Swift Tales: Sorry I took a while to update this time, thanks for your review though.
Bubble- Sheep: I don't know exactly how long the story's going to be, but there's quite a few more chapters to come.
Dark Borg Drone: Thanks for your review!
Mirax: Thanks for all your advice, this chapter should be longer and this is where the interaction between Aragorn and Arwen comes in.
Mrsblonde1503: You'll have to wait and see!
Crazycatluver: I'm afraid I took rather a long time to update this time, sorry! Thanks for reviewing.
Lady Urquentha: Thanks for your review!
AnimeSiren: Thanks.
Thornwicca: Thanks, enjoy this chapter!
Arwen-2005: I think it would have been bad to have had her at Helm's Deep in the movies because it's a little too out of keeping with the books, but I think it's a good fanfiction line! Thanks for your review.
A/N: SORRY! I have been ages updating and I know it. It's just I had been concentrating on another fic which I had just got rid of my writer's block on, and then I had some plot ideas for new Animorph fics that just wouldn't go away… Please forgive me and enjoy the update.
As men began to clear away the bodies, identifying those lost, Aragorn trudged across the flooded courtyard. He could see Arwen sat on the steps, draping her ebony hair over one shoulder to brush out the tangles.
"Allow me." Aragorn reached for the silver brush, recognising it as Miriel's. He smiled, happy at his people's warm welcome of his betrothed. The couple sat in silence for several minutes, each content with the other's presence.
After several minutes, Arwen spoke up.
"Where is Frodo?"
"He left for Mordor, and we did not realise he had left until it was too late. But Sam went with him."
"What about Merry and Pippin?"
"They were captured by Uruk-Hai, but fear not. The Uruks were attacked by the King's nephew, and the hobbits escaped and are now in the care of the Ents of Fangorn forest."
"They are real? I thought they were but an Elven myth."
"That I also believed, until Gandalf explained their existence when we went looking for the young hobbits." Aragorn paused. "Are you hurt, meleth?"
"No more than minor bruises and small cuts or scratches. But Legolas says you fell down a cliff, and they took you for dead."
Aragorn nodded.
"How did you survive?"
"I do not know, other than that a horse named Brego rescued me. He had been driven half- mad by war, so I asked that he be turned out on the plains; and it is lucky that I did so."
Turning, Arwen put her arms around his neck and buried her head into his shoulder. "I have missed you."
"And I you, meleth nin. I am pleased to have the opportunity to spend time with you, but I am haunted still by what may have happened to you during…"
Aragorn was cut off as Arwen placed a light kiss on his lips.
"Please, do not worry about it. I am safe now, am I not?"
"But you could so easily be among those bodies. I could never forgive myself if that had happened."
"It would not be your fault. It was my decision, and I do not regret it."
"I let you…"
"Please, let us not spend what little time we may have speaking constantly of such things. Just be satisfied that I am here and unharmed, and we may speak together."
The couple were interrupted by Nimwen's soft voice. "Forgive me for intruding, but Lothiel and the others have arrived with what food and drink they could gather together."
Aragorn stood, going with the other Dunedain to help prepare the food that had been brought by those ineligible to fight, and also as he had the awful job of informing people of the loss of loved ones.
Arwen followed at a distance, curious. She saw two carts, drawn by strong chestnut horses. Rangers bustled around, unloading food and wood to cook it with.
Aragorn walked slowly towards a woman, obviously with child, and with another youngster at her side. She was looking around frantically.
"Mira?" Aragorn said gently.
She turned to him. "Where is Darascus?" She asked, although it was obvious she knew the answer.
"I am afraid he fell," he whispered softly. "I am sorry."
Mira stood in shock for a moment, and then suddenly began to shake with sobs. She collapsed against Aragorn, who held her, whispering soothing words.
Arwen felt tears appear at the corner of her own eyes. She realised suddenly what it meant to be mortal. Arwen knew that, one day, she also would feel like that poor woman, when she lost the man she loved.
Arwen was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of a set of feet and another of hooves approaching her. Turning, she saw a Rohirric lady with long blonde hair leading a dapple grey horse down the courtyard, towards what little grass was left.
"Greetings, my lady," Arwen called.
The woman turned, and Arwen saw her expression darken. She then continued along her way, without so much as a nod to Arwen. Wondering what she could possibly have done to offend the other lady, Arwen walked back down to where Aragorn was now skinning a deer.
Aragorn felt a light hand touch his shoulder. He looked up and smiled, though his eyes still held a trace of sadness.
"Can I help?" Arwen inquired.
"Ask Lothiel, she's in charge," he said, smiling.
