Hi Everyone! Thanks again for all the support. I'm enjoying this immensely. I have continued to take my own creative liberties with the characters for my own enjoyment and hopefully yours as well. Thank you to all the readers and reviewers out there. Enjoy!

Bent over at the knees Gimli breathed in deeply and tried to gather his strength. The wretched Orcs, such vile creatures, had ransacked what little forces the Rohirrim had left. Scattered now, the lot of them, all across the countryside. There hadn't been enough men to defend the mountain fortress when their march had begun and now they were left with just a few dozen men. It wouldn't be long before the boys and woman folk were forced to take up arms. This was a journey doomed from the beginning.

He took another deep breath and scanned his surroundings. The last of their enemy lay dead or bleeding. Skewered by swords and pikes and crushed under the weight of his axe. He grinned as he passed the smoking carcass of a wolf and rider knowing his feisty red headed friend had made the kill. Clean through the eye on both accounts. Nat was a handy woman to have at your back.

Their job, for today, was done.

He saw her gun first. Abandoned on the ground. His breath caught for a moment, stalled in his chest. Surely, she couldn't have been so careless.

No, she must have dropped it in the fray.

"Natalia!" He called. He searched for her, the elf and Aragorn. Would she have been so careless as to lose her weapon? He easily spotted the pointy eared princeling's blonde head by the cliff. Legolas was looking intently over the edge, searching the raging river below. It was then Gimli took in the scene at the elf's feet. Her knife protruded abruptly from the ground. Skid marks and blood coated the jagged rock and brittle grasses. He raced to the elf's side knowing exactly what had befallen his friends and why Legolas was so intent on the river below.

"They've fallen. The both of them...She was the last to go over." The elf searched the ground, in a crouch he bent down to the shallow gouges grooved into the land's surface. His fingers followed the bloody contours of the markings and he noted how the width of it nearly fit his own hand. Fingers had done this? Impossible. Her human hands had indented into stone. How was that possible? He met the dwarf's weary eyes, sadness at the loss of their mutual friend weighed heavily between them. "She tried to save them both...She fought hard for our friend."

The dwarf bent down and pried the tip of her knife from the ground where she'd managed to wedge it between a crack in the stones. The blade fell into his hand with a slight touch. It had been impossibly close to falling free. He palmed it, turning the blade over in his hands before tucking it into his own belt. They could yet be alive, the pair of them, two of the most stubborn people he'd ever met.

A sudden impulse had him reaching up behind his ear and tapping the device she'd put on him. A strange thing but it's value now could not be measured.

"Natalia." He said quietly, keeping in mind his tone. He'd learned just how sensitive the device could be. "Natalia." He said again, his voice gruff with the sorrow in his heavy heart at the loss of his friends. He focused on the device, listening carefully for any hint of a sound but heard nothing besides the thumping beat of his own heart and the quiet hum of silence.

There were lips on hers, warm and soft. Open mouthed, a warm rush of air hit her lungs. Nat coughed heavily and with it came full consciousness. Hands turned her gently on to her side as water was forced from her stomach and lungs. Someone was holding her hair and thumping her on the back as she continued to heave any trace of river water from her insides. Struggling she pushed herself up onto all fours as her stomach, now empty of water, gave a dramatic dry heave.

A melodic but distinctly male voice spoke softly to her. The accent was unrecognizable to her foreign ears. Sitting back on her haunches Nat looked up at her rescuer through bleary, heavily watering, eyes.

"Where am I?" She asked as his silver blonde hair and high cheek bones came in to better focus. "Legolas?" She asked as she rubbed the water clear of her eyes. His voice and hair had her momentarily deceived.

He crouched down before her, definitely not Legolas.

His hair was much lighter, almost a white blonde. He had brooding heavy brows and angular features that perhaps on anyone else would have looked harsh but given the striking nature of his hair and vibrant electric eyes his other features appeared quite well matched. His plush mouth was set upon a tight jaw that was currently clenched whether from anger or stress she didn't know. The hint of a cleft in his chin was naturally masculine and the tips of his very pointed ears were prominently on display. Elf.

