I seem to be pacing myself, but hey, there's nothing wrong with that. the first version of Chapter 6 showed that we were engaged in battle already, then the next three chapters were spent in present time. i aim to fix this by keeping myself in Middle Earth for as long as possible.
now then…
Disclaimers: don't own LOTR, all that stuff

Chapter 6: Rohan

My world was black again. I felt light. There was pressure in my head. It felt like I could tip over.

I was then aware of my head between my knees. I was clawing at the forest floor with my nails. My head was spinning. How long had it been since I rested? Since I had a bite to eat?

Voices.

"…they used to call me," I heard. "I am Gandalf the White." Ah. So Gandalf survived the "attack." I should have expected as much.

A curious pause. I heard Aragorn's feet shuffle to the side as someone approached me. I presumed it to be Gandalf. I became aware of a pair of hands on my back, rubbing my shoulders. I hadn't noticed Legolas beside me before until Gandalf started talking.

"And what have we here?" the wizard inquired. "Another Halfling?" Okay, I'm not that short. Thanks a lot, Gandalf.

"A girl," Aragorn answered. "We found her in the forests north of the Glanduin River. She is…not of our time."

"Hmm. How interesting…" It seemed like Gandalf knew more about my situation than Aragorn was letting him in on.

"She was nearly dead when we found her," Legolas said from his spot beside me. "She's proved to be useful and her knowledge of…things, we found to be very advantageous. We've been helping her to recover." I felt Gandalf trace a finger curiously over the bump at the base of my skull. I had forgotten all about it. It felt smaller and didn't hurt as much. So if I was steadily healing, why was I still so dizzy all of the time?

"She was attacked," Aragorn said. "She's doing better, but she's still weak, it seems."

"I'm conscious, you know," I muttered. The blood was returning to my head. I was gradually feeling sturdier, so I slowly straightened up, still sitting on my feet.

Gandalf was kneeling in front of me. Legolas was on the ground to my right, his hands still on my shoulders, like he was supporting me. Gimli was standing off to my left and Aragorn was behind Gandalf.

"You weren't two minutes ago, young one," the wizard said. Really? I thought I had been awake the whole time. I had suspected that I couldn't hear Gandalf talking because my head was throbbing so much. So I had been unconscious with my head between my knees? Man, how awkward must that have looked?

I stared at Gandalf rather incredulously.

"For how long…?"

"A few minutes," Aragorn answered.

I can't just keep passing out! What if they decide I'd become a burden, deadweight, and ditch me?

Now, now. You're becoming paranoid again.

"No, I'm being perfectly reasonable," I mouthed aside to myself. Gandalf cocked his head, then looked back to Aragorn. Aragorn started saying things in Elvish to Gandalf (again with the Elvish!), with the two of them occasionally glancing at me. More conversing. Then—

"Aahhh…" Gandalf said, like he had grasped something. "How interesting indeed."

Fear. Panic. Confusion. Worry. What were their reasons for keeping every conversation from me?

Aragorn knelt in front of me. I focused my gaze on him. It looked like he was scrutinizing me, trying to read my face. He held up his hand to my face then. I leaned back, confused. He then grazed my cheek with a finger. He pulled back, and his finger was wet.

What…?

"Why do you cry?" he said quietly, gently. I quickly wiped at my eyes with both hands.

"I don't know," I whispered. There was no lie in my words.

"Are you afraid?"

This question struck me. At first, I wondered what there was to be afraid of. But as Aragorn and I continued staring at each other, I started to think: Well, there's a lot to be afraid of. I'm in a coma that I may never wake from. If I died here, would I die in real life? What if I was stuck in Middle Earth forever? Then there was the near irrational fear that my only chances of survival were going to suddenly leave me, when I knew in the back of my mind that they wouldn't be that heartless. There was the paranoia of not knowing what they were talking about all the time. Gimli didn't seem to mind, so knowing that I was the only one left in the dark only heightened this fear.

This fear.

I fixed my eyes on Aragorn's. "Yes."

Aragorn looked taken aback. So much for being resilient, eh? He turned to look up at Gandalf. The wizard nodded once.

"Let's get a move on," he said. Legolas helped me to my feet. I felt so limp, so helpless.

It was such an irritating feeling.

.xXx.

A few miles of walking through the forest and we reached the outskirts, where the forest ended and the fields began again. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the new light, but it felt good to finally be out of Fangorn. I was holding on to Legolas's arm now. During the hike, my strength had slowly begun to return and I lost the need to hang on to him completely. That and I could only wonder if he resented me for making him bear all of my weight.

