AN: Sorry about the confusion with the false update alarm. I had uploaded a chapter and then realized that I forgot a very important scene, so I took it down to correct that. I wish there was some way to notify all you readers without posting a chapter that's just the author's note; those are annoying. Anyways, please enjoy what I came up with.

Chapter 38: Riders of Rohan

With skill that only the Rohirrim had in Middle Earth, the company whirled around and in mere minutes had surrounded us in a neat circle. That their spears were raised against us was disconcerting.

"Cass?" Matt's voice made me relax immediately; we wouldn't accidentally get murdered by our allies.

The spears immediately were withdrawn and I saw Aragorn draw a subtle breath of relief.

Matt was almost unrecognizable in his beautiful armor and helmet, still stick thin but comfortable on a horse like I had never seen any of my family. When he took his helmet off, I was impressed by the slightly curly short beard he had grown. "Cass, Strider, Boromir, what are you doing here?"

He didn't pause for answers, just swept me up in a giant hug and made a huge, "Oof!" when he couldn't quite lift me anymore. "Brother," he greeted Aragorn right after, and then Boromir.

"You know these people?" Eomer asked and dismounted his own horse.

I let out a mock-insulted little huff.

"Hello, Cassandra," Eomer told me pointedly, then brought Boromir into one of those manly hugs with their clasped hands between them. "Who are your friends and what brought you here?" he asked and eyed our friends warily.

"This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Boromir introduced, "Legolas of Mirkwood, and Gimli of the Lonely Mountain. Friends, this is my friend Eomer, Third Marshal."

"And this dork is my sister Mackey's husband Matt," I added, pointing at the man with my thumb.

For once Matt was serious, asking Aragorn in a hushed voice, "Is it Gollum again?"

My eyebrows jumped up and I exchanged looks with Boromir. So that's what Aragorn and Matt had gone looking for all those years ago!

"No, not Gollum," Aragorn replied quietly.

I saw Eomer's eyes narrow.

"Two of our friends were taken by orcs," I butted in before any harsh words could be exchanged, "Matt, you remember those little rascals who rearranged our stuff last time we were in the Shire?"

"Didn't you want to string them up by their toes?" he asked.

I flopped an arm at him. "Shit happened, we're friends now. Any news of a big band of orcs running like the wind, or hobbits?" I asked, almost holding my breath.

"We slaughtered the orcs during the night," Eomer told me, frowning, "We found none but orcs."

"They're about this tall," I put a hand to my chest to demonstrate, "Curly hair, hairy feet. They're wearing the same kind of cloaks as us."

"Halflings," Boromir clarified.

A rider behind Gimli let out a guffaw. "Halflings! Creatures out of children's stories!" he exclaimed.

"They're as real as you and me, Eothain," Matt called out.

"We found no halflings or any creature other than orcs," Eomer answered, "It was a large band and you would have been slaughtered, had you found them. How far over our lands have they come?" Clearly he worried about the security of the borders; was this why we found no one in all the long miles?

"We pursued them from Parth Galen, at the shores of the Anduin," Aragorn replied carefully.

The reminder made me groan. "Thank god they're dead, I can't deal with a sixth day of fucking running," I said, mostly to Boromir.

Of course Eomer heard that, and amazement replaced the confused frown on his face. "You've come to this place in only five days, on foot?" he questioned, clearly impressed.

"Yeah, this is day five of running our asses off," I confirmed.

"Strider, you called yourself," Eomer told Strider, "But that is too poor a name for such a deed as this. Wingfoot, I name you!"

I couldn't help a snicker at the idea of Aragorn actually introducing himself that way.

"It is forty-five leagues from Parth Galen to here. This is a pursuit that should become legend!" Eomer told us, seeming unable to believe his eyes or ears.

"How many miles is that?" I whispered to Matt.

He made a face. "Times three…" he muttered to himself before he answered, "A hundred, thirty-five."

My eyes bulged and mouth dropped open. "What?" I squeaked, ignoring the men's conversation for now.

