Hey everyone! Here's the next installment. Thanks to all the readers, followers, and reviewers :) You guys are awesome. I'm so enjoying writing my first fanfiction. This has been a wonderful outlet for me creatively and I enjoy sharing it with all of you. As a reader I always enjoyed imagining the characters I read about and now I can add my own creativity to these wonderful people and places. Very fun! Anyways enjoy. As always xoxoxo

Her gut wrenching scream, more animal than woman, echoed down from the tower to where her companions waited in the courtyard below. Gimli's stomach sank and his hair pricked at the sound. Agony, absolute and complete.

The worst had happened and bless the lass she'd been prepared for it. There's nothing I haven't considered Gimli. She'd known this was a possibility, a likely one.

Thoughtfully, Gimli gripped the guns she'd given him for their own safety. He turned one on and tossed the other to the March Warden. His already stern face had turned to stone. Their eyes held. "I know you know how to use it." The March Wardens crystalline eyes sank closed in a long slow blink. He breathed in deeply. Swallowed hard.

Haldir nodded to the dwarf and turned the weapon on just as she had shown him. Death, so much death and destruction. He'd made his living and found his purpose in dealing it to his enemies. After thousands of years it still wasn't any easier to stomach; he was simply more proficient. Would he be driven to kill this woman? The vibrant and daring creature who'd taken down hoards of Uruk. The woman who'd saved his life and attempted to save his brothers

Nat had trusted the elf with her weapon and her life once before, Gimli had no reason not to do the same. This was not a situation to be taken lightly and it was obvious to Gimli that it weighed heavily on the elf.

Gimli turned to Wulfric just as crashed through the doors at the base of the tower. The scepter was clutched in one desperate hand. Thank the gods for that blessing. She'd managed to get him out. Some how, despite her worst fears coming to life, she'd managed to get him out. That alone told him enough about the situation inside.

For an old man he was covering his ground quickly. The whites of his eyes were clearly visible in his terror.

Gandalf charged forward through the shallows. His mount sprayed water as he lept, sure footedly, over the debris. In a flash he had Eric and his cargo thrown on the back of his horse and was making a mad dash back to the company.

Gimli addressed Gandalf, "You should take Aragorn and the King away from here. Sauron would want the three of you dead first. Take that thing with you." He gestured to the scepter in anger. How could such small innocent looking items be the cause of so much evil?

"Did she tell you anything else?" Gandalf asked urgently. Eric gripped his robes tightly and hung on for his life. Horses were entirely foreign to him. "Did you hear anything else?" He demanded.

Gimli shook his head and gruffly replied, "She would rather be put down like a rabid dog than live her life in mindless servitude."

"It's my fault." Eric breathed out heavily, "He was going to kill her. I stepped in and...I thought he was going to kill her." He swiped an angry hand over his face. When he spoke next he addressed the entire company that would remain, "The Natasha Romanoff you know is not the woman you'll be fighting. That woman is gone, trapped so deeply in her own mind you'll never be able to reason with her." He shook his grim face sadly, "She won't know any of you and she won't care. If Saruman told her to kill every single one of us...she will, without question." He looked at each of them individually. "Do not hesitate to do as you must." His gaze lifted to the base of the tower where Natalie had emerged. "...she won't." Her face was completely blank as she kicked over a wagon near the base of the tower and ripped out the middle support with her bare hands. The iron shaft had to weigh a hundred pounds or more but to her it's weight meant nothing.

Her shoulder had bled through her tunic but she paid it no mind. He looked to Gandalf who secured the scepter under his arm.

"We make for Rohan." Gandalf said, addressing the King and Aragorn. With a heavy heart he gazed at Natalie as she approached. His horse grew anxious beneath him. Her eyes blazed a vibrant and blinding blue but they were hollow and empty. There was nothing behind her gaze, no emotion played across her face. The scepter had washed every human emotion one could poses away completely, "Valar be with you." He whispered, kicking his horses flanks and removing their most valuable assets from danger.

Wulfric stepped forward with a heavy sigh and slung his great war hammer over his shoulder. This would not end well.

"Cover me." He commanded as he passed between the two elves and the dwarf. He still couldn't believe, of all people, she'd left Gimli in charge. He locked onto her, unblinking she stared back, neither slowing or speeding up. There was no recognition whatsoever in the lines of her face.

