were surprised to see her in the dining tent that evening for supper. She beckoned them over to the corner of the long table she sat at and they gladly joined her. A couple higher-ranking soldiers sat in other parts of the large tent, but for the most part the place was empty, for Théoden and his men had yet to arrive.

"Nice to see you, Éowyn," Anamaria said with a genuine grin.

"And you, Anamaria," said the lady with a slight smile. She nodded her head in greeting towards Elizabeth, and when the gesture was returned, she looked back to Anamaria and eyed the crutch she was using. "Has your leg been bothering you?"

"No more than before," she replied, "but since I'm stuck here, I might as well use it."

Éowyn easily noted the bitterness in her friend's voice, and a quick glance at the other woman quickly confirmed what she had suspected that morning. "They left you behind against your will."

"My sorry excuse for a husband drugged me last night," Elizabeth all but growled, the vehemence in her tone surprising the young Rohir shieldmaiden.

"Orders, myself," Anamaria said. "If it were any man but my captain, I wouldn't have followed them."

"What were his orders?" she asked, her tone unusually light.

The dark woman slightly frowned. "Just that I wasn't coming with him and the others."

"He did not forbid you from riding to Minas Tirith, then?"

Anamaria suddenly caught onto the other woman's train of thought, and her eyes sparkled in delight. "He did not- he did not!" Her delight, however, did not go to Elizabeth.

"I haven't spoken much with the king," the glum woman started, "but he seems even less willing than my husband to let Anamaria or me, as women, to go to war- and so it is in our own society. I will not, however, let my husband and my friends go into battle while I am left at home to worry and wait about them."

"So is how I see it," said Éowyn, but she did not clarify the statement. A new light of respect, however, was in her eyes when she gazed upon Will's wife. Their conversation was interrupted by their supper being brought in, and for a while they ate in silence. Near the end of the meal, however, the Rohir spoke again. "Anamaria, I have some skills as a healer, and I will change your bandages. Tomorrow I imagine my lord uncle shall come, and we will likely leave within the next few days. There will be little time for healing, but hopefully it will be enough. You must rest in the short time we have.

"I will speak with my lord concerning your situation, and I may convince him that you both are valuable assets for the battles ahead. If not- well, there are other ways. As it is, I know sooner than most the hour of the day that the king plans to depart, and when I know that hour, I will seek the both of you again. Do not wander far from your tents."

"I will stay then with Anamaria, so you may find us more easily," said Elizabeth, her tone lighter than it was at the beginning of the meal.

"So be it."

After they finished eating, the former pirate saw her wounds tended to by Éowyn, and was glad to see that her arm was all but recovered- whatever Aragorn had done to help it, it worked. Her ankle, to her dismay, was little better, but at the least had not become worse. She hoped that a couple days of rest would help it, and if it did not, she would still be able to ride.

Both Elizabeth and Anamaria slept well that night, more content falling asleep than they were waking up, now that they knew that Éowyn was aiding them in their cause.

The next morning, they were woken early to what sounded like organized chaos. Anamaria made as if to get up, but Elizabeth rolled her eyes and gently, but firmly pushed her back down.

"Stay here- remember your ankle! You cannot ride if you cannot stand."

"Try me."

She rolled her eyes once more. "Please stay- I know Éowyn asked you to rest. I'll see what is happening and tell you right away." Anamaria sighed but gave way, her desire to be well enough to ride to Minas Tirith overtaking her current curiosity.

The sun was just rising as Elizabeth strode out of the tent, surprised by the amount of activity happening at such an hour. A large tent was being erected on one side of the camp, and seeing to it was Éowyn. She waited until the other woman was finished listing off a great deal of instructions to a soldier before grabbing her attention.

"What is all this?" she asked.

"Scouts arrived in camp not too long ago," said the other. "The king and his company shall be here today, in the afternoon or early evening."

"This is his tent, then," Elizabeth commented more than asked. Her companion nodded, and they watched as the final supports were set in and the tent fully erected. Men started to carry in various items into the pavilion, but it was a smaller tent near the large one that caught her attention. "What is that for?"