"Dude." Matt began to giggle. "You just did a marathon a day for five days straight! Liam can stick that in his pipe and smoke it!"

I burst into laughter at the look I imagined on my youngest brother's face. "Oh my god, nobody's ever going to believe this!" I cackled. Tears filled my eyes between my laughter and how much I missed my family.

Matt and I had to lean against each other to keep from falling over, holding our stomachs for several long, joyous minutes. How long has it been since I laughed like this? It felt so good, even if it made my sides hurt again.

"Ow, ow!" Still I giggled even as I clutched and rubbed my sides.

"Careful, Mackey would murder me if she thought I hurt you," Matt said, breaking out into chuckles again.

I snickered and shook my head. "She loves you too much to really kill you," I said, airing what we already knew.

"Yeah. But, well, there's not much helping you either-" The laughter died down to nervous chuckles as Matt began to play with his curly ponytail. "We kinda sorta got banished."

"What?" I squawked yet again. "Banished?"

He huffed and sneered. "You seem to be the only one who can keep Grima in line- he got his slimy claws into King Theoden's mind somehow and put some kind of ageing spell on him- he looks like he's going to turn to dust the second somebody touches him too hard- and now Wormtongue is strutting around like he's king." His nostrils flared with his temper.

"Why isn't Theodred doing something?" I questioned, dreading the answer.

"He's MIA," Matt replied, one of the worst things that he could have said, "His eored got totally wiped out at the Fords of Isen but we never found him."

I let out an Arabic curse. Combined with Eomer and Matt being banished, Andy and Mackey were almost completely boned. "If he wasn't found, what do you think the odds are that he's alive?" I asked with far more hope than I should have been able to muster.

"Either that or his body was taken," Matt replied, "We searched but couldn't spend too much time on all the hidden nooks and crannies. He might have gone looking for shelter."

We exchanged a grim look. First two of my friends were taken and now one of my brothers-in-law was missing? Things only seemed to get worse, the further on this mad quest I went.

"Hasufel! Arod! Freya!" Eomer called, distracting me.

Three horses came forward, one white, one chestnut, and one liver chestnut. Immediately Legolas went to the white one, while the chestnut approached Aragorn.

"May they bear you to better fortune than their former masters," Eomer told us, voice dark, "Trust not to hope. It has forsaken this land." He then went back and jumped up on his horse.

The riders began to turn away from our group.

Hastily Matt and I had one last hug before he had to get into the saddle. "Don't let Eomer get you down," he said cheerily, "When things get bad, people become their best. Hopefully we'll see each other again soon!" He then hurried to catch up to the rest of his eored.

For a long moment, those of us left only stared after the retreating riders. Then we all got on the horses; I stubbornly climbed up behind Boromir, making him put his shield on a saddle hook. No matter how conflicted I felt about him now that I had a minute to think about something other than, you know, running and my friends being tortured and such.

On a conscious level, I forgave him for what happened on Parth Galen. Seeing a face I was pretty sure was Sauron's sealed my judgement that it wasn't completely Boromir's fault. Not the 'trying to kill me' part of things.

But how could I feel safe when I knew what his hands felt like around my neck? (And not in a kinky way either.) The ring made his reaction extreme but he was still able to believe that I was a threat. A threat that he was willing to deal with in the most permanent of ways.

This odyssey would make a marriage counsellor's head explode, I thought with a little scoff.

I let myself slump against Boromir's back and closed my eyes. Better to get a nap while I could, I decided as I adjusted to the rhythmic jostling.

Sleep failed to come.

Boromir let out a breath of relief when he felt Cass slump against his back. That she was willing to sleep within a league of him was a miracle after-

His heart constricted painfully.

How could he have let the Ring convince him of such lies? Now that he was out from beneath its shadow he knew in his heart that his every thought about Cass was a lie. How could he have been convinced by the enemy, when he knew better?

That she was willing to even think of forgiving him, even conditionally, he wondered at. That attempting to murder her wasn't her limit- Boromir worried that she forgave too easily.