He thought of her when he'd first found her body on the shores of the Snowbourne. He'd thought her to be delicate at one time but had quickly learned that she was as tough as well made steel. They'd spent weeks together and he'd seen every emotion from fondness, fear, and anger play across her features. Once she had settled in and had started to trust him, warmed to him in friendship, she'd been much more free with herself. He'd botched terribly what little trust she'd given him. He had hoped she would forgive him in time. To see her now, deadfaced and blank, stung him deeper than he would ever say.

"Natalie!" He boomed even knowing it was useless; he couldn't not try.

With practiced ease she spun the iron rod around her body in viscous circles. She warmed her muscles, balanced and tested the weight of her makeshift weapon. Still she strode forward, unhurried, and with ease. She was calculating, who first and how.

Closer now.

"Natalie!" He tried again, one last time before he'd be forced to engage her.

Her response was steady silence. No flicker of recognition. No hint of fear.

He heard the high whine of her own weapons powering up behind him as dwarf and elf prepared at his back. With any luck he'd manage to keep them both alive. She was fast but he was exponentially stronger. If he could land the right blow he'd have her. This would test the control he'd relentlessly honed in battle all his life. A challenge to his skills. He'd have to out think, out maneuver and get a little lucky along the way.

"Natalie." He uttered her name in apology and prayed for forgiveness.

With deadly grace she lunged and plunged the rod forward sharply. He deflected with his arm brace and swung his own hammer wide. Nat dodged under his blow and snapped upward quick like a viper and caught the end of his chin with her makeshift iron weapon. The blow rattled his teeth hard enough to remind him of her strength, even wounded. He spit the blood from his mouth.

He expected her to grin, for a hint of the devilish blood lust to show in her eyes, but there was nothing.

Unrelently, she moved in again and again. Perfectly and accurately, leaving no opportunity to strike back. Every blow kept him on the defensive. He watched and he waited for her injured shoulder to strain and pull until it weakened. He'd had no other choice but to outlast her.

Nat swiped her iron rod high for the side of his head and he dropped low under it only to be caught and blinded by the curtain of water she sprayed toward him with her other hand. She blasted the end of the pole into his chest and stalled the air in his lungs.

He barked out a gasp and forced his lungs to draw air.

She drew back and circled him slowly. Wulfric knew he was being examined. She was analyzing his condition.

Her tunic was soaked through with blood at the shoulder. It leaked down over her chest to nearly her ribs. He knew blood loss would eventually slow her. Her speed would wane while he continued to carefully block her attacks. His strength would last but he was bound to take a few licks in the process.

One well placed blow, he reminded himself. That was all he needed.

She lunged, aiming a blow for his ribs and instead of dodging he stepped into the blow. With brutal force he sent his fist straight toward her face. Nat barely managed to turn before his blow made contact. His knuckles busted open her cheek bone. He felt the dull crack of bone beneath his fist.

She took the dizzying blow, shook it off, and started all over again. Eric's words echoed in his mind. She would kill them if she got the opportunity. She thought she could wear him down. Chip away at his rock hard exterior one punch at a time.

Using her iron rod as a pole she vaulted herself into him in a similar fashion as she had at the Keep. More prepared this time he caught her around the waist and plunged her into the shallow waters lapping at their legs. He clamped his thick hands around the delicate skin of her neck and held her under with all his strength. The thrashed violently. She clawed at his face and arms. Her legs found purchase with several well aimed kicks. With a painful grunt he took one to the groin...his hands went weak around her throat. Despite her lack of oxygen she remained sharp. She dislodged his hands in a full body twist and came up for air. Gasping and spitting, she crawled to her weapon. Mindlessly she grabbed a hold of it and swung it out behind her. The jab connected into the waiting hands of Wulfric.

He tore it ruthlessly from her grip.

He glared daggers at her,"Enough!" He barked as he launched himself at her. He jerked her forward into a head butt that sent her reeling. Her blood coated his face in a glistening red sheen. Wulfric used the moment of disorientation to punch her square in the jaw; it connected solidly and sent her sprawling into the water. She fumbled for balance but managed to waiver to her feet. She drew her hands up in defense. Her body rocking unsteadily, ball to heal.

Her mind would not let her body surrender.

