Before I start this chapter (no. 32 wth lol) I just wanted to say THANK YOU! for the support and feedback you have given me during the writing process of this story. I know we're a long way from the finish yet but i feel now that we're in the last film and book that we're nearing the end of our story with Mirren and thus feel a little sentimental. I would especially like to thank users who have commented and reviewed on my chapters every week consistently!

Ignira - Your reviews have been so special for me! Writing becomes so so so much easier when i receive wonderful reviews like yours, they make my day :)) Thank you so much!

To the many guest reviewers... I love you!

Annnd if anyone was wondering if her mother was Tolkien's Irime (which i really doubt you were lmao soz for this ramble) I think i decided that she wasn't, she was just named after her... If you're really into the ancestory (i'm not a complete expert especially because Tolkien can be quite confusing with where he places people in family trees) I place Irime, Mirren's mother and wife to Cirdan (for a short period before her death at least) as a sister of Ordodreth - who in turn was father to Gil-Galad and Finduillas. As a reader said, this does place Irime as a little young for Cirdan but i'm going with the fact that elves are immortal so age doesn't really seem to bother them when two are meant to be; take Aragorn and Arwen for example who are the definition of goals really hahah. Also if you consider the concept of the dying lands, age is really non-existant for them as beings so any type of love is really eternal. Tally ho tho, hope that was interesting for some person reading lets get on with the story at present... Please continue to leave reviews !

(Also i would like to promise that when I finish publishing all the chapters i will go back and correct all the grammar mistakes, reading a few of the chapters back last night i was like geesh i need some help hahahaha)

Anyway... Happy Reading! Love as always, J x

p.s who can spot the subtle Harry Potter quote lmao i'm a sucker for hp

XXXII - The Camp in Dunharrow

As dusk finally deepened the next evening, none of their company felt inclined to sleep. More so than not, each of Théoden's riders sensed the closeness of Dunharrow and the warmth of the tents and fires that would greet them there.

Mirren rode close to Merry and his pony as a light breeze fluttered past and danced into the unknown beyond the horizon behind them. They had chatted aimlessly about the Shire and Merry's family as they travelled, but the elleth couldn't help but believe that her attempts to comfort and distract the hobbit were futile. Thoughts of Pippin and Gandalf were close to all of them who had watched them leave in such haste.

Ahead, a rider called out loudly to the King.

"My Lord!" At the shout, Théoden slowed their troop to greet the voice, "Hail to you sire!"

"Grimbold!" The King waved, his eyebrows furrowing quickly as he reviewed the tents under the shadow of the mountain. "How many?"

"I bring 500 from the Westfold, my lord." Grimbold answered proudly. Mirren wondered unconsciously if it would be enough.

Riding in, another soldier called, "We have 300 more from Fenmarch, Théoden King."

"Where are the riders from Snowbourn?" Théoden asked quickly,

"None have come, my lord." Another shook his head.

Aragorn turned from beside Théoden and caught Mirren's gaze. She read in his glance the doubts that stirred in her own heart. Swiftly, he looked from her towards the cliff that would lead to Théoden's encampment.

"I never did like heights..." Mirren sighed, looking wearily at the sheer rock face the horses would have to scale.

Hausfel snorted at her discomfort and shuffled on his hooved feet.

"Don't worry, my lady!" Merry reassured her, he drew his pony along side Hausfel and Mirren dropped her hand to squeeze the one he offered as a small comfort. "We're with you..."

She felt Legolas' presence as he pulled Arod up behind her. With him as a sentinel, Mirren's heart relaxed a little as they began the accent up the cliff. Still, the elleth found herself holding her breath and gripping Hausfel significantly more tightly than before, until the zig zagging stopped and they reached the top.

Dismounting, she thanked Hausfel thoroughly, pressing a kiss on his soft nose for his constant steadfastness and steady hooves.

Legolas came to help her with the straps on Hausfel's saddle and the grey colt nuzzled the ellon's head. He smiled softly, finding a little joy in the horses friendliness. The woodland Prince's eyes were the same colour as river water and his hair was a beated blonde without the light of the dawn. He raised one brow at Mirren's staring, voicing the question she knew he would ask silently.

Are you okay?

He knew her too well, and she him.

Nodding she looked past him to the base of two tall rock faces. With a visceral force that made her wince her head suddenly pounded with four words she had often thought of throughout the day.

The way is shut.

Following her gaze past Eomer who was having a strange difficulty saddling his horse, Legolas frowned as Arod and Hausfel stamped their feet nervously beside him.

"The horses are restless and the men quiet." He observed, confused.

"They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain." Eomer explained stiffly.

Through the mist at the cliffs roots, a small cleft was revealed through the rocks and Mirren shuffled closer to Legolas and Gimli.

