Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the characters, settings, or events I have taken from Tolkien's works. I just can't help writing about them.

A/N: Thanks so much to jingles-the-pirate, Lotr-junkie, Samus, and Cat, who reviewed my last chapter. I love just knowing that you are reading it.
tigerlily: Don't worry, I think my plan is a little different than what it may sound like. We shall see...

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The messenger arrived in the evening the next day. He rode up to the tent in the purpling twilight at a trot, though the lather that covered his mount attested to a day of hard riding. Erin looked up from in front of the tent as he pulled his heaving mount to a halt.

Erin set down the bucket of water she was carrying and hurried over to take the reins of his horse. He nodded once, gratefully, and slid off the horse. His face was haggard, gray with both dust and weariness.

The rider took a deep breath, for a moment unsteady on his feet, and then spoke. His voice was low and tired.

Is the lady Eowyn within?

Erin nodded. She is. What shall I tell her you are here for?

I bring a message from Lord Theoden, along with news of the battle.

Erin looped the reins of the horse around a tethering post, then turned back to the rider.

I will tell the Lady of your coming. Should you wish for a drink of water or a cool rinse for your face before seeing the Lady, the water is at your disposal.

She indicated the water she had fetched, and the rider's dry lips cracked in a small smile. He walked over to the bucket and Erin ducked inside the tent.


Eowyn continued working on the cloak she was mending without looking up. Yes, Fara, what is it?

There is a messenger outside from King Theoden with news of the battle. Eowyn set her mending aside and stood, smoothing her dress.

What is the rider's name, Fara?

Erin's brow crinkled.

I did not think to ask. Shall I bring him in?

Yes, do that Fara.

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Back outside in the swiftly deepening shadows, Erin spotted the rider by his horse, drying his face with a small blanket from his open saddlebag. He had removed his mount's saddle and the horse was drinking from a water bowl, most likely also from the saddlebag.

The Lady Eowyn will see you now, Erin announced.

What do you call a rider when you don't know his name?

With only a slight pause from the announcement, Erin added,

The rider set the blanket back into the saddlebag, then turned to face Erin. Even without the dust and grime, his face still looked gray.

It must be the lighting, Erin decided. The rider looked younger than he had first appeared. A lot younger. Around eighteen or so, I'd guess. It's amazing what washing the dirt off your face can do for your age. Erin smiled wryly.

The rider walked slowly up to the tent and slipped inside. Erin followed and stood in the back corner, awaiting instructions from Eowyn. Standing at attention in front of Lady Eowyn, the rider too was waiting.

Eowyn spoke courteously. Your name, rider, and your duty?

I am Herubrand, my lady, and I am sent by King Theoden to bring news of the battle at Helm's Deep.

At Eowyn's direction he continued with the welcome news that King Theoden had led the Eorlingas to victory. Neither King Theoden, Lord Eomer, nor the three travelers, Lords Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, were hurt.

Erin could sense the relief flooding through the lady at the news of her loved ones' safety. At the news of the strange forest that moved to surround the fortress and defeated any retreating orcs, Erin's mind drifted.

Forests moving. Why does that sound familiar? Must be something we read in school sometime. Then her face brightened.

Macbeth! That's it. Macbeth shall not be defeated until the forest comes to Dunsinane, or something like that...

Erin caught Eowyn glancing at her quizzically.

She flashed Eowyn a self-conscious grin and redirected her attention to the rider, who was dutifully continuing his report, though more slowly now.

There is to be a muster at Edoras of all the men of Rohan...

It was kind of funny. The rider stood so stiffly, his arms clamped at his sides. He looked a little ridiculous to Erin's eyes. He faltered in the steady rhythm of his speech, and Eowyn swiftly cut him off.

Rider Herubrand, you must be weary from your long ride here, and I have kept you talking for close upon an hour. You have done your duty. Rest now, and you may tell more when morning comes. Go now.

Herubrand bowed wearily and exited the tent. As he passed Erin, she could tell he was nearly trembling with exhaustion.

Once he was outside, Eowyn looked at Erin, her eyes full of concern. Both moved to the doorway of the tent to see that the rider found a tent to stay in.

Erin reached the doorway just in time to see the rider slump against his horse and slide to the ground.

Eowyn's voice called, snapping Erin into action even as she herself hurried past Erin through the doorway. She knelt beside the fallen rider and rolled him onto his back.

He is unconscious. Help me bring him inside. We will lay him on your cot, as it is closest. Erin mutely assisted Eowyn.

He's not responding. If it was just exhaustion, wouldn't he wake up at being carried?

After laying him as gently as they could on the cot, Eowyn voiced the same concern.

It is not right that he should collapse like this. Help me get his overcoat off.

Erin gasped at the condition of the rider's shirt. The left side was saturated with a rusty stain, and a tear in the fabric clung to his skin, crusted over with dried blood. Eowyn swiftly grabbed a knife and cut the shirt off. The wound was not overly large, but it was festering and swollen.

Had he not ridden, it would not have festered. Now though, he has lost blood and aggravated the wound. Erin's eyes were wide as she looked at the gash.

Why was he chosen as a messenger if he was hurt? she demanded. Eowyn shook her head.

Such is the courage of the young. He probably convinced himself that it was not serious and told no one. My uncle would not have sent him had he known of the wound. She paused.

Fara, I am going to find a healer and bring her back here. I want you to take a clean cloth and some warm water and try to loosen some of the blood from the wound and clean it a little. I will return as quickly as I can. Keep the tent warm.

Then she ducked back out into the darkness, leaving Erin alone.

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Erin followed Eowyn's instructions, adding wood to the fire and searching for a clean cloth. Choosing the softest cloth she could find, she brought a pot of warm water to the cot and set it on a stool. Then she dipped the cloth into the water and gingerly touched it to the blackening crust over the wound.

I hope this doesn't hurt too much, Herubrand, she mumbled, even though she knew he couldn't hear her.

Gently dabbing, Erin swallowed her nervousness and focused only on helping the young rider before her.

So she continued, watching as the first flush of fever invaded his pale face, and waiting desperately for Eowyn's return.