"Words do not express thoughts very well. They always become a little different immediately after they are expressed, a little distorted, a little foolish." - Herman Hesse

To her mounting horror, Lyra found that the herald who declared their arrival possessed a very carrying voice. Her relief as they stepped through the gates had been quickly replaced by the announcement that in fact, resonated over the entire breadth of Helm's Deep and all that lived within.

It was only a few moments before she found herself at the center of a sea of faces and bodies, eagerly pushing forward to catch a glimpse of the two that in their minds, had returned from the dead.

But there was one face in particular that stuck out to her. Maybe it was because he stood taller than the rest or perhaps it was the distinctly inhuman way he wove through those around him.

But Lyra didn't think so.

Instead, she reasoned, her mind had latched onto his image because he looked very, very angry and not at all happy to see Aragorn.

Or rather, to see her.

Hesitantly, she dismounted, whispering words of praise and the promise of oats into Brego's ears when she noted the weary droop of his eyes. Guards rushed forward, readily helping to pull Aragorn from the saddle. Lyra simply nodded her thanks, more focused on remaining upright. Her legs and arms were left numb as she shivered in the sudden absence of body heat.

"Go on." She encouraged him, "I'll find Gimli and Legolas." She said, worrying her lip at the prospect and valiantly trying not to stare at one elf flitting his way through the onlookers. For all her time spent dreading this moment, she had failed to prepare a worthwhile excuse.

"I'll find you after." He promised before leaving her with a gentle pat on the shoulder. Given her current relationship with Théoden, she trusted the news of impending doom would be taken better coming from another. She hadn't had the courage to tell Aragorn the entire truth- only that she and the king had a bitter disagreement- and luckily, he had either been too tired or kind to push the subject further.

"You stupid, stupid child." Were the words that greeted her when Legolas finally reached her side. And just like that, the fatigue that clouded her mind and slowed her movements fell away. Acting on pure instinct and feeding the flare of anger that sputtered to life inside her, Lyra turned, searching for an exit. Before she could take a single step, her arm was yanked back with a savage pull.

"Let go of me." She growled, forced to face him. But it was no use. His grip on her arm was iron and instead of releasing her, he pulled her closer still.

"Do you know what could have happened to you?" He hissed, gripping her jaw with his fingers, pulling her forward until she was forced to stand on her toes.

"I could have died." She snarled, taking into no account the men who were mulling around, shooting curious glanced between the two arguing elves. "I could have died. Not you. What I do with my life is none of your business."

"It is my business." He growled, blue eyes turning into shards of ice even as his hot breath fanned her face.

She gaped at him and even though he looked surprised at his own words, he gave no inclination to take them back. Or to release her. A distant heat fettered through her veins, burned where his fingers held her chin.

"Did we not just have a conversation about trusting each other?" He asked, gentling. Lyra felt a shudder run through her as his thumb unconsciously traced a small circle against her skin.

Flustered by the sudden change in his demeanor, she fought to retrace her train of thought. "Yes we did, but-"

Bristling at her seeming lack of cooperation, he stiffened once more, "And you leave and go off alone-"

"But I-"

She saw, or rather felt, the muscles underneath his skin quiver. "Without telling anyone. Most of all me. Or Gimli." He added as a second thought.

"You should be thanking me." She was finally able to sputter out.

"What?" He stilled, and that moment was all it took for her to take one stumbling step backwards. Without his hands holding her in place, a strange sense of vertigo left her thoughts and body jumbled.

Ignoring the peculiar urge to touch where his fingers had been, Lyra gulped and pressed on, "I brought Aragorn back."

"You could have been killed in the process." He seemed to be restraining himself with a great amount of difficulty.

"But I wasn't!" she shouted, "Besides, I don't need your permission." She added, just to further prickle his already irritated disposition.

"This again?" he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"What's going on here?" A voice behind her interrupted, effectively shattering the growing intensity. Both she and Legolas glanced back to find Linus looking decidedly displeased.

"This is none of your concern." Legolas dismissed him easily.

"My sister is my concern, more so than yours. My concern, my responsibility." Linus scowled, his handsome face turned colder.

"We take care of Lyra, ever since Rivendell. We all took an oath." Legolas pointed out, quick to include the dwarf who had just arrived.