"That road there…where does it lead?" The dwarf asked, pointing his axe at it roughly. There was an unusual catch in his voice that revealed his wariness.

The road that is made for the dead. Mirren thought… She hadn't thought it would be so menacing.

"It is the Dimholt Road…The door under the mountain." The Woodland Prince voiced next to her.

Eomer nodded, noting the strange look in the elleth's eyes as she averted her gaze from his own. "None who venture there ever return." He warned, slowly. "That mountain is evil."

Even as he spoke those words, Aragorn stepped a little closer to the cleft, peering through the mist. For a moment he thought he saw the figure of a man, a kingly ghost, beckoning to him from the rock. But looking closer, he was gone. Steadying his breaths, the ranger blinked, trying to refocus his eyes.

"It is the path of the dead, Estel. Only Isildur's heir can compel them to leave it." The elleth's voice made him jump and as he turned he was surprised to find that she was standing directly behind him.

Turning, he could see only the mist once more, obscuring the path Gandalf had warned him he must take. Now he knew what Mirren meant when she had said the path of the dead was hard to follow. Every horse that was kept around them pulled away from the cliff; they knew the truth of the stories even if the riders payed them only mild attention.

"Aragorn!" Gimli's gruff call jolted his attention back to the camp. Mirren also turned to at the sound of their friends voice. "Let's find some food!" The dwarf huffed, swinging his arm in a gesture that he meant for them to follow as he walked back into the fray of tents.

Looking back for one last time, the mist still covered the cleft in the rock and Aragorn shook his head.

Another road, he thought, another path less travelled.

Dinner was a small and silent affair. For a while, at least, before some of the Rohirrim joined them and cajoled Gimli into drinking a little mead.

It eased their fears so Mirren didn't blame them. But still, the elleth, Legolas and Aragorn refused the drink. They could not forget that they were supposed to be riding to war at dawn. Even if they wanted to, their minds were too overcome with apprehension and strange fear that they could not focus. The Ranger retired early to bed. Once she was done with dinner, Mirren made to stand and pulled Legolas lightly with her hand.

If this was to be her last night… she didn't want to spend it alone.

"Six thousand spears." Legolas said as they curled their way around the camp. Unconsciously, neither of them wanted to pretend to sleep just yet.

The sight of the Dimholt road had sobered her heart and although she wasn't sure Aragorn completely understood yet, Mirren had dreamt it and knew their path was clear.

"The Rohirrim will do their name justice at least…. They haven't gathered like this in hundreds of years."

"They had no need to." Legolas murmured, his eyes lost amongst the tents below even as Mirren gripped his arm tightly with both of her own.

The thought silenced them for a moment and they watched the camp sadly before eventually moving on.

"What do you think will happen at home if we fail here?" Mirren asked quietly as they entered the white cloth tent Eowyn had marked as theirs once the camp had settled.

It was a small space, with a bed and a wooden table and chairs but, it was more than enough for the single night they would be staying there. Sighing, Mirren unsheathed her weapons and placed them on the wooden table as Legolas considered her question.

"Sauron's armies will burn the Wood… devastate my father halls… and a darkness will overcome the land so that even the stars will not shine above."

Mirren shivered at the thought, regretting the question immediately, despite the fact that it was weighing heavily on her mind. Everything they had worked and travelled for, for so many months seemed to be coming to and end before their eyes.

"I wish we could be both there and here." She thought aloud, "So that we might protect our family and our friends."

"Do not linger on these thoughts, my love." Legolas murmured in elvish, walking slowly to stand behind her. "It does not do well to dwell on dark things when there is still light."

Carefully, the Prince dipped his head and placed a kiss on the crook of her shoulder.

Mirren melted a little although she would never admit it. Trying to hold herself upright she smiled secretly at the way Legolas had been able to divert her thoughts so easily.

"Yes." Mirren agreed, turning to fist her fingers in Legolas tunic as he stood close to her. Looking up, she found his gaze already locked on her face as he reached out to take her waist and pull her towards him.

Mirren's breath caught in her throat slightly at his closeness. Legolas' mouth curled up into an amused smirk at the hitch in her breath before he dipped his head to brush his lips against hers.

It was a slow kiss and as such, Mirren soon found herself curling her hands into his hair to bring him even closer. Her heart thrummed in her chest as if it was burning and slowly all things seemed to slip from her mind but him.

"Legolas-" The name slipped from her lips as his palms flattened along the curves of her body, just so.

He let out a low sound that scraped the edges of his voice and Mirren was immensely pleased that she could have the same after on him as he did on her.

Grunting a little as she tugged on one of his braids, Legolas' breathing grew heavier and backed her slowly to rest their weight on the tents central pole. Gasping a little at the contact, Mirren grinned as Legolas deepened the kiss, curling one of his hands around her back, whilst the other trailed up her waist in a way that made the heat unfurling between them evident.

