Disclaimer: I only own my OCs. The rest belong to either Bethesda or Tolkien.

A/N: Wow... We had hailstones the size of my finger earlier - it looked like snow. Made driving a bit difficult, but overall it was quite amazing.

Big thanks to ROWDYKADEN and slender mane for favouriting/following.

Review Response(s):

Pietersielie: Ooh, yeah. Those two are gonna be so weird the rest won't know what hit them ;) Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration, but still...

Mac Gustah: I liked your poem - it made me laugh when I reached the end bit, so nice one there ;)

jsun25: Yeah, I think orcs are weird, and when they go berserker it's like they're having an out-of-body experience or something. Crazy...

gabiey: Well, here you go! :)

Chapter 38:

King Theoden wore a hard expression when the six warriors entered the main hall of the fortress. A few injured soldiers were being treated, moaning and groaning as the healers darted from patient to patient.

While the others stopped, Alduin and Ira continued walking until they were just a few feet from the King, and then they both slightly bowed their heads to him.

"I believe I owe you thanks," Theoden said, though the reluctance was clear in his tone. "You have saved many lives tonight."

"It was nothing," Ira said with a smile, taking over the talking, as usual. She was far more diplomatic than her husband, who was quick to anger when he had little patience for a subject. And diplomacy was not a strength of his, anyway. "And we would do it again in a heartbeat. This world belongs to those who are free, not those who would enslave any who opposed them." She smirked. "Besides, any friend of the Fellowship is a friend of mine. If you have been deemed worthy by my friends, who am I to say otherwise?"

Theoden stared at her for a long moment. "What is your name, child?"

Ira laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't call me that - I can promise I'm at least ten times your age. And my name is Ira."

Theoden's eyebrows rose. "The Dragonborn?"

Sighing, Ira nodded. "Yes, although I still can't believe that title still applies - I haven't killed a dragon for decades! Centuries, even!"

"The Dragonborn is a creature of legend," Theoden supplied. "And thus most children know of you. It is an honour." He ducked his head.

Ira waved him off. "Don't bother - Talos only knows how long I've been trying to return to some semblance of normalcy." She paused, pursing her lips. "Is there anything I can do to help? The injured? Repairs?"

"Your help will be appreciated wherever it's needed," Theoden replied. "However I think you will be most useful helping to gather the orc bodies. They outnumber us at least fifty to one. It will take a long time for all the bodies to be gathered."

Ira grinned. "I think we can speed things up a little."

Theoden smiled dully. "It would be much appreciated."

...

With the help of the two dragons' large claws, the uruk bodies were gathered in a large pile within the space of two hours, and a quick blast of dragon fire had them burning to ash. By this time the sun was beginning to show its first golden rays over the edges of the valley, and the citizens of Rohan had been ordered to prepare for a long journey back to Edoras. Ira helped when and where she could, but she was not a healer, and she did not know how to help the citizens, as she herself was not a citizen of... well, of anywhere. She moved about, and so she didn't remember how to behave in a place where she belonged. She had no such place to call her own. But one day... One day she might.

"You look as if you've been turned completely back to front," Aragorn said as he moved to stand beside her. His hands were stained with blood - clearly he had been helping out in the healing rooms.

Ira smiled slightly. "A lot has happened since we last saw one another," she said evasively.

"I've noticed - you and Alduin both have been acting strangely. But in a good way - it looks as if something has happened to draw you closer."

The Dragonborn was quiet for a long moment, watching the bustle of families as they scrambled for their things, waiting patiently for the command to leave the fortress. It would not be long now - apparently they waited on the arrival of Gandalf and Eomer, the King's son. "We want to start a family," she said at last, breaking the silence. "Once this is over we're going to just... stop."

Aragorn's eyebrows more or less disappeared into his hairline. "I've never heard you even mention a desire to have children before."

"That's because I've never thought about it before," Ira admitted. "I mean, sure, when I still thought I was mortal I dallied over the idea of finding a husband and birthing my own children, but then the whole 'end of the world' thing came along and after that I gave up on the idea. I adopted two children in the end, thinking I could at least partially make my dream but... before long they aged and withered and died, while I remained like stone - cold and unchanging. After that I promised myself I'd never put myself through the same pain again."

"And then you met him."

Ira smiled. "Alduin and I are both dragons - we are both immortal. So our children would be to. It changed things. Made things easier. Call me selfish but I don't want to have to bear the pain of burying any more of my children."

"That's not selfish," Aragorn muttered. "It's what any man or woman would hope for. Death is never easy. The deaths of those who died before their time is even harder."

"It's funny," Ira said distantly, watching a little girl chase after an older woman with a shining red apple in her little palm, "the thought of those I love dying is terrifying and painful, but at the same time I would never wish immortality upon them. It seems as if we can never be happy either way."

"Immortality certainly seems to have its drawbacks."