Unlike Legolas, Gimli was clearly pleased to see her as his wide smile and telling laugh proved.

"Never doubted you for a second lass. Heard from the guards that Aragorn is back. Well done indeed." He clapped her on the back roughly, making her stumble a little under its force.

"Gimli, we are not here to congratulation Lyra on her stupidity." Legolas aimed a heated glare the dwarf's way.

"If I seem to remember correctly, my sister has been nearly killed at least a dozen times with you. Doesn't sound like the safest place to me." Linus said, looking pleased with himself despite the gravity of his words.

"Linus." Lyra chastised.

Legolas' hand tightened around her wrist but before he could retort, Gimli stepped in, looking apologetic nonetheless. "Listen here laddie, that wasn't our doing."

"It was your father's." Legolas snapped.

"Legolas, we're twins. Whatever you say about his father…" Lyra shrugged ruefully, giving another tug on her wrist.

"That man has nothing to do with you." He told her, with so much force that she flinched before he turned his gaze back to Linus. "Besides, you were in that cell with her. I don't see that did her any good." His words had become uneven, desperate in a way. "The state she was in when we found her-" he broke off, taking heavy breaths.

"I'm right here!" Thoroughly irritated, Lyra couldn't help but shout. All three turned to face her then, shocked into silence. And in that moment of brief silence, Lyra's stomach chose to let loose a loud growl of hunger. Placing her hand over it almost protectively, Lyra felt her flush of irritation transform into one of embarrassment.

"You're hungry." Legolas noted, almost surprised, finally deigning it appropriate to release her.

"Are you going to yell at my stomach for making noise without your permission?" She asked, turning away. The smell of bread swirled lightly through the air, teasing her senses. She took a few steps, following the scent and came to an abrupt halt. Only a step behind her, Linus, Legolas, and Gimli also paused. Waited. She felt her eyebrow give an involuntary twitch.

"You two aren't invited." She pointed a finger first at Legolas and then Linus. The former rolled his eyes and the latter frowned. "Gimli can come with me though." She fought a smirk as the dwarf puffed out his chest and gave the two elves a meaningful look before following after her.

"We're not done discussing this." Legolas called, looking disgruntled to be left behind with Linus.

"Find me when you're feeling more reasonable." She yelled back, throwing him a scowl over her shoulder.

To her surprise, Gimli was quick to defend the elf in his absence. "He was worried about you lass. You're constantly disappearing. As soon as he has you safe, you're off again."

"Why does he care?" She demanded, despite knowing deep down that she was being unfair. Together, they wandered through the Keep, Lyra following her nose and Gimli happy to trail behind, especially given the promise of food. "If anyone has the right to be overprotective, it should be Linus."

"I don't think brotherly protection is quite what's plaguing the prince." Gimli fought back a smirk.

"What then?" She cocked her head at Gimli, puzzled by the way he refused to meet her eyes.

"Well he-"

"What Gimli?" She prompted when the dwarf simply twiddled his fingers under his long beard and turned a delicate shade of pink.

"Bah, nothing. I'll let you two figure it out. None of my concern."

"Let us figure what out?" She whined and threw her hands in the air. Mainly so she wouldn't do anything foolish. Like try to strangle Gimli.

"I've never met such blind fools. Vision like a bird but you can't see what's right under your noses."

"I resent that." She growled, leaning back and folding her arms over her chest. To Gimli, she looked like she might never unfold.

"It looks as though our good fortune has run out." Gimli said, eyes fixed on something behind her. She was struck, completely transfixed by the sight that greeted her. "More elves." Gimli said, sounding thoroughly disheartened.

So intent on the strange way Gimli had been acting, she hadn't even heard the company of elves arrive. Sunlight glistened off their armor just as brightly as their golden hair. Not many, including Lyra, were able to disguise their fixation on the warriors. Surrounded by humans, their willowy grace was even more apparent.

She didn't have time to feel self-conscious of her disheveled appearance before a deep voice with a familiar accent called to her.

"Haldir!" She grinned at the towering Marchwaden and stomped his way purposefully, leaving Gimli to mumble things under his breath.

"Hello." She greeted him with a smile, took in the sturdy incline of his shoulders, the healthy glow of his skin. "I hadn't hoped to see you so soon."

