Thanks for all the reviews! I haven't been writing because I've been extremely busy but now I'm trying to get in touch with all my fics again and get back in the swing of things. =0)

*&*

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Sméagol grabbed on to the banister desperately, doing all he could to prevent going and having this "bath" thing that Kathy had finally decided to subject him to.

"Patrick, can you give me a hand here?" Kathy yelled, panting and puffing. Sméagol was strong.

Sméagol kicked and lashed as best he could, but Patrick had finally got him in a death grip and there was no getting out. Finally resigned to his fate, he walked along between Patrick and Kathy, hoping that whatever it was that was going to happen to him, it would not be as bad as what the Orcs did to him in Mordor. That was nasty. Totally uncool. (That phrase he learned on MTV.)

They led him to the bathroom and he peered in curiously. All he saw was a bathtub (yet another nifty word courtesy of the Home Shopping Channel) filled with water… and the regular toilety stuff. What was this bath?

"Get into the tub now, Sméagol."

That's it? Get into the tub?

Sméagol had never felt that cheated in his life. All that fuss and trouble, and all that he was required to do with swim in that white thing? Sheesh. He jumped in without hesitation. Pretty comfy… but could have been better if there were a few fishes in there.

*&*

"Ride to the Glittering Caves, Deon. Lord Gimli has sent word, saying that he needs help," Éomer instructed his bannerman. Then he stuffed a bag into his hands. "And bring this to him. The women have packed it nicely, there's no need for you to open it, so all you have to do is to pass it to him."

Deon nodded briskly and bowed to his king, then mounted his horse and rode away. This was going to be the mission of his life. He just knew it. He was going to be of great service to Lord Gimli, perhaps fight Haradhrim or Orcs, and he would gain glory and recognition and his king would present him with great tokens and everyone would know his name. This was going to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

*&*

"I have sent word to the King of Rohan to send aid," Gimli told Nat.

"Aid?" Nat raised her eyebrows. "Am I that dangerous?" After spending more than a month with the dwarves, she had grown pretty at home, and was on first-name terms with Gimli. Not that he had any other name for her to call him by, though, he wouldn't tell her his secret name.

"Dresses," Gimli amended.

"You only send for dresses after I've been here for a month?"

"Well, we thought that you would be gone any day," Gimli mumbled. "Now it seems like you'll be here for quite a while."

"Ah hah." Nat had no response to that; indeed it seemed to be true.

*&*

TWO DAYS LATER

*&*

Hah! He had arrived! The Great Deon to the rescue!

Deon followed the two dwarves into the hall of Lord Gimli, his head held high. Dwarves that passed him smiled, and he assumed that it was because they were so glad that help had come to them at last. A great warrior…

The doors opened and Deon entered to stand before Lord Gimli. "Lord Gimli, I am Deon, sent by Éomer, the King of Rohan…" he began, and was going to go on a long ramble of his past escapades (of course, exaggerated a little for maximum effect), when he was rudely interrupted.

"Oh dear… we had hoped…" Gimli muttered, thinking that Deon could not hear him. Then the dwarf smiled. "Welcome, Deon. I'm glad that you've come. And I see that you have brought what was requested. Thank you very much. You'll meet her in a moment."

Her? Perhaps it was a dangerous witch, or a dragon?

The doors opened again, and Deon turned, almost jumping with anticipation.

What he saw was worse than a witch or a dragon.

*&*

What the…?

A guy? Help sent from Rohan? A guy? Nat had expected a girl, to share her girly troubles and to have girly talks with. But a guy?

He was gaping at her as well, and she supposed that he had not exactly been properly briefed on what he was in for. At that thought, she almost laughed out loud. The fellow had probably been expecting some grand battle. But he did look like a pompous git.

*&*

"Ah, Natalie, just in time. Deon, I would like you to meet Natalie. You'll have to be around to help Natalie until the time comes for her to leave. I'm sure she'll explain her whole situation to you in due time. Nat, come and meet Deon, he's very kindly come to help you and probably tell you more about Middle-earth. Also, he brought you your dresses."

Dresses? Deon watched in horror as Nat walked forward and picked up the bag. He had thought that he had brought some secret weapon, and they were just dresses? Nat turned to him and gave him a sugary sweet smile, extending a hand. "Thank you for all your help."

They almost crushed each other's fingers.

*&*

"So what do you do in Rohan?" Nat asked after she had changed into a dress. It was a slightly big for her, but she looked rather nice in it, Deon had to admit. Of course, he would never say it out loud, not to this useless chit.

Deon drew himself up to his full height. "I'm the bannerman of Éomer, King of Rohan. When we ride into war, I am always by his side, bearing his banner. During times of peace I take care of his every need, I make sure he has everything that he could possibly want."

Nat nodded. "Right. So… you're like a servant?"

"Absolutely not!" Deon was horrifed at the idea. "I am the bannerman of the King! I am the only one who can hold his flag! He depends on me to see to his needs!"

"Right. Just like a servant."

If she had not been a lady, he would have punched her.