Wulfric struggled with himself for several long moments. Her face was broken and blood dripped heavily off of her chin. Her cheek bone was obviously broken. Her jaw dislocated or worse. Her eye socket was at the bare minimum fractured perhaps broken as well. Her brow was split wide open and her eye was already nearly swollen shut. The blood from her lip dripped down the alabaster column of her throat. Nat's neck held the violent red impressions from his hands. The bruises would be hideous. Her shoulder was damaged and weakened even more from their fight. If he added the injuries from Helms Deep and those he'd caused in the hall; he imagined the pain would be crippling if she'd been in her right mind.

Even as injured as she was she was still defiant, still determined. Her eyes, unfocused, remained icy blue and dull. He knew now needed to be done to end it. Hurting her like this was painful for him in its own way. If he killed her, he'd never forgive himself. He'd never forget the sinking feeling of disgust in himself as he stared at her blood stained face, knowing it was his hands that had done the damage.

He cursed at himself and the gods for putting him up to this. Damn it all the Helheim.

Wulfric swung both hammer and rod, high and low, at her. She ducked low under the hammer but he caught her with the rod in the legs. A brutal blow that snapped her legs out from beneath her. She landed hard and her head found a forgotten chunk of marble beneath the water. She rolled through the water, soaked to the bone. The skin at her temple had split open from the impact. Nat clawed like a wild thing to her feet.

Weak and deliriously dizzy Wulfric swung his hammer toward her center. Too slow to dodge she cushioned the blow and wrapped her body around the end of his hammer.

Her weight dropped the end of the hammer, clutching to it, he released its immense weight and left her pinned beneath it. Only his superior strength allowed him to wield such a weapon. It easily weighed in at twic his own body weight.

She howled and struggled beneath it but couldn't dislodge the bone crushing weight. Gasping for breath she heaved with what was left of her strength. His great war hammer barely budged.

He approached slowly and motioned over his shoulder for the elves and dwarf to close in on them. He heard their splash as they dismounted but his eyes remained fixated on Natalie. Grunting and crying like a beast she clawed at his hammer. She would asphyxiate soon if she continued on in such a manner. Hissing she grabbed the broken stones beside her and desperately hurled them at a blistering speed in his direction. He dodged them easily.

He heard the high pitched whines of her own weapons behind him as Haldir and Gimli closed in. Legolas toed her boot and watched as she mindlessly thrashed at the contact, clawing at thin air.

"God's above." Haldir murmured when he caught sight of her maddened face, or what was left of it. She was mindless and crazed as she clawed at her surroundings desperately trying to find something to grip in her hands as a weapon. Something. Anything. Only to break for a single moment and attempt to shift Wulfric's war hammer from her chest and stomach. She raged on until her lips began to blue from the lack of oxygen. With the hammer on her chest she was barely drawing breath.

"Make it quick lad." Gimli grunted.

Swallowing hard Fenrir clenched his fist and with it landed a solid blow to the side of her skull. His knees buckled at the contact. He prayed he hadn't just killed her. She crumpled at the contact. Her body collapsed into the shallow water. He waited a single heartbeat before immediately shoving his hammer aside.

Haldir was at his side and with gentle hands lifted her from the water. He propped her lax body against him and listened close for her breathing. A moment later he found it and with nimble fingers also found her pulse. The breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding rushed from his lungs.

"She lives." He murmured brushing her tangled hair from her bloodied face. Her features were distorted from painful swelling and bruising. How could she have knowingly subjected herself to such a thing. "She needs a healer." He lifted her into his arms and carried her toward his awaiting horse. It was Gimli who stopped him.

"We dont know if that was enough to bring her back to herself."

Haldir glared sharply, "Enough?" He scoffed as he lifted her onto the back of his horse. Swiftly he mounted up behind her, cradling her as best he could against his chest. He held her to him and wrapped the ends of his cloak around her soaking wet body. Her eyelashes fluttered gently and even through the swelling he glimpsed the depths of their intense green color. The ache in his chest flared sharply and another wave of relief washed over him. She didn't fully wake.

"Rest assured," he said. His grip tightening around her on its own will. "She is ours again."

Her heart beat throbbed intensely in her skull. From tip to toe her body felt like lead. Nats limbs were unusually heavy but she was warm to the point of sweating. She cracked her eyes open and with a groan attempted an upright position, clutching her warm blankets around her. Movement at her side made her flinch, sending pain throbbing through her skull. Warm hands closed over her shoulders and eased her back down.

"You should rest." She knew that voice and with a gentle turn of her head she knew his face. His had been sculpted by the gods on their best day with its harsh lines and a mouth that made her think of poets. That face was burned in her mind, like an image set to film.