"My lady." He gave her a small bow and an easy smile tugged at his lips. "Has there been an attack?" His eyes turned concerned as they grazed over her.

"Huh?" She followed his eyes downward; realization flooded her as she picked at Aragorn's blood from the sleeve of her shirt.

"Not really. Aragorn and I just got back." She said, feigning innocence and giving what she hoped was a careless shrug of her shoulders.

"Back from where?" He asked, all unwavering interest. She bit her tongue and fought the urge to scowl at his curiosity.

In reply, she waved her hand over the general area beyond the gate.

"What were you doing out there?" He inquired, with what she suspected was a trace of amusement.

"Oh you know…" Lyra trailed off, a little cowed under Haldir's scrutinizing gaze. If it were Legolas, she could just tell him to mind his own business. But this was Haldir and Haldir was nothing if not intimidating.

And then something over Haldir's shoulder caught her attention, saved her from a painful confession. She blinked and stared dumbly, frozen for a moment before breaking out into a run.

"Elrohir! Elladan!" She yelled, giving her brothers just enough time to turn and catch her as she all but tackled them. Her feet hung several inches from the ground as her brothers embraced her with laughter. "I've missed you two so much!" Her fingers dug into their back with bruising force but neither complained, even when her attempt to hug them both at once knocked their heads together.

She was quivering with the force of her emotions when they set her back on her feet.

"Look at our little sister- a warrior now." Elrohir noted, turning her this way and that to study the bow at her back.

"Legolas gave it to me." She said, standing a little taller, holding her head a little higher.

"Really? That was…kind of him." Elladan remarked, not looking at all pleased.

"How is Arwen?" She asked, the words tumbling out in a frenzied rush.

Elrohir's features darkened and he chanced a glance at Elladan. "Our sister is strong. She is- holding on."

"She'll be fine after we win the war, when Aragorn is back with her." Lyra told them with all seriousness, almost daring them to contradict her certainty. But neither did. Instead they smiled and nodded.

"And father." She swallowed her nerves down. "How is he?"

"Very worried about you."

She scuffed the tip of her feet in the ground. "I suspected he might be disappointed when I didn't remain in Lothlorien as planned."

"I don't know if disappointed is the right word for it." Elrohir gave a mischievous grin and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Lady Galadriel must have said something to him." Lyra began to chew her fingernail. "How angry are we talking about here? I tracked mud all over the house angry or stealing father's 500 year old wine and drinking it all angry?"

Elrohir coughed a laugh while Elladan seemed to consider her question. "Actually, it's a whole new level, quite spectacular to witness. Congratulations sister." He clapped her on the back as she paled, feeling sick to her stomach.

"Oh." She said weakly. Her attention was pulled back to the present when the weight of a stare burned her neck. It wasn't difficult to catch Linus' attention as he had been watching them from the corner of his eye.

"I want you guys to meet someone." She forced what she hoped was a believable smile on her face. No time like the present. She beckoned Linus forward with a small wave.

"Who's that?" Elladan asked, his eyes narrowing, taking in all the undeniable similarities between the two.

"My brother."

For the first time in her life, Lyra was witness to the twins struck dumb. In the silence, she could almost catch a glimpse of the chaotic clamoring of their minds. All in all, Lyra found the experience to be oddly satisfying.

Lyra pressed her fists against her forehead and released a heavy sigh that echoed in the emptiness around her. The meeting between her brothers and Linus had gone exactly as she expected it to. Linus had remained resolutely distant, while the twins had been far too intense in their attentiveness. It was with a deep feeling of relief when Elrohir and Elladan had been called away with Haldir. She chose that moment to make her escape, disappearing into the first empty room she could find. She just needed to think, try to make sense of the past few days. The past few weeks if she were being honest.

Her goal may have been using the solitude to come to grips with the past but all she found herself able to do was lean against the wall and sink to the floor in a jumbled heap. She was so tired, which in itself was a blessing. She was too tired to think about what the immediate future would bring. Too tired to even manage worrying, something that recently had become almost second nature. Too tired to do anything other than stare at the wall opposite her and watch the shadows that stained it grow longer.

The unexpected peace of the moment was fragile, and she wondered what would shatter it first. The past several days had passed in a constant whirlwind of emotions and now, time had left her numb, as if everything had been flushed from her system.