"If I do not go.. I don't think I will be able to stop…" Legolas inhaled, taking an almost purposeful step back in an attempt to pull himself from the temptation in front of him.

"-What if I don't want you to?" She breathed, her mind working hard to catch up with her body. At the question, Legolas leaned into her, his eyes flying shut as he rested his forehead gently on her own. His breathing was erratic and Mirren had to inhale softly to clear her foggy mind and slow the beating of her heart.

Wryly, Legolas smiled, gripping her a little closer and drawing Mirren in so that she thought for a moment he would not leave as she had thought he would. He pressed a kiss, slowly, on her temple and another on the corner of her mouth.

"Legolas-" She murmured, her breath catching in her throat once again. Hearing the way she uttered his name, Legolas groaned a little, lifting his mouth once more to claim hers.

Too soon, he pulled away again. "Not tonight." He hummed softly, dipping his face to her neck to kiss her jaw chastely.

Mirren was glad the pole of the tent was at her back because she thought she might have fallen if not for its support.

Sighing, she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest so that she could hear and feel the steadiness of his heartbeat against her.

"Not tonight." She repeated, slowly in elvish. Convincing herself, she knew, as well as him.

Legolas closed his eyes for a moment, as if in anguish and then pulled away. His hands remained entwined with hers all the way to the edge of the tent as he turned and made it there in two purposeful strides. He paused stiffly, but did not look back.

The cloth of the tent flapped lightly in a small breeze.

As the distance forced them to separate, Mirren's fingers halted in mid air and futility grasped for him in the space where the ellon had been.

Not tonight. She breathed heavily, unaware that she had begun to pace the room until her boots hit the frame of the bed and she collapsed onto it with a distracted sigh.

Not tonight.

In her dream she saw Legolas once again through a shrouded mist, he stood rigid at the prow of a boat and the elleth knew this was the scene she had glimpsed on the banks of the Nimrodel so long ago.

Trying hard to look past him, the northern banks of the river they travelled where just as she remembered, the ashen ruins of cities casting a darkness over the ground despite the light of the fire that burned across the white rock. The destruction of Gondor, she now knew, was being revealed to her by the Valar. But why?

She forced herself to look further, holding onto the dream even as the images started to drift away. Turning, Mirren was frozen in place at the sight of Aragorn behind her. At his back, a flag of black and pure white flapped, but its magnificence was a mere background to the scene. Wielding a once broken sword, he was no longer a lowly ranger, but a king; a commander, shining through the fog of her vision so brightly the elleth had to squint as it was torn from her-

-Snapping her eyes open, the elleth's heart thumped wildly as she all but flew from the bed, hunching over herself as she tried to control her breathing. Frantically, she glanced around the room wondering if the vision of her friend had followed her to the plains of reality.

It took her a few minutes to shake of it's brightness.

Thankful that the tent was empty, Mirren swung her legs haphazardly over the bed and wiped the sleep from her eyes, sighing into her palms tiredly.

"Mirren?" The call came from outside the tent and the Daughter of the Sea stood at the sound of it, reaching for her weapons.

When Legolas peered through the entryway, she was standing stiffly, a vision of war herself with father's horn gripped tightly in her left hand as she swung the strap across her chest.

"What is it?" She asked cautiously, stepping forward to find his fingers in the dark and link them with her own. Distractedly she wiped some wild hairs from her forehead as she await his reply.

"A surprise…" He murmured, noticing the vision- swept wildness of her gaze and tugging her from the tent gently.

Stepping outside, the coolness of the dawn was refreshing and she surveyed the camp around them with bright eyes. Nervous soldiers talked in quiet and hushed voices… and when she had blinked the sleep from her eyes Mirren could not contain her gasp-

"Elladan! Elrohir!"

"My Lady!" The chorused, spotting the elleth instantly through the night crowded with Rohirrim.

Quickly she ran and hugged her friends, catching them equally by surprise. Still, they gently patted her back before she released them and studied each of their young faces.

"You've been keeping out of trouble?" She asked, taking a step back to survey them properly.

Elrond's sons looked as bright as ever, as if they had been untouched by the growing darkness of the land and merely thrived in the adventure of it all. Feeling old for the first time in her long years, Mirren envied a little of the brightness in their eyes, but loved them nonetheless for it.

"Rather trouble found us, Mirren." Elrohir contradicted her words, a small smirk gracing his flawless features, "…I found Halbarad as you asked… the old fellow is a lot more fun than you let on in Imladris!"

Rolling her eyes at the ellon, Mirren looked past the twins to find the ranger they spoke of, standing at the sound of his name from the fire where, from the looks of it, he had recently settled.

Turning, Halbarad smiled grimly, drinking in the sight of Cirdan's daughter who he had known since his childhood, long ago in the North. "I did not think we'd meet again like this, my lady." He greeted, stepping from the fire towards her.