"You are familiar with the Prince of Eryl Lasgalen?" His voice was deep but tight and his accent lightly colored his words. The common tongue, while familiar to him, was not his native language.

A prince, she thought, that explained his mannerisms, "I would assume they are one and the same." She coughed gently into the back of her drenched sleeve and gave a small chuckle.

"I don't imagine the name Legolas is overly common." She looked down at her empty hands. Her nails were split and bits of leather were wedged under her nails from her grip on Aragorn's boot. She was however no longer bleeding.

"I assure you it is not." He replied unamused.

How long and how far had she been carried down the river? Where had Aragorn been washed away to?

Nat looked around searching adamantly for any sign of Aragorn, keenly aware that there were many eyes on her. In fact, from the looks of it there was a small army of eyes looking down at her from atop the riverbank. She quickly spotted Aragorn's boot by the bank. She struggled to her feet, "Where is he?" She asked beseechingly as she scrambled for the boot, still wobbly on her legs, but quickly regaining her strength. Snatching up the boot she held it out to the elf before her, "Where is Aragorn?"

"Aragorn is known to me however he was not with you when we came upon you." He replied coolly. Haldir remembered the man well and had met him on numerous occasions since his boyhood. As Elrond's charge, Aragorn had paid a number of visits to the Lothlórien. The most recent of which had been in strange company and under grave circumstances. He had traveled with the nine, made eight at Mithrandir's death, entrusted with the destruction of the One Ring. Their mission would claim more than their lives if they were unsuccessful.

Her heart sank and she swallowed her anger, it was thick and bitter in her throat. She ran her hand over her face and hair. She was soaked to the bone. The water temperature was frigid but her enhanced body was quickly warming. She knelt down on her haunches and tossed Aragorn's boot aside. It was no good to either one of them now.

This fucking planet was going to be the death of her. She would have to go on without him if she was going to make it to Helms Deep. War was coming and she'd given her word...for whatever it was worth. She'd promised herself she'd protect Eowyn until her brother and Wulfric were reunited with her. She'd promised Gandalf she'd stick with the company and in return he would help her get Eric back. When all was said and done, she could come back for Aragorn and search for his body if she could find one. The nagging voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she could also do as she had originally wanted. She had the cover to retrieve Eric on her own and disappear. She could watch and wait until Isengard emptied. She could enter the tower unnoticed and find Eric alone. He was an old man, a scientist, he wasn't trained to survive like her. She didn't know how much longer he would hold out in the wizard's strong hold.

She had always been better off on her own; it made decision making simple.

She composed herself, time was of the essence. "Where are we?" she regained her feet and met his heavy stare. His presence was intense and his focus keen.

He'd enjoyed the brief moment of watching her features contort with her thoughts. He motioned behind her, "The people of Rohan call this the Entwash."

"But still in Rohan." She looked at the sun and judged its angle. Three hours since she'd fallen with Aragorn. Gathering her bearings, she found her direction. Her mind was firmly made. She looked over the elven army before her in fine detail. Their armor, polished within an inch of its life, gleamed in the sun. All of them were turned about face in her direction. Nat focused back on the imposing elf before her. He was armed to the teeth, a golden bow and quiver hung from his impossibly wide shoulders, an elegant sword strapped to his hip, filigreed knives at his thighs. He screamed 'master and commander'.

Reaching for the front of her tunic she undid the onyx toggles at her bust as she said humorlessly, "You're a long way from home."

She didn't think twice as she slipped her top off her shoulders. The smooth slopes of her breasts peeked out from behind her fitted bra and undershirt. In New York she wouldn't have received a second look from anyone for wearing a form fitted top, here it was downright scandalous. The simple fact that she wore pants was enough to cause a stir.

With a steady twist, Nat rang her heavy wool tunic out.

His eyebrows furrowed as water splashed his boots.

She slung her tunic over her shoulder. Until it dried a bit, she'd rather not wear it. She was mildly chilled but once they began traveling the sun would warm her and dry out her top. She combed through her hair with her fingers, quickly finding order and tying it back with its own strands.

