"Wait, just so I understand this…you shot the King of the Dead through the forehead with an arrow?" Nemireth was sitting up in her bed, arms wrapped around her knees as she cocked her head in confusion.

Legolas sat back and chuckled, still wearing the same armour and clothing as the battle; face grimy and hair streaked with dirt, "I attempted to at least."

"Was he not annoyed?"

"I fear he may not even have noticed."

"Maybe you missed."

The Elf's smiled vanished, "I did not miss."

"I don't know," Her voice was light, a playful smile across her lips, "It sounds like you missed."

"I hit him right here," He tapped her forehead gently with his finger, making her giggle, "And it went right through the back of his head. I could hear the arrow clattering in the distance."

"And he still didn't feel like mentioning it?"

"Well, Aragorn was wielding Anduril at the time so that had rather taken his attention."

"I meant to ask actually, how did Aragorn get that new sword?" The Ranger was moving between the beds, tending to the wounded who remained in the hall. Though it had been some days since the battle, already the number of residents had thinned considerably. She was trying not to think of those who had been most wounded and what their fates had been. "It's a big upgrade on his old one."

"Elrond delivered it to our camp the night before we rode into the Paths of the Dead."

"Really? I don't suppose he wanted to hang around for the battle itself?"

Another chuckle, "He did not."

"I suppose not." She settled back with a sigh that quickly turned into a wince as she tried to stretch. Already she was feeling tired and it was starting to claw at her nerves. It had been like this for days; she would awake for a few minutes at a time only to find sleep again tugging at her and try as she might, she could not resist. As surely as night would follow day, she would slip from this world and remain so for time indeterminate. Each time she awoke, she knew not the day or the hour, disorientated and frightened. Each time, Legolas was there holding her hand, an anchor, a rallying point, the one stable thing she could rely upon. Each time the light pierced her eyes, she fully expected him to be gone, to have given up or gone for the rest he deserved but no, each time he was there, waiting.

He had certainly noticed her wince and his smile slipped, "Perhaps you should rest."

"It feels like I've done nothing but rest for years, Legolas." She sighed, unable to hide the resultant pain from him anymore than she could have hidden a castle, "I think I'm going mad from sleep."

"I do not think you needed the sleep for that."

"Ha-ha," She rolled her eyes, "Keep the comedy for Gimli. How much longer do you think it will be before I can return to my duties?"

"That depends, my lady," It was a new voice, soft but strong as Aragorn strode into view, arms folded, eyes dropping to her heavily bandaged side, visible even through the gown she wore, "On how you conduct your current duty."

"Aragorn," She bowed her head to him, the most graceful gesture she could manage in her current position and which he returned, "What new duty is this?"

"Rest, my lady. Rest and recover your strength."

"Can I command my men and perform this new duty?"

"From what I hear, Captain Karos is proving an able deputy in your absence. This is your most pressing concern now. Your injuries were severe, Nemireth, and you serve no one by risking further harm."

The Princess rolled her eyes but it was hard to protest his reasoning, and that intense, kingly gaze made it even harder to argue. She contented herself with a theatrical sigh, "Fine. I will rest. But if I go mad from all this lying around, then I will hold you responsible."

Aragorn chuckled, "I will accept that blame gladly."

"So how does it feel to be king?"

"Not much different to how it felt to be a ranger," He rolled his shoulders, "Events have seen me distracted, so it has not yet dawned on me."

"Could be, or it could just be that you have a talent for it."

"Perhaps," He smiled wanly and patted her gently on the shoulder, "I must move on, but we will speak again soon, Nemireth," As he turned to go, the Ranger (King! She had to remind herself he was ranger no longer) shared a glance with Legolas and received an ever so slight nod in response. That drew a sigh from the woman.

"What?" Legolas lifted an eyebrow.

"I know that look. That keep-an-eye-on-her look."

"Someone has to. Take our eyes off you for one moment and we will probably find you wrestling a troll on the Black Gates."

"Curses, how did you guess my plan?" She stifled a yawn, "Only could you ask the troll to come here? It's a very long way just to wrestle."

