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.
Chapter note: The song quotation is from the Evanescence song, Bring Me To Life.

A/N: I consistantly take so long to update, I really don't know why I bother to apologize anymore. But here I am. This time, I simply hit a massive mind block and had to put the story away for a couple of weeks. Then I sat down and wrote this chapter in two sittings (which involve staying up til two in the morning). Thank you for all your encouragement, and I would count any suggestions for improvement as a great help. Take care!

To Pyromaniacal Llama- Nice to hear from you. I must say, I can't stand the Paths of the Dead either, but they're going to show up again later (sinister music plays). Anyway, I'm glad you are connecting with the characters, and I thought Erin was kind of different too.

Moon scar- Okay, this update took just about as long, but guess what? This one has a lot of emotions, too!

WeasleyTwinsLover1112- Herubrand's back this time, just like I promised. Glad you're enjoying the story. I sure love writing it.

Samus- Sorry, but Merry will have to wait one more chapter. This one sort of wrote itself, and I felt I needed to include it, so I haven't quite gotten to the big arrival. I'm glad you liked the Aragorn piece. Thank you so much for your faithful and candid commentary. I really appreciate it.

MackenzieW- Thank's for saying hello! Sorry I haven't kept in touch (I told you I'm terrible at it), but drop me a line sometime. I'm glad you like the story. It really means a lot to me that you took the time to read the whole thing and review.

Tigerlily- Thank you for yet another enthusiastic and encouraging review. I don't care when you write them, just so long as I hear from you. You always really cheer me up. In writing this story, I've really come to feel for Eowyn a lot more than I thought I would too, because you're right, she's easy to look over in the books, and is not at all how I think of her in the movies. I'm glad she's connecting with you. Thanks again for reviewing.
P.S. Thank's for giving me back my . I could probably use it.


Note to all readers: If you like stories about Rohan, take a look at KaterineKasdorf's story Rider of Rohan (story ID 1245620). She has a very original narrator and a wonderful view of Middle Earth.

Now on to Erin...


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15) Hope

The sun was bright overhead, but the day felt dimmed. Birdsong sounded only far off, voices seemed hushed and muted, and the dark grove whispered its call to any who would hear.

Erin ducked her head to shield her eyes from the light, so intense after several hours in the tent with Eowyn.

There was a hardness in the lady's face now, a resolution that frightened Erin in a way that nothing had before. It was compounded by Eowyn's dry-eyed silence and composure. No laughter sparkled in the blue eyes now. Breakfast had been a dismal affair, and Eowyn had finally sent Erin off to find some stew and take it to Herubrand.

Erin clutched the tray tightly, holding on as if it were her most precious possession. She worried about her mistress, now left alone to face the day as it came.

I hope the king arrives soon, with Lord Eomer. Eowyn is sorely in need of her brother's strength right now. She cannot see that any hope is left, but I cannot force myself to believe it is gone. How can it be, so long as loyalty like that of Lord Eomer still exists?

Erin pushed her thoughts away and tried to focus on the task at hand.

Now in front of the tent, Erin felt a little nervous. She had never really talked to Herubrand when he was fully aware, and she was a bit unsure how she would interact with him now that he was on the mend.

I mean, he seemed nice enough before, but he was feverish then. What will he be like now?

Lifting her chin and taking a deep breath, she stepped inside the familiar tent, the tray held steadily before her. Again, the transition from sunlight to the dimmer interior was disconcerting, and Erin had to stand blinking for a few moments as her eyes adjusted.

Herubrand was sitting up in the bed, his back against one of the tent posts and his legs straight out in front covered by a blanket. Erin was confused.

Am I hallucinating, or did that cot move?
The young man's face lit up with a huge smile as he saw Erin. Noting how disconcerted she looked, he spoke quickly.

Simbel moved the cot so I can sit up against the post. I was tired of lying down. Your memory does not mislead you, Fara.

He laughed at her surprised expression. Yes, I remember you. It's one of the few memories I have of the past week. You are Fara, and you are not really a healer.

His lighthearted expression faded.

You pulled me back from death's gates when my own foolishness brought me there. For that, I want to thank you with all of my being.

His face was thoughtful and serious now and he gazed steadily at Erin, who still stood unmoving by the tent door. The words sat in the air, husky and filled with emotion.

How do I respond? He's thanking me for his life...

Erin's words were soft, and felt painfully inadequate for the seriousness of Herubrand's thanks. I'm just glad that you are getting better now, Herubrand.

All of the memories of the long vigil by his side flooded into Erin's brain, vivid and nightmarish. Her throat tightened painfully and her hands clenched around the tray.

You had me frightened pretty badly for a while there. Erin looked him straight in the eye and hoped he could tell she meant every word of it.

The silence held for a moment.

Then Herubrand said quietly, You know, I think I may fall back into the fever if I do not eat some of that stew soon.

A sudden grin flashed across his face, and Erin felt her tense muscles relax, the dark memories ebbing out of the room. The fevered nights were behind now, and would not return. She smiled back slowly and set the tray on the cot.

You cannot imagine how happy this makes me, she stated, drawing up the stool as Herubrand attacked the meal with relish.