Her geography wasn't exceedingly accurate but based on their current location, the proximity of the nearest elven city, the direction his army was headed, somehow as improbable as it should have been given the time it would have taken them to march this distance, they were headed to Helm's Deep.

She said as much to him, when he hesitated to respond, she continued. "I met Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli when they came to Rohan." Bending over she removed her boots one at a time, ringing them out along with her sodden socks. Her feet were pruned and wrinkled from the long hours they'd remained wet in her boots but still he remained silent. "King Theoden has evacuated the city and made for Helm's Deep. We were ambushed by Orcs and wolves along the way and separated." She met his eyes and gave him a wry look as she unbuttoned her leggings and slipped them down her thighs, the fabric was drenched. Not even a twitch from him or a wandering eye. "I would imagine, if he were able, Aragorn would continue to make his way back to his companions. Would you mind terribly if I joined you the remainder of the way?" Nat proceeded to ring them out between them. The water squelched from the fabric. As practical as it was to try and wring out her clothing, she knew she was pushing his limits, prodding him to have a reaction of any kind. As things stood, she couldn't gauge him, his face was an indecipherable facade.

The elf remained silent at her request. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at her, contemplating her request. Haldir had always been apprehensive of humans. Impulsive, violent, and disingenuous he'd come across very few humans that he would willingly call an acquaintance or friend. However, Aragorn had been a man of quality, the likes of which were few and far between. He had honor. The way she was attempting to flaunt herself irked him. She was blatantly trying to distract him and to persuade him. He wouldn't be so easily swayed.

Frostily he replied, "It would be uncouth to leave, one so scantily clad, alone to the wilderness. We make for Helms Deep and travel swiftly. You must keep up with the company. I will not spare a soldier to escort you separately. Fall behind and you will be left behind." He took a half step closer, towering over her small frame. His dramatic features turned harsh, "I highly suggest you keep up." his tone dripped with disdain.

There it was, just a hint of icy temper, she thought as she smiled warmly up at him. Her eyes were alight with mischief. It was in her nature to keep people off balance around her. It made it easier for her to gain the upper hand, to feel in control. Most importantly if she could garner a reaction, of any kind, make the slightest crack in someone's facade, if she could get to them, she could get in. She took the same half step forward, invading his space and forcing herself to cock her head to look up at him. Nat knew how to affect a man, but an elf...perhaps they were a different story altogether. He towered over her in width and height but she was not so easily put off. She was no peasant from Middle Earth.

"Lead the way, Captain." She said softly gestured outward, leggings in hand, she gave them a final twist between them. More water spilled onto his boots.

His disapproving grimace only made her satisfaction spread.

Locking eyes, he replied simply, "March Warden." before turning on his heels and making his way up the bank. His red cloak flared out behind him. Nimbly he leaped up the bank as if the weight of his immense armor was nor more a hindrance than the weight of his skin.

Silence. The entire army was eerily quiet. They moved with smooth precision that rendered their gleaming armor completely mute. Their swords didn't rattle, their knives didn't clink, even their arrows barely shifted in their quivers. It was highly unnerving.

She'd met one elf and only then for a smattering of days. It was hard not to notice how otherworldly Legolas was with his gleaming flaxen hair, piercing eyes, and perfect complexion and bone structure but those were the obvious features that set him apart from humans. Anyone could see that the elves were beyond beautiful. It was the other things, the subtle ones, that put her on edge. She'd been trained to be a keen and quick judge of character. It was often through and around the eyes that she could recognize a person's tell and intentions. Generally speaking within minutes, she could decipher the patterns and reactions of any given person. Forty-three muscles controlled the eyes, nose, cheeks and jaw; it was in those muscles, the ticks, twitches, and unintentional wrinkling that usually gave people away but those rules didn't seem to apply to her current subjects. The elves around her never changed or wavered. Their pace never faltered and their eyes never wandered. Self-control...and all of them had it in spades.