He covered her again and grabbed a small cup from the table beside them. Softly he cradled her head and helped her take a sip of warm tea. She groaned as the soothing warmth eased her parched throat.

"Thank you." Her voice sounded incredibly rough to her own ears. Haldir's intense blue eyes focused in on hers as he examined her pale face. His brows furrowed intently. Whatever he saw must have pleased him as the tension in his face relaxed. Gently he released her back onto the pillow.

She knew she'd been out for at least a day, perhaps two as she watched him fiddle with the salves and viles beside him. He was impeccably clean. All signs of battle were gone and his clothes looked clean and pressed.

Finding what he wanted he dipped a finger into a green salve and approached her again. He sat on the bed this time, hovering over her, he brushed the salve onto her cheek and around her eye. His gentle probing sent a jolt of pain through her face. She couldn't contain the wince that followed. The salve was cool and had a fresh minty scent to it. Nat felt instant relief as he spread it across her skin.

He cleared his throat. "I've just come to look in on you. You're mending much faster than I expected." He frowned down at her. His look implied that he suspected she wasn't as human as she'd wanted them to believe. He cleaned his hand on a small rag before running his fingers over her shoulder and tugging her cover down to check her wounded torso. The hole the scepter had pierced there was nearly closed. The skin around it, while pink, was smooth and unblemished. Somehow her body would managed to avoid a scar there. "You've nearly missed two days."

She didn't speak instead she chose to simply lay there and let her mind come to speed with her body. Desperately she tried to recover the time after Saruman had successfully changed her but try as she might the effort only caused her more pain. Based solely on how she felt she knew it hadn't gone well. God's she hurt and she was tired, so very tired. She closed her eyes and sank down into her pillows. Her heart ached along with her body. Guilt washed over her. Had she killed anyone? Was Eric alive? She'd gone after Wulfric, her body and injuries told her that much. Her throat grew tight at the thought and she opened her lids to meet his brilliant gaze.

"Tell me." She said more strongly this time. "What have I done?" Dread filled the empty pit of her stomach as she waited impatiently for his response.

"No more than you set out to accomplish." There was anger in his tone, just below his attempt at even indifference. She could see it in the set of his jaw. He continued examining her face. "You're back up plan worked perfectly. Grima is dead. The scepter is ours. Eric is alive and even the wizard has been...handled." His hand twitched in his lap. His gaze lingered on her broken face. "The only one who suffers is you."

She sighed in relief and let out a rush of breath. Her eyes filled with moisture as she contained the unspoken agony she subjected herself to.

Nat felt absolutely shattered.

Clint had described his experience as being 'unmade'...there were no better words for how she felt. She felt exposed, as if all her insides were suddenly outside and she had no way to contain or protect herself.

She shivered.

Her head throbbed hard and she couldn't still the shaking that had begun in her fingers and toes and was slowly making its way up her limbs. She drew in a few rapid shaky breaths.

Haldir stood from her bed side and made back to the corner of the room where a fire burned hotly in a small harth. It was the only source of heat in the stone walled rooms of Helms Deep. He tossed a few small logs on the fire. When he had finished he gripped the mantle and leaned into it for support. Haldir owed her a life debt, he reminded himself, that's why he was here. It had nothing to do with his curiosity or the depths of those emerald eyes that had, for just a moment, peered up at him with such relief and trust that it had made him ache. No, he thought, it had nothing to do with that at all.

He cleared his throat and gathered himself.

The fire had taken to the dried timber he'd fed it and blazed hotly at his front. Her gaze burned him just as deeply from his back.

It was nothing.

Try as he might to distract himself, he asked, "Of all the creatures inhabiting Middle Earth why would you leave the dwarf in charge?" His attempt at humor sounded as forced as it felt.

When she didn't respond he turned to her searchingly. Nat shivered so violently her teeth rattled. She recognized it for what it was but couldn't unhinge her jaw to form the words. It had happened to her numerous times as a young girl only then she'd been left to weather it alone. Her years in the Red Room had made her stronger and for seventy years she hadn't experienced the symptoms once. Shock...she was well on her way into full blown shock. Her own body was betraying her. Her nerves, raw and frayed to the point that even her enhanced body hadn't healed enough to fully obey her commands.

Rushing to her Haldir dropped a hand to her clammy flesh. She groaned as the warmth of his touch seeped into her skin.