A large field was splayed before us, which I could only assume was the West Emnet. I wanted to ask someone to confirm this assumption, but not only did I lack the strength suddenly to speak, I was interrupted.

Gandalf started to whistle. Two separate notes. As if on cue, a brilliant white stallion rode towards us from beyond the hill.

"Shadowfax," we said together. Gandalf didn't look at me, rather, he started to pet the horse. Oh sure, back at home it was just a horse. I just couldn't really appreciate it until I was…standing next to it, however unlikely that seemed.

I became suddenly aware of something: the rest of us didn't have horses. I had forgotten that their encounter with the Riders of Rohan would earn them the two ownerless horses, but since I had deterred them away from the Riders, we had not obtained the horses.

Way to go, me.

I decided not to tell them this fact. To distract myself, I pulled out and unfolded the map. Upon studying it, I determined that there was only a mere one hundred miles separating us from the Westfold.

Wow. Way to go, me.

I groaned. What was I going to do? I'd die before we reached Rohan in my condition! If only I knew what was up with my condition in the first place, maybe I could do something about it and not be such a burden.

Now, now, Kendra, you're beating yourself up a little much, don't you think?

No, I don't.

Paranoid again?

No, I'm just going crazy is all. Which, might be the same thing. But I'm talking to myself, I can hear myself talking to…myself. That makes me crazy, I'm pretty sure.

I was pulled out of my thoughts when Gandalf yanked me onto the back of his horse, seating me right in front of him. This left me wondering not only how such an old man like Gandalf could lift my near-dead weight, but also if he could read my mind. Nah, he was probably just being precautious, hospitable, understanding.

"Well, no sense in us just standing around," Gandalf said. "Come along." He nudged the horse and the five of us started south.

A new wave of emotions. On top of previously felt fear, panic, confusion, and worry, I was now also feeling guilt and self-doubt. I wanted to tell myself not to be angsty or emo or whatever, but I just couldn't help it. I was making my initial three companions walk the next hundred or so miles while I lounged on this magnificent white steed like some spoiled city girl…without the city. After all they've done for me, after all they've been through for me, they're still bleeding their feet.

For me.

What a bitch I feel like right now.

Calm down, you're just having an anxiety attack.

And that's not something to get worked up about? All of this was because of band practice and my persistence. If I had just gone home when I found out I didn't have anything to play with, I wouldn't have gotten whacked, I wouldn't have ended up in this stupid coma, and I certainly wouldn't be beating myself up over this alleged hallucination right now. Had none of this happened, had I gone home instead of stayed at school to avoid my family (as I so often do) I wouldn't be experiencing such guilt right now.

I hate this feeling.

But think of the potentials!

Of what? Of being half-dead in the middle of nowhere? I'm dead weight to them, and I'm about to launch myself into this huge battle of epic proportions where pretty much no one survives because the enemy essentially outnumbers us by roughly forty to one! The only reason I'm still here, that I'm not dead yet is so I can keep them alive!

So much help I'll be once I'm dead.

But I could actually see some potentials now. I knew how many Uruk-hai Saruman was going to throw at us and what they would be armed with. Maybe if Théoden will listen to me and not think I'm completely insane or possessed, then we'd have the chance to better supply and prepare ourselves so that we won't be so screwed over when they attack.

I may even be able to save Haldir…assuming that the Elves come in the first place…

It was such a comforting feeling.

.xXx.

I opened my eyes and it was nearly dark. Or nearly light, whichever one; they both look the same. I was lying on my back, on the grass. Aragorn's cloak was laid out beneath me like a tarp, then folded over my bare arms like a blanket. I heard a fire crackling beside me, and the heavy breathing of Gandalf's horse a few yards away.

When had I fallen asleep?

I rolled over quietly and propped myself up on my elbows, testing my stability. It seemed adequate. At least I didn't fall back down again. That being said and done, I looked around.

A small fire was lit on the exposed dirt. The unwanted grass that had previously resided there had been uprooted and thrown to the side. The fire seemed to be dying, yet no one was tending to it. Where was everyone?

I looked around. Gandalf was lying beside his horse, muttering quietly in his sleep. Gimli was nowhere to be seen. And the others?

I lifted myself up higher, supporting my weight on the balls of my palms now. Not far away, but not too close either, I spotted Aragorn and Legolas. They were sitting next together, backs turned towards the fire and towards me. I cocked my head upon observing how…closely they were sitting next to each other.