He didn't deserve it at all. Too many times during this quest had he lost his temper at her, guarded himself from her, pushed her away. For a brief moment he wondered what his mother would say, were she to know what kind of a man he had been lately.

It sent a long slide of shame through him. Not even Father would condone such behavior toward-

His wife. The person that he had dreamed for years of bringing home and spending his life with. It seemed like a faraway dream that they would live long enough to live it out, not only because of the war but because of his own actions.

Legolas laughed and it made Boromir clench his jaw with the acknowledgement of how lucky he was. With his behavior, he was fortunate that Cass hadn't sought affection elsewhere. The elf had been remarkably straightforward in Lothlorien, warning Boromir that though he had no designs on his friend, others may try to take advantage of their marital discord.

Of course that had sent his mind straight toward Aragorn. Now that he was back in his right mind, he was horribly ashamed of his lack of faith in both of them; that he could remember there had never been any behavior between them that was beyond what Cass demonstrated with a friend. Which was closer than Gondorian high society would approve of but still within acceptable bounds. And wasn't Aragorn in a relationship with Lord Elrond's daughter? He seemed like a smarter man than would anger an elf-lord.

Now that he was within his right mind, Boromir acknowledged that he owed Cass for thinking that she would do such a thing. Not in all her years of waiting had she had anyone else. Even with her general mistrust of people, she had chosen to trust him, chosen him to teach her that people were more than the knaves and snakes she knew.

And he had, to borrow her words, fucked it up royally.

As he rode toward Fangorn, Boromir made a vow to himself. From now on, he would be a better man. He would never manhandle his wife or doubt her loyalty to him again.

Fangorn wasn't far away and the stench of burning bodies got me up before Boromir could shoulder me awake. It was even worse than the time I went to the Ganges with Pitaajee and Kali, making me hide my nose in my (stinky) shirt.

Reluctantly I slid out of the saddle and with the end of my halberd poked a pile of bodies. "Gross," I muttered to myself at the smell, like a wild hog getting burnt whole. The scorched hair and pork smell was nauseating.

"Merry! Pippin!" I called just in case they had hidden and were nearby.

There was no answer.

A gasp from Gimli caught my attention. He was much more actively searching the bodies and his trembling hand held something long and silver, something that sent my heart into my throat. "It's one of their wee belts," he said, voice cracking.

Legolas's shoulders slumped and he said a little prayer.

It was Strider's reaction that surprised me. The whole length of the fellowship he had been cool and calm and with a plan, but now he kicked a helmet several yards into the treeline, screaming.

I wished I could find the voice to scream. Denial ripped through my head. They couldn't be dead, they just had to be alive. I wasn't quite sure what I would do if we lost Merry and Pippin, after I failed to protect them.

Boromir's hand took my shoulder and automatically I jumped. "You did your best," he said, trying to comfort me while he looked like he just got kicked in the gut.

It was barely even a crumb of help. "Gimli, are there any other signs of their bodies in that pile?" I asked, perhaps a bit snappishly, "A foot, a hand, anything?"

Blinking tears from his eyes, he sifted a bit further through the pile of burnt corpses. "None," he said hoarsely.

"Then they're MIA. Unless we find them, they're just missing in action," I stated stubbornly, wondering if I was still listed as MIA at home. Or had that verdict turned to 'dead' already?

Aragorn's murmuring voice drew me from my thoughts, pointing out where each hobbit laid. He sat back, smiled grimly to himself, and then noticed something that I would have completely missed. A ranger, indeed, I thought, impressed when he found the cut rope.

He followed the hobbits' footprints- and their pursuers- to the treeline of the forest. But not beyond, clearly wary of the place.

"So this is Fangorn, huh?" I asked unnecessarily. There wasn't exactly another forest nearby.

Normally I like the woods. They're beautiful, peaceful places to escape hot weather or just the bustle of everyday life. But the boughs of this place seemed to crouch over me like they were about to pounce, wild and hungry. I was reminded of the Hoia-Baciu forest in Romania with how malevolent a feeling I got from it.