"Especially if most of the people you know are mortal," Ira added with a grim smile. "I've seen many generations come and go in my life - after I lost the first few friends to old age I stopped making so many. It doesn't make it much easier, though."

A horn suddenly echoed throughout the valley, bouncing off the mountain walls. Everyone collectively moved to look at the borders of their refuge, where an army of several hundred - if not a thousand or two - horsemen were parading into the valley. At their head, atop a gleaming white horse, was none other than Gandalf. To his left was a broad-shouldered man with a helmet and long tresses of blonde hair, and to his right was the lithe, elegant form of a woman, whose red hair shone like fire in the morning sunlight.

"Eleniel," Ira breathed.

Aragorn smiled encouragingly at her. "Go," he said. "I've no doubt you're the first of us she'd like to see."

Ira grinned at him, before running up to the tallest set of battlements. Everyone stopped and stared as the woman raced past, then flung herself over the edge. With no pain or pause her body shifted and Ira took to the air as a dragoness once more. The Rohirrim army paused in its march, though no arrows were loosed or even drawn.

The front three riders moved ahead to meet Ira as she landed heavily before them, unable to resist the urge to stretch to her full height and taking pleasure in how the sight caused many faces to drain of blood.

"It would seem Fankil is vanquished," Gandalf declared grandly, looking up at her with that familiar glint to his eye.

"And it would seem you are too great for death," Ira retorted calmly, smirking at the surprised man at his side. "And you must be Eomer, the nephew of King Theoden. I have heard many things about you."

"And I you," he replied warily. "Though to see you with my own eyes is very different to hearing about you from the experiences of another." Here, he glanced at Eleniel, who had by this point dismounted her horse and had an expression of impatience on her face.

Ira chuckled at her goddaughter's frustration and shifted back. Before she could even regain her bearings a light, lithe body barrelled into her. Laughing again, Ira stumbled back a step to ensure she didn't fall over, and then eagerly returned the tight embrace.

Eleniel pulled away, the relief on her face taking Ira by surprise. "I spent the whole time you were gone thinking I was never going to see you again," the young elleth said, answering Ira's unspoken question.

Ira smirked. "You should know better than to doubt me, Eleniel."

Eleniel gave her a flat look. "How many times did you nearly die?"

"Now why would you-"

"Ira."

Ira chuckled. "You're like a scolding mother sometimes - I'm five and a half centuries older than you, it really should be the other way round." She sighed. "Well, we were attacked by orcs in the Greenwood and again on the way to Erebor. We were then attacked by Easterlings about half way between Erebor and the Iron Hills, followed very quickly by a bunch of mutated orcs who then kidnapped me. Then there was the time when I was set alight by magical blue flames. So that's... five times."

"You forgot the time when you fell off a bridge in Erebor," Alduin said, suddenly appearing beside her and making Ira jump.

Ira shrugged. "Didn't even get scratched."

"You did almost get killed though," the dragon pointed out. "You got lucky, is what happened."

Once again, the Dragonborn shrugged. "I had faith."

Alduin rolled his eyes. "Your so-called faith almost failed you."

Ira's eyes narrowed, completely forgetting their conversation had an audience. "What do you mean?"

"My Father visited me while you were sleeping the night after it happened," he told her. "He said they had only barely managed to gather enough power to make you shift. Do you know how far you'd been from the ground when you'd shifted?" Wordlessly, Ira shook her head. "Eight metres."

Ira knew she had been close to death that day, but she had no idea she was that close. For a moment, pain filled her as she thought of all she would have missed out on. What she might still miss out on. For the first time in her life, Ira felt the price she could possibly have to pay simply because of her recklessness. Her eyes began to itch, and she glanced up at Alduin and spoke two words that meant more than they seemed to at surface level. "Forgive me."

Alduin shook his head and took her face in his hands. "There is nothing to forgive," he told her, placing a chaste kiss on the crown of her head. "Just don't do that to me again."

Ira let out a dry chuckle as she was pulled into a warm embrace. "No promises," she replied, mainly because she knew that some habits were incredibly difficult to grow out of.

It was then that she remembered the army of men before them, and she turned her head without pulling out of the embrace to see Eomer looking a little awkward, while Gandalf and Eleniel were both smiling. Gandalf's smile, however, was twisted more into a smirk, and Ira shot him a look. He knew something the rest of them did not.

"What happened to you two?" Eleniel asked, that smile still present. "You're the same yet at the same time... so different."

"A lot can happen in the space of a few weeks," Alduin said, letting go of Ira, only to then slide his arm down her body until it sat at her waist, holding her gently against him.

Gandalf chuckled. "More so than you can imagine," he said, and Ira frowned. She wasn't sure if he was directing that at Eleniel or Alduin. That knowing smirk was still present.

"Alright, Gandalf," she said sternly. "You know something. What is it?"

He chuckled again. "Ah, but that would be telling."

Ira groaned. "Wizards," she muttered under her breath. She then turned to Eomer, whose expressionless face was back. "Well, I do believe your uncle wishes to see you."