Legolas had to suppress a sigh, but his smile brought one from her in return and a warm, simple joy even as she fought to stay awake.

"Rest, Nemireth," He placed a hand in hers and squeezed, helping her to settle under the simple cotton sheet, "We can speak again when you wake."

She could barely keep her eyes open, each blink longer and longer before she could force them open, to look into his cool, blue eyes, to see his soft, encouraging smile and she shivered, "But what if I don't wake, Legolas? What if this is it?"

"Enough," He squeezed tighter at her hand, "You will wake and I will be here when you do. We will speak again." He leant in and kissed her forehead, a gentle touch of his lips that saw her resistance just melt away. Before he could even withdraw, Nemireth was asleep once again.

When she next awoke (When? Hours? Days? How could she know? Did time even matter any longer?) she found it was not just Legolas with her but a figure sitting at the end of her bed in a gown not dissimilar to her own, golden hair trailing down her back.

"Éowyn!" Nemireth tried to jump up but the pain forced her back with a gasp. Legolas came forward and eased her into the only position she could sit. Only then did the Maiden of Rohan approach and the two embraced, arms wrapped around each other as tightly as they could bear.

Only after what felt like an eternity did they part, Nemireth wiping tears from her eyes, "Éowyn, thank the Valar and the Winds alike that you're okay…"

"And you," She was paler than the Princess remembered, her lines a little deeper, her eyes a little sadder and glassy with tears, "When they said you were…I thought you would…"

Nemireth felt she should retort, something witty and cutting but when she looked into Éowyn's eyes it was all she could do to bring her in for another hug, holding it even longer than before.

"Nemireth," Éowyn spoke softly from her shoulder, "My uncle. He-"

"-Legolas told me what happened." She murmured back, words for no one but her friend, "Théoden fought as bravely as any king could fight. They'll speak of what he did here, for all the ages left of this earth. When the world needed him most, he answered the call. He's in the halls now, Éowyn; with his forefathers, with Théodred. And I know they're smiling on you and Éomer both."

"Thank you…" Éowyn whispered before they pulled apart, only now seeming to look at the thick pad that sat against Nemireth's side, "Does it hurt?"

"A bit," The Princess showed off the range of motion she had, such as it was, "Okay, a lot. How about you? When they found you I thought…" She found herself choked, unable to go any further.

Éowyn rolled back her sleeve to reveal deep scars across her forearm, ugly and jagged as if a hawk had dragged its claws through her skin.

"Oh Éowyn…" Nemireth felt herself tear up again.

"It doesn't really hurt," The Shieldmaiden sighed, "Only sometimes and when it happens it's…unbearable. Lord Aragorn…his majesty…tells me it's normal when one kills a wraith."

"Legolas told me of that as well," Nemireth leant in and took her pale hand in her own, "Éowyn…you killed a wraith! Not just that, you killed the Witch-king himself! They'll sing tales of that feat until the end of time."

"So I've been told," She sighed, "But I would trade it all, everything, if it could mean having my uncle back."

"I know," Nemireth stroked at her hand gently, "I wish the same, but we must do what we can in their stead. He'd be proud of you, Éowyn. As proud as I am."

That brought about another hug, what was to be one of many as the two women sat together. No further words passed between them. No words needed to.

"So, Pippin, we just tell each other riddles, correct?"

"Precisely, my lady!" Pippin was practically bouncing at the end of the bed, bubbling with enthusiasm and life now that Merry was alongside him. He was wearing an expression that suggested this was a moment of upmost seriousness and that made her laugh. Her mood had only been buoyed by seeing him up and well, seemingly no worse for wear from his encounter with the Witch-King. She suspected his pain came and went, much like the grinning Eowyn perched beside him on the bed. That, or the hobbit was simply too full of concentration for the game they were about to play, "I shall tell a riddle to Merry and he has to guess the answer. If he gets it right-"

"Which I will."

"No you won't."

"Of course I will. I know all your riddles, Pip. You've never beaten me once at riddles."

"Have to!"

"Have not!"

"Have to!"