Images crossed my mind that weren't mine, red blood splattered on bark.

This forest didn't want me there.

Like everyone else I readied my weapon, but I made no motion to enter the trees. Instead I kept Freya's reins in hand while I stroked her neck.

"Cass? Are you not coming?" Boromir asked, halfway to the treeline when he realized I wasn't there.

"No, I don't think I am," I answered, barely glancing at where the others stood waiting; I was too busy watching the treetops sway, "The forest doesn't want me to enter." I licked suddenly dry lips as a few tree branches seemed to quiver in excitement.

"Fangorn is unsettled," Legolas stated as he gazed up and around.

I pulled a brush from the dead man's saddlebags that Freya had been carrying. "I'll look after the horses while you're in there," I assured the men, "They deserve a brushing down and some water."

Halfway to himself, Aragorn nodded. "If we do not return by the third sunrise, ride for Edoras," he ordered.

"Yes sir," I replied jokingly with a little salute.

Aragorn shook his head and with a slight smile turned to head further into the woods.

My eyes went to Boromir, meeting him in the eye for a long moment. Concern was etched into his face; we were so very close to Isengard and here I was without cover.

I winked at him. "See ya in a few," I told him.

A short nod and he heaved his shield over his shoulder.

It was unsettling to see the forest swallow them up in green darkness. The entire area seemed unnatural in how natural it was, a place that played by the world's harshest, cruelest rules. Awkwardly I mentally thanked it for the warning. I was more than happy with the risk of staying out in the open, comparatively.

Just as I said, I gave all three horses a brushing down and took them to a little stream half a mile away for water. I'll admit that just a few inches upstream from them, I dunked my own face into the water and began to slurp like a barbarian. It just felt so good on skin that was still overheated from my run.

Either I was going to brag about that the first chance I got, or I was never in my life speaking of it again, I decided. That run was absolute fucking torture. Until the men returned or I had to leave for Edoras, I wouldn't know if it was in vain; that was possibly the worst part.

Despite how cold the water was, I took the opportunity to rinse off. The stink and sweat from running was nearly unbearable now that I had a few moments to stop and feel it. While there was no option to wash my clothes, I was still able to clean my skin a bit and that was heaven. Even with my dancing squeals of discomfort at the temperature.

Unfortunately, my mind always crept to Boromir. Sauron. The link between them. Between us, I realized as I led the horses back to where we had left my friends.

That goddamned maiar was wrapped up almost as tight in us as we were in each other; possessing him, watching me, he was always there. I really didn't appreciate it.

For the first time in days I thought of Frodo and Sam. How were they managing the steep slopes and wretched bogs? I hoped that they were on their way and healthy.

Voices caught my attention from inside the treeline.

" will find that they are strong," said a male voice that I swore I knew.

A little whisper of Aragorn's voice followed, then the two voices laughed.

That was Gandalf's voice, I realized with a painful constriction of my heart. But he was dead, that was impossible, I told myself.

Wasn't he the equivalent of an angel, though? I argued back. Nothing is impossible for the holy around here.

Yes, but Saruman is right next door, I remembered right as my friends all reappeared. They were unhurt and looked joyful, Gimli wiping away tears of emotion.

The man who walked with them wore white under a grey cloak like we wore; his hair was smooth and white from scalp to beard. He had Gandalf's face and it made my heart ache. Upon seeing me, his mouth widened in a smile and the twinkle in his eye intensified.

"Gandalf?" I asked, voice cracking, just to make sure.

"Hello, dear girl," the man in white said in Gandalf's voice.

That was it; I launched myself at him with arms wide open, making him take a step back to brace himself. His laugh echoed from his chest where my ear had come to rest.

"Gandalf," I whispered against the embroidery on his breastbone. The green leaf pin on his cloak finally settled all my qualms; there was no way Saruman could possibly fool Lady Galadriel.