"Halbarad!" She grinned, grasping his shoulder with her hand.

The Captain of the Dunedain had aged since she had seen him last, his long hair was greying and the crease between his eyebrows deeply set. Still, his green eyes glinted almost magically through the night.

"I am more than pleased you have come." Despite the shakiness she had felt after her dream, Mirren couldn't contain her smile.

"-With 200 more of our Northern friends." Elladan expressed proudly, looping his arm through hers for a moment as he gestured to the dark-cloaked riders they had silently arrived with in the night. "We make a pretty grey sight.'"

Mirren turned then and grinned brightly at Legolas, "Does Aragorn know?"

"He's taking council now with our father." Elrohir explained cutting in before the prince and looking between them suspiciously.

"Elrond has come?" She questioned, ignoring his look as if she hadn't seen it.

"He has re-forged Narsil… Arwen gave him strict instructions to deliver it to Estel himself." Elladan answered more seriously than his brother. Something flashed in Mirren's eyes then, bright silver, and if any of the ellon's around her saw it, they gave no comment; knowing the power of her visions and the weight they held if wrongfully spoken of.

"Arwen?" Mirren asked, feeling she had too much to learn and so little time to understand.

"She did not sail, as you thought." Legolas told her, pulling her closely to him by her waist.

"This is beyond what I dared to hope." She breathed happily, curving her own hand around Legolas.

The movement did not go unnoticed by Elrond's sons.

"So…It seems our fears have come to pass." Elrohir sighed wistfully,

Furrowing her eyebrows, Mirren's eyes darted between them questioningly, "What is it?"

Dropping his gaze to their arms, Elrohir smirked, "Our lovely lady seems to have been claimed by a pesky woodland Prince."

Mirren blushed deeply, lifting her spare palm to drift through her unkempt braids a little awkwardly.

Elladan grinned, "We knew we should have acted sooner-"

"-And now it will be forever our curse to travel alone!" Elrohir cried dramatically, bringing his hand to his heart. Elladan grinned next to him but more soberly leant forward to clasp her shoulder.

"We are glad you have found happiness, my friend."

"-You definitely took your time!" Elrohir added playfully.

Mirren didn't know if he was referring to Legolas or herself but nevertheless she slapped his shoulder lightly.

"Shut it or I'll tell your father."

Elladan raised a weary eyebrow and quickly closed his mouth. "You still drive a hard bargain then…It seems not all things have changed."

Feeling much lighter at the ellon's presence, Mirren ignored their joking and looked towards the King's tent as Aragorn stumbled out of it, looking a little bewildered.

"We will be leaving soon." Mirren foretold, sending a quick glance to the cleft in the mountain and the thick fog that seemed to flow from it. "Are you riding with us?" She tried to keep the hope out of her voice and thought she had little success.

Mirren's hopeful tone fuelled the grins on Elrohir and Elladan's face and they nodded lightly in unison. "You couldn't keep us away, my lady."

"We made Arwen a promise." Elladan agreed, dropping his hand to his sword.

Nodding proudly, Mirren squeezed Legolas' hand as Elrond's sons bowed lightly to her and turned to reassemble their company. "We should saddle the horses and tell Merry."

The ellon hummed in agreement, "I'll find Gimli and bring Hausfel to you."

Squeezing his hand, Mirren set off to find the Hobbit and prepare for the Paths of the Dead; feeling a lot lighter than she had when she had awoken in the darkness of her tent.

"Just where do you think you're off to?" Gimli's grumbling question halted the footsteps of the Ranger who waked alone across Théoden's camp, prepared to face his fate alone.

"Not this time." Aragorn shook his head firmly, "This time you must stay Gimli."

Grumbling, the dwarf lifted an unconvinced eyebrow. "Hmm."

Over Aragorn's shoulder, a shadow seemed to move through the dark and Mirren and Legolas emerged from the night.

"Have you learnt nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas asked. A little smugly, he grinned at the surprise in Aragorn's eyes as he led Arod and Hausefel beside the Ranger.

Slightly amused, Aragorn raised an eyebrow of his own, unable to find the will in him to argue against his friends.

"There's nowhere you go where we won't follow, my friend." Mirren voiced, flashing a bright smile though the night.

"You might as well accept it!" Gimli decided, " We're going with you laddie-"

"-And it looks like we will have more company than usual." Legolas nodded over Gimli's shoulder as Elrond's sons approached, Dunedain proudly in tow.

Grinning, Aragorn nodded in defeat and the riders mounted in silence, heading finally for the cleft in the cliff - and the fate that awaited them all in the mountain of the dead.

Gripping Hausfel's reins tightly, Mirren steeled her courage, focusing on the brightness of her vision of Aragorn; clinging to the hope that they would make it to their enemies Black ships which awaited them on the other side of the mountain.