Alright! I have an update for the many, many people who asked for it. This (and several past it) have been written out by hand during boring parts of the work-day, merely waiting for me to get time on the computer to type it up and edit it a bit. While I would prefer knowing a bit farther in advance where the story is going, I guess I can live with it this way, too.

I will try to keep chapters coming, though as long as I'm uncertain as to the direction it's taking, they may not be as frequent as I like, and as you are used to from me... save over breaks and the summer. In other words, expect something added to The Keeper of the Stone before a new chapter here. Oh, and as I wrote this, I couldn't remember if Eomer's name had an e at the end or not... I looked it up and went back through to change them, but if you see one I missed, let me know!

And to those who would say this chapter is beside the point, completely rambling... well, there is a point--getting her to talk, face everything in some way.

Okay, Review Responses:

Elvenstar5: Yeah. Once I've written something, it's hard to make myself go back and write it again. Combine that to little free time... this could take a while.

sarah: Thank you! I'm glad some would prefer it being late than thrown together.

Cold-Blade: She is going back to Gondor, because she knows Leaf views her leaving as running away again, when it wasn't, exactly.

plumsy321: Well, I think you're the first one to ever say only update if you want to. LOL.

Jo: Well, I see what you mean... I'm just not sure why you're bringing that up when she's going back. Or was this discussion started before she turned around? I don't remember anymore. Anyway, I agree... it's just hard to force my characters to do something sometimes. It's like they come alive in my head, and simply won't do some things. Okay, not quite 'alive'...



Chapter 35

Waking… was not fun. My horse—blasted creature—was nudging me. Telling him to stop did nothing… Kind of reminded me of an elf I knew. Finally, I wrenched my eyes fully open and began stretching. I paused with my arms over my head, my mouth slightly agape. Realizing that, I shut my jaw and got warily to my feet.

Very close by—and getting rapidly closer—were a group of horsemen. The things on their horses' heads made it clear they were men, had their forms not done so. Their colors declared them not from Gondor… as did their hair, for that matter.

"What business have you in Rohan, stranger?"

I lifted a brow, quickly considering my options. They were friends of Gondor, and I was heading that way, anyway. "I am headed to Gondor," I declared, adapting Tyran without any trouble.

"Your speech is fair…" The one who spoke this time was clearly the highest rank present—according to his decorations. He looked at my horse, lifting a brow. "Do you go for the Queen or the Prince?"

I opened my mouth and then paused. After a moment I let out a breath. "The King would like his son accompanied home, no doubt… but it is for my own peace that I go to Gondor."

"Well… even in these times, would a lone traveler wish accompaniment?"

I offered him a small smile. "I rode from Mirkwood alone… but some company would be… acceptable."

"Your arms look well crafted," he murmured as my horse agreed to go on for the day.

"I would like to think they are," I countered. "If I may… who are you? Of importance from Rohan is clear, but beyond that…"

He laughed softly. "Eomer."

"Ah," I murmured. "Estel has spoken of you."

"Estel?"

"Yes," I agreed, nodding once. "Though you know doubt know him by one of his many other names."

"Why would a person need more than one name?"

"There are many reasons," I murmured with a sigh. "I use three."

"Oh?" he asked, looking at me, clearly startled. What oddly expressive beings, humans.

I merely nodded once more, and we rode on in silence. Being around other horses who were being held to their riders by metal had my horse much more appreciative, and more than a little conceited as he pranced along, seeming to mock the other horses for letting themselves be so treated. I scolded him lightly, telling him he looked foolish.

"Would you ride with me?" Eomer asked, riding ahead. I followed, waiting for him to say or ask what he wanted to. "I was wondering…"

"I guessed."

He glanced at me before smiling. "You are not as… hesitant… as those of your kind I've met."

"Because you have not met my kind. I am a wood-elf, through and through."

"Legolas—"

"Is half, at most, and held to somewhat different expectations." I shook my head, banishing thoughts of what that had meant between us. "Ask."

"Legolas seemed to be rather… quiet… through the war. He did what was needed with very few words."

I lifted a brow. "Hardly sounds like him… Though it's been over a millennia since I've fought beside him."

Eomer nearly fell off his horse. "A mill… forgive my shock, but you hardly seem so old!"