It was nice in a way, calming. She leaned back against the wall, closed her eyes, felt the distant pull of sleep. The noise of the Keep and everyone within it dwindled to a hum, muffled by the thick blocks of stones that separated them.

She didn't hear the door creak open or the hesitant footsteps that paused near where she sat.

"Lyra." Strangely enough, her name was all it took, one word full of everything that remained unsaid. He knew; she could feel it. No doubt, Théoden had woven his lies, painted her as a monster. A traitor.

She felt her legs move, felt them wobble as she pulled herself to her feet, forced her eyes to meet his. In the stillness of the moment, she heard his heart beating, saw the thrust of blood that pulsed through his veins.

"You said you would fix my arm." Aragorn gestured to his still bloody shoulder as proof.

Out of everything, that had not been what she expected.

She blinked, shutting her mouth with an audible snap. "There are actual healers here."

"I know. I'm one of them." He cocked his head to the side, confused. "You did promise this morning."

"Well I was only saying that to make you feel better." She said, caught somewhere in between exasperation and disbelief.

He gave a small bark of laughter before dropping down on the bench she had just vacated with a sigh. "I trust you to do it." Without another word, he thrust a small leather pouch in her hands. Peering inside, she found meager contents that included only a needle, bandages, and a long spindle of string.

She settled beside him, glared hard at the wound on his arm and desperately wished she had paid more attention to lessons in Rivendell other than swordplay. More specifically, what to do after the battle was finished.

"Staring at it's not gonna fix it." The ranger watched her from the corner of his eye, appraising.

She took the needle in her hand to discover it was trembling. With a great deal of effort, she fished the thread through the minuscule eye and turned her body to face his.

"Whew." She wiped at her forehead, already exhausted. "Okay, how do I do this?" She asked, gesturing at the mess of torn flesh. The bleeding had almost fully stopped but thin red rivulets still seeped whenever he pulled at the skin.

"Have you never stitched someone before?" He asked.

She looked up at him with wide eyes and seemed to shrink away. "No."

"Oh." His eyebrows rose in obvious surprise, "I would have thought with your brothers..."

"As if they would let me near them with one of these." She replied, holding the needle up to the light and examining it in a considering fashion.

"Well, at least you're learning." He said, looking as if he was beginning to regret his decision.

"My willing test subject." She smirked, gently wiping at the flesh, brushing away the dirt and grime and small pebbles that had lodged themselves inside.

The first insert of metal through skin seemed to hurt her as much as him. She winced every time he did and demanded over and over that he find someone else.

"I'm going to mess it up." She whined, clamping her fists tightly in her lap and fought down the slippery knots that clenched and released in her stomach.

"Don't think you can much." He said, not entirely without humor. His sarcasm did exactly what it was intended to do- released the pressure that Lyra hadn't even been aware weighed between them. A more comfortable silence descended, the only sound her fingers gliding over his skin, gradually pulling it all back together.

"It's been a long journey." Aragorn noted. Even without the sleepy rasp that enveloped his voice, the way his eyes struggled to remain open betrayed his exhaustion.

"That it has." She agreed, not really paying attention, more concerned with the pulse of his blood, the wetness that spread onto her hands. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, pulled the string taut, brushed the scattered drops of blood away. Repeat. Again. Repeat.

"I want you to know-", he began, staring at the top of her head as she began to wrap his arm in a clean cloth, "that I trust you just as much as when we left Rivendell. Maybe even more." When her movements froze, she felt him shift, grow stiff, "For what it's worth."

For a second, her voice stuck in her throat, hollow and nonexistent before she swallowed and found the strength to respond, "It's worth a great deal." The words sounded fuzzy to her ears, as if they were coming from a great distance off. The pressure behind her eyes threatened tears but she swallowed them down.

Wiping her hands on her pants left bloody imprints but she didn't even notice. The smile she offered Aragorn wasn't forced at all.

Nether was the one he gave in return.

And in that moment, they could almost forget about the army marching their way, the forces that dwindled their own.

Almost push away the crushing responsibility of reality that lay on their shoulders.

Almost.

But in that single moment, almost was enough.

A huge thank you to everyone who left me a review on the last chapter. The kind things you guys say about my story always leaves me floored and really keeps me motivated to update.