"His squire, of course," she replied. "The Holbytla, the one you traveled with- Master Meriadoc."

"Merry! Of course!" She could have smacked herself- with all of the events of the past few days, she had forgotten that Merry was left behind with King Théoden. "I need to tell this to Anamaria; she's waiting for me and will likely come out herself if I am not back soon. Thank you for the information!"

"You are most welcome," said Éowyn, a small smile touching her features as she saw the obvious joy the news brought her. "I will have Master Meriadoc visit you as soon as he is able. Do not let Anamaria on her feet- I would rather her eat her meals in her tent today." She lowered her voice. "She will not ride well otherwise."

"I will tell her so. My thanks, again." She quickly left her, returned to her companion and relayed the news to her. Anamaria was just as delighted as she was to the prospect of seeing Merry once more, but the news to keep off her feet the whole day left her glum.

"Alright, alright!" she muttered. "Damn woman. Better watch out once I am on my feet once more."

"'tis Éowyn's orders, not mine," the other retorted with a teasing smile. "And when Merry comes, he'll say the same."

"Wonderful." Her head collapsed onto her pillow as Elizabeth only shook her head and left the tent to grab breakfast for the two of them.

The rest of the day passed slowly as they eagerly awaited the arrival of the king's company and, most importantly, the arrival of the hobbit. Their waiting finally came to a close as trumpets sounded throughout the valley below Dunharrow in the mid-afternoon. Within the hour the party had made their way through the thousands of soldiers stationed there and up to the top of the long, winding path that led to the camp before the path that led to Dwimorberg. While she greatly wished to see the procession arrive, Elizabeth stayed with Anamaria so the other woman would not be tempted to follow. As it was, the person she wished to see most was Merry, and Éowyn had reassured her that she would send him to them once he was available.

It was not too long after the activity in the camp died down when Merry came to them. He quietly called to the women from outside of their tent. "Elizabeth? Anamaria? Are you in there?"

"We're here, Merry!" Elizabeth said, gladness evident in her voice. The hobbit entered the tent and quickly embraced the two women before sitting down.

"Well, you look all good and proper," said Anamaria, glancing over his Rohirric armor with a light smirk. "Is this now your official uniform?"

"Yes! I am the king's squire, if you didn't know," he said proudly. "I won't have much time to chat, as I'm expected to be at his side at dinner."

"Pity," said Elizabeth. "We were hoping to sup with you tonight."

"How was your trip?" Anamaria asked. "Hobbits always seem to be drawing trouble to themselves, if our experience since we left the Shire counts for anything."

"I doubt it's us hobbits- I never had any trouble before having dealings with Mankind," Merry protested playfully. "As it is, the ride was rather slow and uneventful, truth be told. I am more curious about yourselves, though- I thought you would be on those dreadful Paths of the Dead with the others. I was surprised when Éowyn pulled me aside and told me you were both here!"

"We were supposed to be with the others," Elizabeth muttered darkly; the expression upon her face was grimmer than Merry had seen from her in quite a long time. "My husband kept me here against my will, using devious methods to achieve his goal."

"And Jack, for the only moment in his life, cared for someone other than himself and ordered me to stay due to my ankle," Anamaria scowled.

Merry frowned as he listened to them. "That is a rather unfair thing to say about Jack."

"It's bloody well true."

"Well, granted, he is a bit... peculiar," Merry admitted, "but he has been rather helpful."

"I would hardly call this helpful," she snarled at the hobbit. She turned away from him, a scowl deep upon her face.

Merry sighed and turned to Elizabeth, who would surely be more reasonable than the other woman. "I'm sure Will was just concerned for you..."

Elizabeth, despite his beliefs, was not. "He had no right to drug-"

"He drugged you? How?"

"Aragorn!" She did not clarify upon the statement, but Merry could guess what had happened.

"Well- that is rather unfair play- but he wasn't doing it to harm you-"

"The next time I see him, I'll bloody well harm him!" She was sounding very much like Anamaria right now, and the hobbit was not sure if he really liked that.