"As I doubt you are the age I would consider you by your looks, for no human could be."

He thought about that for a few minutes before nodding. "I think I see your point… He's not usually so… solemn?"

"Leaf is often solemn… but not usually, as I have known him. He is usually fast to joke, jest or tease. Only when things lay heavily upon him is he otherwise."

"Alyeni." Eomer spoke the name. "He was thinking about returning to her, wasn't he?"

"I can hardly say. Who am I to say that thought was above all others in his mind?"

He was silent for a time, riding beside me. He turned to look at me thoughtfully. "For your distinction between types of elves, you speak like the only ones I have had occasion to know."

"All elves of a certain age may seem… I won't ascribe myself wisdom… so perhaps…"

"Riddle-makers. You know much, but divulge little."

"Secret-keepers?" I mused. I nodded slowly after considering it for a time. "Yes, I suppose that is an apt descriptor." I didn't say it, but I couldn't help but think sometimes it would be better if we weren't.

Little else was said through the day. At nightfall they halted and built large fires to gather around. I remained standing as they ate, stretching down my spine, trying to discretely ease the stiffness from my shoulder.

"You might have mentioned your injury."

I didn't look at him. I had heard him approach. "I could have… but why? It has nearly healed."

He smiled faintly as he moved so he could see my face as I continued to gaze upon the stars. "You were not with us in battle."

"There were more fronts than you were told," I answered quietly.

He sighed. "I had hoped the other lands—farther from Mordor than we—were unaffected."

"No one was unaffected," I retorted sharply. "Even the dwarves will have felt this."

He looked solemnly back at the fire. "Are all the elves as alike as you and Legolas?"

I frowned faintly.

He smiled slightly. "As the first elf I had seen, I spent time—perhaps too much time, in truth—studying him. The fascination humans have for elves is no doubt well known."

My answer was a dry look around the fires, where most who weren't sparring were instead watching me.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "I noted him doing what you recently were. It is a curious way to stretch."

"One practiced by all who have hunted quarry too skittish to allow more movement." I glanced at him. "Did you never see Estel doing this?"

"I don't know who you speak of when you speak of Estel… I did not notice the twins doing that."

"Eladan and Elrohir are much more relaxed around humans than those raised in Mirkwood."

"So you and Legolas are quite alike."

I shook my head. "We are rather different. Our similarities are mostly from having grown up together."

"You did not call him a friend," he murmured softly.

"He has been my best friend, in times past."

"But not now?"

His question brought my head around, a wry smile forced from me. "Again you remind me of the difference between our kinds." I sighed. "Things are… tense… currently, between us." I shook my head. "It was his doing, and he has made no indication he wants to repair that rift."

"But shouldn't good friends be willing to give?"

"Mmm. They should. But our stubbornness is another thing alike. I feel it is his turn—his responsibility—to approach me on this. I will remain as I am until he has done so."

"If he does, will you forgive him?"

"My love for him has not changed. His altercation was merely welcoming my presence with ice and suspicion. He needs merely to speak with me, and things will… ease."

"You hesitate."

"I am not young enough to believe everything will be good and perfect. We can be friends… even if it is barely."

He looked at me for another long moment, and then let his eyes fall away. "You know the sword?"

It took me a moment to switch over to his new subject. I blinked. "I am no master… But I know this blade."

"Would you spar with me?" His eyes sparkled, and I could see this was something he had been really wanting to ask.

"I have never sparred with a human."

"Nor I with an elf," he countered, drawing his sword in response to some sign of agreement he must have found on my face.

The first clash of swords drew the attention of those who hadn't already been watching. I dodged most of his swings, hitting him with the flat of the blade when I could… But he was the better swordsman, and my blade soon fell.

"You use your natural advantages well," he approved. "There is much room for improvement."

"I know. I'm better with the daggers or the bow… but no master of any."

"Is Legolas—"

"A master of bow and daggers, and far better than I with a sword."

He was silent for a while, then smiled in a somewhat cheeky way. "Then I have a proposal—let us improve your sword skills at least to the level of the one you plan to accompany…."

"You think you can match him with a sword?"

"How can I say… when I have not seen him use a sword?"

I had to laugh.