He paused in mid-bite, a piece of bread in one hand and a cup in the other, not understanding her words.

What makes you happy? he queried, puzzled.

Erin answered with complete seriousness, That I do not have to spoon broth down your throat anymore, and hopefully will never have to again.

Erin's brown eyes sparkled for the first time in days at the rider's indignant expression. He resumed his meal and steadfastly refused to speak to Erin until he had finished.

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According to Simbel, who stopped by to check Herubrand briefly, the rider was allowed out of bed under Erin's supervision, as he needed to limber up and begin to loosen the muscles around the wound again.

Needless to say, Herubrand was delighted at the announcement and urged Erin to get permission for more time from Lady Eowyn immediately. The lady gave a quick but distracted agreement and Erin hurried back to the tent.

The two walked slowly with frequent stops, talking as they meandered around the outskirts of the camp.

Erin stood poised for action, alert to any signs of pain or dizziness on Herubrand's part, for, as she told him, I am taking no chances with you reopening your wound. I don't think I could handle any more lack of sleep. The young rider merely shook his head, obeying Erin's not infrequent orders to stop for rest but refusing any other assistance.

During one such stop, Herubrand suddenly looked straight at Erin.

What is your real name, Fara? Erin was startled by the question coming out of the blue.

What do you mean?

The young man's face was thoughtful. You are a woman of Rohan now and have taken a name fitting one of the Rohirrim, but you have not always been so.

He held up a hand to cut off Erin's question.

Nothing in your manner says this. In appearance, your dark coloring is not unheard of in our land. You have mastered most of our customs and your accent is unnoticeable. But your eyes give you away.

From Erin's confused demeanor, Herubrand could tell he wasn't getting across his point. He struggled to articulate his thoughts.

Your eyes have a fire. You have seen things that I can only imagine, and then come here. You have seen my world from a different view, and there is both a pride and a sadness at what you see. It is all there in your eyes for one who can see it.

He stopped, embarrassed by his lengthy speech and concerned by Erin's downcast eyes and hunched shoulders.

I am sorry, Fara, if I have upset you. I did not mean to.

Erin did not reply. Everything was as Herubrand had described, and it frightened her that he could read her so well.

It's like that song back home. How can you see into my eyes, like open doors?He can see my soul, and he's not even trying. His words awoke in her a longing for home that she had tried to ignore. This is my home now. These are my people...

Fara? Are you all right?

His voice was soft, worried. She swallowed the lump that threatened to choke off her words. He tried to catch her eyes. You do not have to tell me anything unless you want to.

Her words were barely audible.

My name is Erin.

He smiled gently. It is a beautiful name. What does it mean? She thought for a moment before looking straight into his deep green eyes.

It means

Something we sorely need right now, I'm afraid. But it is elusive. Once Theoden-King arrives, we will be off to the muster, and then to further war. There is no telling where it will end.

Erin's frightened eyes met Herubrand's face.

You will go with them?

He nodded. I am nearly recovered. I must do what I can to protect my king and my country. Erin's eyes dropped to her hands and she said nothing.

the rider said quietly, it is my duty. I need to do it.

The girl's voice was choked with pain, I know. But Herubrand, her voice cracked with the strain of keeping her composure, how many will die before it ends?

Tears welled up, blurring her vision. How many brothers and sons have to fall before it ends? An ancient pain reflected in her dark brown eyes, tearing at Herubrand's heart. The next words were barely a whisper as she raised her face to him, salty tears running silently down her cheeks.

How many Theodreds must die? How many Eomers? How do I know that you, that you won't...

The last resistance to the rising tide of emotions that wracked her heart crumbled and she shook with tears and frustration, hiding her head in her hands.

Two strong arms encircled Erin's trembling shoulders and pulled her tight, a steady rock to hold her fast during the storm. Herubrand spoke quietly above her sobs.

I am not much older than you, Erin, and I do not have answers. I am just as frightened as you at the terrible price this fight will have. His voice sounded open and vulnerable.

I saw close friends die beside me at Helm's Deep. I have no guarantee that the next battle will not claim me.

Voice steady and strong now, intense, full of conviction, he continued.

But don't you understand, Erin? If I do not try to stop this evil, many more will die. I have to keep trying, or I am condemning innocents to their deaths. I don't like fighting, Erin, but I will keep going until we find peace.

He released Erin as she slowly sat up, her tearstained face sorrowful but regaining calm. Clasping her hand, he dropped his voice again, each word deliberate.

If I must give up my life, so be it, but I would give it in a worthwhile cause. Do you understand?

His intense gaze held hers fast and she bit her lip, nodding.

I do.

Her young face now held a newfound strength and resolve as she rose to her feet. She turned to the rider, standing tall beside her.

She paused. Thank you.

His lips twitched up in the ghost of a smile. How could I not try to explain? In meeting you, I have found the twin of my spirit. That is something I will never let go, not at any cost.

Erin's silent understanding negated the need for further words. The pair simply faced each other for a few more moments, eyes locked in empathy, then they turned as on a signal and began to walk slowly side by side, resuming their circuit of the camp.