"Think of it like this," he started, trying a new approach, "at least you don't have to go on the Paths of the Dead! The King, Lord Éomer, and Lady Éowyn seem to think that Aragorn and the rest of them are never going to be seen again."

"They obviously don't know my captain very well," Anamaria scoffed.

"And I've had more experience with the dead than the whole bloody lot of them in that cave altogether!" Elizabeth rebutted.

"Other than Jack," the other woman put in.

"He doesn't count!"

Merry sighed; this conversation had not turned out they way he wanted it to go. Anamaria, seeing his expression, asked him promptly, "How would you feel if you had to stay behind while the king and all the others rode off to war?"

"I can't be left behind!" he immediately protested. "I'm King Théoden's squire! And all of our friends have gone off to battle-"

"And now you know how we feel," Elizabeth interrupted him. "Our only ties to our old world are gone- gone to their deaths, if all these people are right- and we have nothing left. All our friends that we've made in this world are gone, too."

"Yea," agreed Anamaria, "the whole Fellowship has gone off to battle- Jack and Will, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Pippin..."

"Frodo and Sam," Merry added in a whisper. They all fell silent for a moment as the memory of both of the hobbits came to their minds. How long had it been since they last saw them? Were they still even alive? Each of them felt guilty as they thought of them for the first time in days, but Merry felt it especially hard. Frodo was his cousin, and he was carrying a doom greater than all of theirs. The fate of the world still rested with him; Frodo's wellbeing should be on his mind all the time, and if not all the time, certainly not so rarely. "Well," he said, breaking the silence after a moment, "I should be heading back to my tent... dinner should be soon." With that, he stood and left the women without another word. A couple moments of silence passed between the two, both deep within their own thoughts.

"I feel like a walk," Anamaria said suddenly.

Elizabeth thought about protesting for a moment, but quickly gave up on the thought. The woman had been off her leg the whole day; a short stroll would not harm her. "So do I," she finally replied, ignoring the other woman's incredulous look. "Let's walk over to the dining tent and get something to eat."

Without much talk they left their tent and went to grab some food. They immediately noticed how many more soldiers were around Dunharrow, and while they received some questioning looks from the newcomers, they were not bothered.

Dinner was somber in the large dining tent, filled with many more soldiers than the night before, and Elizabeth and Anamaria said nothing to one another as they ate. Near the end of their meal, a small commotion outside of the tent aroused everyone's attention, but it swiftly died and they all returned to their meals.

It was on their way back to their tent that the cause of the commotion was revealed to the women. Éowyn intercepted them, a slight scowl on her face when she saw Anamaria was up, but no words were spoken upon that matter. There were more important things to discuss.

"An errand-rider of Gondor came into the king's tent this night," she said once they were back in the women's tent. "He bore with him the Red Arrow." The other two looked at her blankly, and she smiled slightly. "Forgive me; I forgot you are unaccustomed to our ways. The Red Arrow is a symbol of war; it is what Gondor has sent to us as a call for aid since the creation of this country, and is only used in the most desperate times. It must be a grave situation in Mundburg if the steward sends it to us."

"That's all well and good," said Anamaria, "but what does this have to do with us?"

"My uncle has now decided to leave early on the morrow with the six thousand men here gathered," she replied, "and I did not bring up your situation, for he has already told me that Master Meriadoc will be left behind with me and the lady companions of Lord Aragorn."

"'Lady companions of Aragorn' indeed," Anamaria sneered, rolling her eyes, but in Elizabeth's eyes there was concern.

"Leaving Merry behind? He will be devastated!"

"So I imagine," said Éowyn bluntly. "He does not know this yet. However, six thousand horsemen is a great amount, and blending in with them is achievable."

"Blending in- you do not mean..." Elizabeth trailed off.

"I do. If you are still interested in coming to Minas Tirith, meet me behind the large tent, close to where our horses are tethered, at sunrise. No one will disturb us." With that, she left their tent.

The two glanced at one another. Over the past months they had become closer, being the only two women in a large group of men, and could read each other with relative ease now. Their expressions mirrored one another; they would be well ready to meet Éowyn with the coming dawn.

Unbeknownst to them, the dawn would not come.