Their journey was swift. They traveled well and much quicker than Nat had anticipated and while she easily kept pace with them; if she had been a normal human, she would have been left behind miles ago. She wondered if the March Warden had meant what he'd said. If he had intended to leave her behind or if he had perhaps meant to test her. To put her in a place that would require her to apologize to him for her behavior and ask for his aid. If she had been completely human, it might have actually worked. As things stood she made a point of running just to the side of the company he led. Just far enough to stay in his peripheral vision.

She'd redressed on the fly as they ran. Her clothing had taken its sweet time drying out. Hours had passed before she had put her heavy tunic back on. At first, she had welcomed the added warmth but now she was on the verge of taking it off again as her body heat built up beneath its surface. Despite her enhanced stamina she was starting to feel her full day of trauma catching up to her. Her shoulder was tender and her thighs burned from a hard day of running. It was nowhere near as bad as the day after Budapest but she knew she wouldn't have the luxury of a recovery day. War was coming and it was coming quickly.

The sun was beginning to set as they crested a large hill and there off in the distance before her, standing proud against the mountains was a fortress she knew to be Helms Deep. Their company marched forward, their pace unwavering, except her. She inexplicably found her feet had stalled as she gazed at the towering castle carved into stone. Nat understood why the king had chosen this place now. She took in the landscape as it tapered down a dramatic hill side and funneled any invading army straight into the stone wall. The high mountain sides made escape impossible but here, in this place, the King of Rohan meant to outlast his enemies. It would take a tremendous force to overwhelm a place like this. It was defensively ideal.

It amazed her how different Middle Earth was from home. After all she'd seen, all she had been through, on some level it was nice for things to be new again. To relearn her environment and experience something unexpected. She was finding her footing here, and surprisingly had made some quick contacts. People who called her friend. It had been a long time since she'd aloud herself the luxury of friends outside of her work connections. It was safer that way, for everyone involved. For the most part she didn't have to hide from the likes of Tony, Steve, Bruce or Thor. They knew who and what she was.

She was different here. She could be different and maybe...just maybe she could stay that way.

The army of elves had nearly passed her up by the time she gathered herself. Up ahead one of the elves sounded a horn, high and elegant in sound, it announced their presents better than any messenger.

She caught up just as the front of their army passed through the gates. The people lined the narrow streets, their mouths agape in wonder. Most of them, she was sure, had never laid eyes on an elf before. They had been born and bred in their small villages, generation after generation. Elves were hardly more than myths and legends to most.

The army halted at her side but she continued on at the sound of a familiar voice. Relief washed over her as she passed through the army's front lines just in time to see Aragorn embrace the March Warden. His eyes caught hers from over the March Warden's shoulder and she couldn't help the smile of genuine happiness at seeing him alive. He'd made it, despite all the odds stacked against them they had both managed to survive. He returned her look of surprise, his face warm and despite the battle to come...hopeful.

She glanced over as she heard armor clanking and laughed as Gimli came crashing down the stairs.

"Where is she? Stubborn, mad woman, where is she?" He shouted, roughly barreling through the line of people gathered on the stairs. Legolas followed smoothly behind him. As soon as he came into view the entire army behind her turned as one in an about face. Elven royalty indeed.

Gimli regained his footing. Hands on his hips, he glared at her harshly. "What were ya thinkin' woman!" He burst out, he threw his hand out at Aragorn, "He's too stubborn to die and you go throwin' yourself off a cliff after him. Have you lost your damn mind?"

He hobbled an uncomfortable looking walk toward her. His armor still misplaced and askew. Gimli didn't give her a chance to reply before he crashed into her, hugging her with great strength. Touched by his heartfelt gesture but genuinely surprised by the contact she patted him gently on the back.

"I couldn't stand by and do nothing, Gimli." He released her and she tugged his beard. His eyes were full of kindness. Their depths held something more, gratitude. "Forgive me." She added softly.

He took her hands and looked her over thoroughly and nodded his agreement, "Do it again and I'll drown you myself." He promised with a gruff chuckle, "Now, follow me. Someone will be eager to see you."

She made her way to the caves with Gimli, who was insistent upon finding Eowyn. The Keep was absolutely buzzing with activity. Men, boys, and elves wove through one another between the walls and the armory. The women and children, carrying buckets of water, stores of food, and all the supplies they'd toted with them from Edoras to store for safe keeping with them in the caves. She could feel the anxiety in the air. The entire Keep was humming with it. War was coming. She could taste it.