He cursed in elvish as he sprang to the door. He'd thought she'd simply been chilled but her shivering had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. He quickly unlocked the door and threw the heavy latch aside and barked at Gimli who sat just outside guarding the entrance. "Gimli, fetch the healer!" His tone implied his urgency and Gimli immediately tore off down the hallway.

Weak and trapped in her barely functioning body she stared past Haldir, as he made his way back to her bedside, and out into the open hallway. She wanted so badly to get up, to be on her own feet but she couldn't have done it not even with all her might. Her skull throbbed painfully behind her eyes, pulsing violently. Her fragile system had quickly been overwhelmed. Her vision darkened around the edges as her shortened breaths threatened to render her unconscious. She welcomed it, the sweet comfort of oblivion. If she could have begged it to take her she would have. Instead she found herself suddenly cradled in Haldir's warm embrace, propped up against his chest where he'd slid into her bed behind her.

Haldir held onto her, his body caged around her limbs and his hands over the tops of hers in an attempt to settle her violent vibrations. Her body was damp with sweat and her skin had gone clammy cold. He tucked her small frame into his and spoke quietly to her in his own tongue. In all his life he had never been so close to a woman as he was to her in those moments.

Elves were gifted in many things, chief among them was the art of healing and although Haldir was not a trained healer he knew enough of their ways to bring her some relief and comfort. He'd never spoken the words but he knew them well. He'd heard them a hand full of times throughout his thousands of years on the battlefield from numerous mouths including his mother's.

He prayed to the Elentari for them to hear his words and offer him the guidance to comfort and heal. He named them reverently and felt their grace cast upon him. His thumbs moved comfortably over her hands as she settled ever so against him. He brought one of their joined hands up to rest against her cheek speaking all the while to Irmo and his gentle lady Este. Seaking from them the gifts they so willing offered to his people. To use him as a channel for their spirit and good will.

He could feel her now, more intimately than a simple physical connection. She'd opened to him easily, a rose sunning it's face. He trembled when the weight of her soul touched his but he latched on with all his strength against the raging torrent that bombarded him. Her splinter mind and battered soul nearly overwhelmed him but he held on all the tighter for it. He pleaded her case to Irmo and Este. He showed them her honor and her sacrifice. Haldir, a protector of their favored children, whom had never dared to ask for favor, now requested their divine intervention. All the while he fought to contain the sharp sporadic pulses of Natalie's mind and soul. Her emotions were raging, flashing in tormented fragments right before his eyes in vibrant bursts of color.

There was no exchange of words, nor brilliant visions, but he felt the devine in his soul. Their warmth was in him now and he was free to gift it to the mortal he cradled with his body. He used their grace like a soothing balm. Gently, he released their gift, letting it ebb slowly from his soul and ease away the splintered violence that tormented her. The heat between them grew, nearly uncomfortably so, as their connection only deepened. He gave himself over to it and felt the hard edge of the head board at his back when he fell against it with her still in his arms. Unpracticed at such things he hadn't quite expected the sudden tiredness that overcame him. She was drawing from him now, seeking his comfort, exploring what inner workings of the soul a mortal mind could comprehend.

Her breathing grew deep and strong. Her shuddering finally ceased. Nat's vibrant hair rested right beneath his jaw. He didn't fight his urge to inhale her scent and instead let it wash over him in familiarity.

He should had severed their bond already but found that he could not...nor did he want to terminate their connection. The wise decision would have been to break it off as soon as his gift had run its course. He suspected that should be the way of things. How a trained healer would have completed such a task. Instead he found himself basking in their connection. As unfamiliar and terrifyingly intimate as the experience was, he felt grounded by the connection. Rooted and bared to the moment. A depth of mutual understanding had bloomed between the two of them, one that he had never before experienced. The very essence of their existence had tangled with one another.

Caught in their embrace he waited for Gimli and the healer to arrive, unwilling to depart until she was in experienced hands.

When they finally entered he ignored the curious look Gimli shot him as the healer took over Natalie's care. She had quieted now. Her face soft and relaxed as she rested comfortably. With uneasy steps Haldir found his way to the nearest chair and resumed his previous position to rest. Tiredly he propped his feet up and leaned back in his chair. He turned is head to watch, his body lax. He didn't know the exact moment he closed his eyes but it was only a few moments before a deep calming sleep overtook him.