"Have no-"

"Gentlemen," Legolas cleared his throat, while Gimli sighed, the bed sagging considerably where the dwarf had plonked his armoured self, "Even I only have so long to play this game."

"Oh yes, sorry. Well, I shall tell my riddle to Merry and if he guesses wrong, then he is out of the game. If he guesses right, then he gets to ask Gimli a riddle. So, it continues around the group, Gimli to Éowyn, Éowyn to Nemireth, Nemireth to Legolas and then back to me? Does that make sense to everyone?"

"I think so," Éowyn shared a look with Nemireth that didn't betray a lot of confidence.

"Okay! Then I'll start," Pippin turned to Merry with all the flair of a performer, "I am not alive, but I grow; I don't have lungs, but I need air; I don't have a mouth, but water kills me. What am I?"

"Fire!" Merry's reaction was immediate.

Pippin's smile dropped, "I started with an easy one!"

The other hobbit snorted as he turned to Gimli, drawing himself up. Even here, in the healing halls, the dwarf was adorned in his full battle armour, axe propped against the bed, "I make two people out of one. What am I?"

"Ha! You will have to do better than that, young hobbit!" Gimli snorted, "You are a mirror, my lad."

"Oh," Merry's face brought a round of laughter to the bed and though Nemireth did her best, she could keep herself from wincing at the pain that ran down her side. It seemed that Legolas was the only one who noticed though, watching her even though his laughter did not abate.

Gimli was beaming beneath his beard as he looked to Éowyn, "I am gentle enough to soothe your skin, light enough to fly in the sky and strong enough to crack stone. What am I?"

"Um," Éowyn looked to Nemireth who shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "I've never been good at riddles…"

"Me either…" Nemireth sighed, "Join forces?"

"Join forces."

"Hey, you can't do that-" Pippin started, alarmed but Gimli laughed aloud and waved away his concerns.

"Go ahead! Aeanor and Rohan combined cannot outwit the wisdom of the Lonely Mountain!"

So Éowyn sidled up the bed towards Nemireth and the two of them began whispering into one another's ears. All the others leant in except for Legolas who leant back in his chair and sighed, shaking his head.

"Okay!" They parted, Éowyn clearing her throat before the waiting crowd. A quick glance to Nemireth confirmed their answer. A deep breath before at last, she answered, "Water!"

"Hmph," Gimli folded his arms together, "Impressive, lassies. We should not have let them join like that."

"Well, it was either that or something else," Éowyn giggled and drew in Nemireth and it was only with considerable elbowing at one another that they got themselves under control.

Gimli's expression had not changed but he shook his head with a huff, "We definitely should not have allowed it."

"Okay, my ladies, your turn to ask one of Legolas," Pippin gestured to the elf who sat in his chair with his arms folded, a casual air about him as he waited.

"Okay," The two princesses got back to whispering, muttering and giggling with coy looks in the elf's direction that did raise an eyebrow of his before at last they settled; Nemireth licking her lips as she spoke;

"I follow you by day, by night I blend right in but no one sees me except when I'm in the light. What am I?"

"You are a shadow." A sly smile.

"That was quick," Éowyn seemed taken aback, "You have heard it before?"

"Perhaps."

"I think it was a lucky guess," Nemireth shook her head, regarding Legolas in the eye.

"We shall see, will we not, Princess?"

She poked her tongue out in the most childish of manners but it just made him laugh.

And so around it went again until Gimli again stood before them with a gleam in his eye the Princess had never seen outside of battle;

"See if you can get this one, pronounced as one letter, and written with three, two letters there are, and two only in me. I'm double, I'm single, I'm black, blue, and gray, I'm read from both ends, And the same either way. What am I?"

Éowyn had been taking a drink and snorted it back up as he spoke, looking to her partner with an expression of utter bewilderment.

"Are you sure that was a riddle Gimli and not some dwarven incantation?" Nemireth asked.

"It was a riddle, lassies, good luck in answering it."

The two resumed their urgent whisperings but it wasn't look before Nemireth tutted loudly and looked to him; "Is this some bizarre creature from the Lonely Mountain we've never seen?"