My back was patted several times before I could stand to let go of my miraculously resurrected friend. This is the kind of shit that goes down in holy books, I thought rather faintly as I stared at him. "Am I going crazy again?" I asked nobody in particular.

"No more than you were before," Gandalf reassured me with that gleam in his eyes, "Though you haven't been listening to what you should have! I have been trying to contact you."

Oh. Well that explained all those weird dreams I had written off while we were running. "I thought that was just exhaustion!" I exclaimed, laughing, "Sorry, I'm only human!"

Suddenly Boromir was frowning and Aragorn was in my face, head tilted. "That's right," the ranger murmured, "You are only human."

For half a second I was bewildered. Then I remembered that even Boromir had a little bit of Numenorian, which was barely human. I was the only one without any kind of enhancement and I'd kept up with these guys. Pride and amazement puffed up my chest for a moment.

"Give me some time riding instead of walking and I'll be fine," I assured the over-protective ranger and only partially for show began stretching my legs.

For a moment longer he watched, making sure that I showed no pain as I moved. Everything stung a little, but I was no stranger to that and used him for balance as I pulled my legs up behind me one at a time. "Are we still heading to Edoras?" I asked, not sure whether I was talking to Aragorn or Gandalf.

Aragorn only nodded, while Gandalf said, "Yes, we head for Edoras. We will visit King Theoden, whose mind is overthrown."

The confirmation of Matt's words made me grimace. "Better head on out, then," I suggested, "I refilled our water skins already. How are Merry and Pippin?"

Boromir's demeanor was lighter than it had been since we left Tharbad all those months ago. "They are with a friend of Gandalf's," he reported happily.

While I wished I could see them for myself, at least I didn't have to worry about them while we went to our next task. That was a small blessing.

Gandalf then whistled a tune that I never would have guessed a person could make, a haunting few notes that echoed across the landscape. It was only matched by the horse that it summoned, the most beautiful white-grey that I had ever seen. While I'm no expert with steeds, this one felt so majestic that I thought for a wild half-second that it was a kelpie.

Thankfully it didn't try drowning Gandalf. No, he stroked its nose and introduced the horse with a tender little smile. "This is Shadowfax, Lord of all horses," he murmured.

Horses have lords? Suddenly I wondered what other sort of animals had royalty. Did I need to bow? I'd really rather not bow to a horse.

We were on the horses and riding again before I could think to ask any stupid questions. Instead it gave me a whole day to ponder questions of Gandalf's return, my own feelings, and what we would do now. Not a very good combination.

Camp was set for a longer period than any since the Fellowship broke at Parth Galen. There was no fire (since there was no wood to feed it) but Gandalf's reassurances was enough to make up for that. I wrinkled my nose at the vaguely honey-flavored lembas and yet again ate a wafer. It was tasty but I was getting tired of it.

"Cass, I have a few questions for you," Gandalf said as I was getting ready for bed.

I gave my laid out cloak a longing glance but decided that the wizard was worth a delay. "What's up?" I asked and sat beside him.

Was it me, or did Gandalf glow a little? Like Legolas but a soothing pale blue. He glanced at me, then took a hit off Aragorn's pipe.

I held out a hand in a wordless request and found his pipe in my hand. The half-tobacco, half-marijuana taste was helpful in getting my shoulders to loosen up.

"I understand that Theodred is missing and Eomer is banished. Who does that leave in Edoras who we can count on?" Gandalf asked.

"Andy, Mackey, Eowyn, a noblewoman called Godiva and her husband, and a guard called Aelfwulf," I listed off, "I don't know where Stithulf is but I would trust him with my life as well."

Gandalf nodded to himself slowly. "We may need all the help we can get in Edoras," he murmured, "I must face the head of my order and no one can interfere."

Ouch. His tone was like mine when I talked about Cressie, only much more sad. "Anything else you need?" I questioned.

He patted my hand. "No, you can rest your head now," he said with a little smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. While you can, he seemed to be saying.

I laid down and after what felt like an hour of worrying, exhaustion carried me off to sleep.