Arwen went to Lothiel, and then returned with a knife, wooden board and some freshly washed vegetables. Sitting beside Aragorn, she began to chop them.
"That must be a horrible thing to have to do."
Aragorn looked puzzled. "Skinning a deer?"
"No, having to tell that lady.. Mira, about.."
"Nay, 'tis not pleasant, but somebody has to, and it usually falls to me as chieftan." He paused. "Perhaps we should change the subject to something a little less distressing. It is not a topic I wish to dwell on."
"Who is that lady?" Arwen waved a hand in the general direction of the woman with the horse.
"Be a little more specific, meleth, there must be over a score of women down where you indicate!"
"The young lady with the dapple grey stallion."
"Lady Éowyn. Why?"
"When I greeted her, she looked at me as though she hated me, although I am certain we have never met. She then continued without any acknowledgement of me," Arwen told him, sounding puzzled and more than a little upset. "What I can have done to offend her, I know not. Perhaps you could speak to her, and find out why she dislikes me so, that I may apologise."
"I need not ask her, Arwen." Aragorn stopped what he was doing and looked Arwen directly in the face. "Éowyn, is, shall we say, rather infatuated with me, so I am sure she cannot have been pleased to see you and I together."
"I see," Arwen said coldly.
"Do not be angry with her, she loves but a shadow and a thought. It is more a wanting to one day be a queen, so she may ride into battle, I believe. She is prevented from doing that now, when all she wants is to be able to prove her worth and be independent." He paused, and smiled slightly. "Indeed, you are both incredibly similar. Under different circumstances, I am sure you would find a close friend in her. And you may yet, I hope." He sighed. "Éowyn has had a difficult life, I cannot blame her for feeling the way she does."
"I am not angry, Estel. I am sure it is easy to become infatuated with such a handsome, brave warrior."
"I wonder who you can be speaking about, Arwen. She is infatuated with an ugly old Ranger who has killed a few Orcs, as are you. Really, you are both quite mad," Aragorn joked, lightening the atmosphere somewhat.
A little later, the food was ready. The Rangers, having more than enough for themselves, invited all to share their meal, as the others had so little food. The survivors of the battle sat on the ground or on the steps to the cortyard, as there were no tables.
Arwen found herself seated beside Éomer. Unfortunately, Éowyn was on the other side of her brother.
They were formally introduced, and Éowyn grudgingly took Arwen's eagerly offered hand. Arwen herself was anxious to narrow the rift between them, hoping to find a close friend as Aragorn had said she might. If she was to marry Aragorn and live in the world of Men, she would feel better about it if she had befriended at least one of them.
Arwen tried to be friendly, asking Éowyn questions about her interests and dislikes, encouraging her to tell her tales of Rohan, or questioning her about how the Rohirrim bred, trained and cared for their horses.
Arwen soon began to feel that she was conducting an interview rather than holding a conversation. Éowyn gave the shortest possible answers to everything, and did not ask a single question in return. She was perfectly mannered, but coldly so, obviously putting on a façade so as to not seem disrespectful, but subtly telling Arwen that she was not welcome through her body language and lack of interest.
"Do you have a horse specifically for yourself, lady Éowyn?"
"Yea."
"May I inquire as to his name?"
"Windfola."
"What's he like?"
"He's a bay stallion and has quite a fiery temperament. I would ride him into battle, but I am not allowed to fight, so I usually just ride him for travel, or in the odd jousting competition."
And so on. Aragorn watched the exchange form just within earshot. He wanted to sit by his beloved, but knew his presence would not improve the mood between them.
"Why are you standing there, staring at Arwen, like a lad of but fifteen years, who has no idea what a woman even is, let alone knows how to do something as terrifying as speak to one?" Came a slightly mocking voice.
"Rochwen, if you can't be helpful, shut up," snapped a rather disgruntled Aragorn. "I am standing here because I would love to go and sit next to Arwen, but I doubt doing so would help matters between her and Éowyn."
"I would go and sit down. You should not let anything so trivial as that prevent you going to Arwen, when she crossed many miles and a battlefield to be with you."
"You're right. Forgive me for snapping at you."
"Not a problem."
Aragorn walked over with his bowl of stew and quietly sat beside Arwen on the step.
Éowyn smiled. "Good evening, my lord."
"Evening, Lady," Aragorn said in a formal tone.
There was quite an awkward atmosphere over that table for the entire evening. Eventually, Aragorn grew tired of it.
"Arwen, would you care to come for a walk with me?" He asked, looking into the deep blue pools of Arwen's eyes.
"Of course, my lord. I would love to see Helm's Deep without the rush of battle."
Hand in hand, the two walked towards the fortress, the jealous stare of Éowyn directed at their retreating backs.
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