A/N: You will notice the lines from the book in this section, but most have been altered slightly or added to, as they are set under different circumstances. I know this chapter is short, and maybe not really good, but it went to long with the next chapter and this is all relevant for future chapters. They will be better, don't stop reading it because of this one!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Chapter 10: Despair

Éowyn lay flat on her bed. She was exhausted from the events of the last six days. She wanted to rest but she couldn't. She wanted to ease Aragorn of his pain but she couldn't do that either. She didn't wish to return to the main hall but knew that her presence was required there. She wandered down again and saw that three guests had arrived. Two of them she did not know, one she did.

"Gandalf!" she cried, running to the old man and embracing him.

"It is wonderful to see you, Éowyn," he chuckled, "you are well, I trust?"

"Yes, quite," she answered smiling, "how do you come to be here, dear Mithrandir?"

"Unfortunately, it is not good," he replied solemnly, "I have spoken with your uncle about departing soon."

"To where?" inquired Éowyn, a note of panic in her voice.

Théoden stepped forward, "I must go to Minas Tirith, to partake in the war."

Éowyn stepped back in alarm, recovering herself quickly however, and stared at her uncle in shock.

"When will you leave?" she asked, blankly.

"Within three days time," he said, "as soon as all forces can be assembled."

Éowyn stared at the ground, her mouth open slightly. She didn't dare ask whether she could go with him or not. She knew what his answer would be.

"Aragorn shall leave tomorrow morn," added Gandalf, "he also plans to go to Minas Tirith but by a different route."

"Aragorn!" exclaimed Éowyn.

"Yes," Gandalf said, "he has agreed to travel the Paths of the Dead, advised by Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

"The Paths of the Dead!"

Éowyn knew of the Paths of the Dead. No one had returned from them alive. Creatures lived there, creatures no one had lived to tell of but were nonetheless known and feared. No one had emerged from the Paths of the Dead since Isildur himself. No one dared to go near, not those of Gondor, nor those of Rohan. There was only one place that they feared more, and that place was Mordor.

How could Aragorn think of going there? He knew he might never come out. However, it was said that one would come, in a time of great darkness; one that would pass through the Paths of the Dead and emerge with the army of the Dead to rid Middle Earth of the evils created by Mordor. It did not say when this person would come, nor did it say more of the prophecy. What made Aragorn think that it was him? What could make him risk his life? If he took an army with him to the Paths of the Dead, and they did not return, then all hope of defeating Mordor would be lost.

"My lady, I fear that you have taken this news with some difficulty. You appear distressed and somewhat out of sorts," said Gandalf, softly.

"I am sorry, Gandalf," she replied, weakly, "I think it would be best for me to retire to my chambers. I am still weary from my journey."

"Of course, Éowyn."

Éowyn curtsied politely and slowly walked across the hall and through the door to the passageway. They watched in silence as she left.

            Éowyn hurried along the corridor, almost running. She wanted to get away from all of this. She wanted to stop him from going to his death. But she knew his stubborn nature; he would not change his mind once he was decided.

She could feel the tears well at the thought that Aragorn was going to leave her forever. He would not return to Rohan, she knew that, and she would not leave. She fought them back.

She must not show any weakness at this time. It would only make her pain worse.

            As she blindly ran straight along the hallway, she bumped into something, or someone. Two large hands grabbed her, holding her back, and blocked her path.

She turned her face upward to see the owner's face. She could make out Aragorn's features through her blurred vision. She turned her head down again and pushed past him roughly as she continued to her room.

He didn't try to stop her as she ran past him; he only stared after her. He had never seen her so upset before; he wasn't sure whether it was anger, distress or something more.

He had seen no tears in her eyes, but he felt that her heart was crying.

She was trying to fight it; he could see that, to show herself that she need not cry for any pains.

Aragorn followed her, a fair way behind.

A/N: Ok, no changes to it. And still really short. Sorry. I'll add to it, when I have time.