"Haha! It is not!"

"What is it then?"

"Aah, ye have to guess!"

"We give up, what is it?"

"Sorry, lassie," He looked about as unapologetic as it was possible to be but it was hard to stay truly annoyed at his cheerful demeanour, "You'll have to wait for the answer!"

"This is a foolish game anyway," Nemireth sat back, arms folded and sulked.

"So, sorry my ladies, you're out," Pippin did at least have the grace to look apologetic before he looked to Legolas, "So now-"

"-Okay, Elf!" Gimli was beaming, "I ask the same of you! I am pronounced as one letter-"

"Eye."

"What?"

"The answer is eye."

"How did you get that?"

"I knew the answer."

"But how?"

"Gimli," Legolas rolled his eyes and sighed, "I have walked this earth for two and a half thousand years. I have travelled every road from the Lonely Mountain to the Shire. Are there are few riddles that I have not yet heard."

"Huh, should never have let the elf play," Now Gimli leant back, bed groaning in protest as he folded his arms.

"Is the answer truly 'eye'?" Nemireth asked in disbelief. Gimli's huffed breath was the answer, to which the Princess sat back with her arms folded, shaking her head and sighing theatrically, sharing a look with Éowyn.

So around the group again went the riddles, Nemireth more than happy to sit and watch, folding her arms around her legs once more and eyes on each challenger.

"My life can be measured in hours, I serve by being devoured. Thin, I am quick. Fat, I am slow. Wind is my foe. What am I?"

"You are a candle, Pip! My turn, I am light as a feather, yet no man can hold it for long. What am I?"

"Your breath, laddie! Your breath! Now, try this Elf; The more you take away, the more I become. What am I?"

"A hole, or a ditch."

"Bah! That was a lucky guess!"

"Pippin, I run through hills; I veer around mountains. I leap over rivers and crawl through the forests. Step out your door to find me. What am I?"

"Hmm, are you a road?"

"Excellent, I am indeed."

"Okay, guess this one Merry; I am two-faced but bare only one, I have no legs but travel widely. Men spill much blood over me, kings leave there imprint on me. I have greatest power when given away, yet lust for me keeps me locked away. What am I?"

"What? I've never heard that one before!"

"Faramir taught it to me! Do you know the answer?"

"…are you a sword?"

"Ha! No, I'm a coin!"

"I was going to say coin!"

"You were not!"

"Was to!"

"Gentlemen?"

"Ah yes, Gimli; The more there is the less you see. What is it?"

"The wisdom of elves!"

That brought laughter around the bed once more, Legolas join in the chuckles as Gimli lifted himself from the bed, axe in hand; "I must see to the gates but laddie? Don't let the elf win!" He patted him on the shoulder as he departed.

The back and forth resumed, an elven prince of the Woodland Realm trading riddles with a hobbit of the Shire and a Guard of the Citadel. On and on they went until, at least, Éowyn cleared her throat; "I think, boys," She stood and stretched, "We may have to call it a draw."

"Very well, Pippin?"

"I'm happy to call it a draw. I was starting to run out of riddles." The two shook hands and, with a bow and a wave to Nemireth, they departed.

Once they were gone, Nemireth sat back and puffed her cheeks out, "That was…impressive."

"The young hobbit is an excellent wordsmith," Legolas nodded, "It has been a long time since I was tested so by a riddle."

"Back when I was in Rivendell," A felt like an age ago now, "I remember Bilbo telling me of how he came to own the Ring, how he defeated Gollum in a riddles game."

"Quite the prize," The Elf chuckled, "It is as well you were not competing against him, else the ring would still be in the Misty Mountains."

"I didn't have time for silly word games," The Princess settled, feeling sleep creep upon her once more. This time she had no desire to resist, "I was too busy learning how to put my armour on properly."

"And I thought a princess would be well read."

A snort, most unladylike came from Nemireth, "Whatever gave you that idea?" She yawned deeply, "It was nice though…"

"What was, my lady?"

"To think of something other than…" She trailed off as her eyes fell closed, unable even to finish her sentence before the deep darkness of sleep embraced her