They found Eowyn guiding the women and children into the caves, organizing food and water for those within. She took command easily, organized people with a natural ease that spoke of years of experience in doing so. She was efficient and compassionate, a born leader, and her people loved her. They watched her for a few moments as she continued to work. With time and some maturity she would make a wonderful leader for her people.

"She was devastated when we returned without you and Aragorn." Gimli grunted softly, his voice contemplative. He must have also noticed the way she was with Aragorn. Eowyn formed attachments easily and deeply, if their friendship was any indication. Her eyes were heavy with sadness and fatigue, grief clung to her.

"Eowyn has experienced an overwhelming amount of heartache. Her parents, dead. Her cousin, dead. Her brother, banished. Her uncle, possessed." Nat looked down at Gimli. Eowyn had lost nearly everyone she cared about. It was something they both now had in common. It was no surprise that her emotions were still raw and that the loss of her new friends had crushed her.

Nat was more used to the loss and death. Both were constants in her life. It was why after ninety years she had very few friends. The few she kept she treasured.

"I can understand her grief." An image of Clint, Laura, and the kids assaulted her. Her heart clenched at the thought of never seeing them again. If Eric was successful, they would be lost to her but at least they were alive and well. If she was lucky, she'd be a happy memory they would recall from time to time.

It was in the moment that Nat heard the shattering of a clay pot. She looked up to see Eowyn standing over the broken remains of a small pot that had held some type of grain. Her eyes watered with tears and her face was the epitome of disbelief. Nat hadn't been expecting such a reaction from her. She'd obviously made more of an impact on Eowyn then she had thought.

"You're alive." She whispered, gathering her skirts the tears glistening in her eyes spilled past her lashes. Eowyn rushed towards them. She hesitated for a moment to embrace Nat but throwing caution to the wind she simply threw her arms around her. Nat had been hugged more in the past ten minutes then she'd ever been embraced in her life. Kindly she returned the gesture. "Such luck both you and Lord Aragorn live by! Are you well my friend?" Backing off Eowyn held her at arm's length.

"A little worse for wear but just as lovely as ever." Gimli spoke up for her from beside them. Eowyn gave them both a small smile. Her grief and worry were temporarily relieved a small bit.

Releasing her completely Eowyn gestured toward the open mouth of the caves below, the caverns guarded by iron wrapped wooden doors. Lined with torches they seemed to go on for miles. "We are almost finished, most of the women and children have already come to settle in the caverns." She walked forward to the mouth of the caves and they followed behind her, "Here we can outlast them if we must." Nat marveled at how the walls glittered and sparkled, mineral deposits winked in the fire light. It was surprisingly beautiful. Reaching out she ran her hands over the cave wall closest to her the rough cool texture of the stone put her at ease. Solid rock would protect these people. Her hand froze as her eyes locked on to a vein of deep red, the crystals were dull and deep maroon. This was no ruby or precious gemstone.

"Gimli. Come here." She called over her shoulder. He was only a short distance away. Knowing the dwarves love for mining and precious gems she hoped he could confirm her suspicions. Gimli ceased his chatter with Eowyn as he approached. "What do you call this?" She asked, pointing out the cluster without touching it.

He inspected it and quickly scoffed, "That's no ruby if that's what you're thinking lass." He toed it with his boot and it crumbled under the pressure. "That there is a useless mineral deposit. Nothing to fuss over."

"There are dozens of those deposits throughout these caves." Eowyn spoke up and gestured further into the caves. "Most of what was valuable has already been mined."

The gears in Nat's head turned quickly, "I need gloves and jars, glass ones if you have them, with lids that seal well." Nat unsheathed her knife and dug out more of the substance. It crumbled to the floor in healthy chunks. The less dust she created the safer she would be.

"Natalia what are you doing?" Eowyn asked curiously.

Nat smiled softly as more and more crumbled from the wall. Her plan formed clearly in her mind, "Making a weapon."