I wanted to say something. What would happen though if they knew I had caught them…doing whatever it was that they were doing? I could hear them talking quietly, in English this time, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I was insanely curious, but I knew it wasn't my business. It wasn't really like me to pry. Asking would be awkward anyway. I don't deal well with awkward situations, besides.

I quietly laid back down, wrapping the cloak around myself again.

Just being here felt wrong.

.xXx.

The next time I opened my eyes, it was to the sun. I was still lying in the grass, still wrapped up in Aragorn's cloak. I couldn't hear the fire anymore. In its place, I heard voices. In clear English.

"…another forty miles maybe to the Westfold," I heard Aragorn say. Paper shuffling. He must have taken the map from me while I was sleeping. "Kendra has already told us of the pending battle that is to be, but not of its outcome. We don't know what to expect."

"We can question her more when she awakes, although her willingness to provide us with information is somewhat hesitant." So they had told Gandalf of my "power" already. This will save me time, I suppose.

"She certainly sleeps a lot, doesn't she?" Gimli said, gruffly. When did he return?

"It is understandable, given what she's been through," Legolas said. "But why hasn't she fully recovered by now?" A pause.

"I don't know," Gandalf said finally. "But it would not be wise to leave her behind." Aragorn must have told him about his previous worry, the one he had back in the cave north of the Glanduin. "The way I see it, she is our greatest advantage in this impending battle. She will talk if she hopes of surviving this as well, and I have no doubt that she knows this." Another pause.

Gandalf was on my side. Gandalf was a strong asset to the rest of the journey, to my survival. I could feel the self-doubt dissipating steadily, but the guilt was still there. Hope was starting to return, but couldn't help but feel doubtful about our survival in the battle. Even with my help, how could we hope to survive it? Even if our numbers doubled, tripled even, we could never hope to win.

Could we?

Shuffling in the grass, and the four of them got up. I closed my eyes as I heard one of them approach me. He knelt down by my head and brushed the hair out of my face. The rough fingers told me it was Aragorn. He traced his thumb across my cheekbone gently, yet with pressure. Was he trying to wake me up? It seemed like it, so I stirred slightly and sighed. I opened my eyes again, this time to Aragorn leaning over me.

"Time to go," he said. I sat up, pulling the cloak up with me. He handed me the piece of rabbit meat that was his, untouched from the last time we had settled down to rest. I ate it hungrily, though dry it was. I fished around in my backpack for the water skins. While the others were studying the map, I drank quickly and replaced the skin. I zipped up my bag and stood up.

I elected to walk with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli rather than ride with Gandalf again. For one thing, I didn't want to feel weak, nor did I want them to think I was weak. I had slept long and well, and I had strength. For another thing, I didn't want my initial companions to feel alone again. Walking with them helped to relieve some of my guilt, but raised some new guilt when I asked myself if I was just doing this out of pity.

What's with these thoughts all of the sudden? These feelings of guilt and self-doubt? The feeling that I don't belong here, that I shouldn't be here…what's happening?

A dozen miles down, and I felt dizzy again. Maybe it was because I was becoming sick, because I hadn't fully healed from the tuba attack…or maybe it was because these doubts, these suffocating feelings, and this constant worry were finally getting to me.

I swayed backwards, and Aragorn was beside me in an instant, holding me by the shoulders. "Maybe it wasn't wise for you to choose to walk," he said.

"I wanted to," I insisted. Aragorn made a face, the expression of which I couldn't read. Another pair of hands was on me, and suddenly I was back on the horse. As much as I didn't want to be, as much as I would rather have been walking with the guys despite my condition, I knew I wasn't going anywhere.

And that was that.

For the time being, anyway.

I almost fell asleep again, but I kept myself awake by forcing conversation with the men walking beside me. It seemed that they wanted to know more about the world I came from, so I thoroughly answered whatever questions that came my way. Most inquiries were about technology and weaponry, both of which I couldn't describe very well. Yet they were still fascinated all the same. It didn't matter if I couldn't answer them very well; they wouldn't know the difference.

We ascended a moderately large hill. On the top, we spotted the wooden gates of Rohan and the village behind it. Beyond that was the palace where we would find Théoden. I almost wanted to tell my companions what would happen now and later, once we encountered Wormtongue and what to do. I recalled telling them that Wormtongue was in control of Théoden, but I don't remember telling them how to free the king. Gandalf would know, I guess.

This was it. War was upon us. And I was to help them through it. Our first order of business was to rid the kingdom of Mordor's spawn. After that, how long would it take for Wormtongue to report back to Saruman?

The fighting may not have begun yet, but the battle had already started.

End Chapter 6

Can you tell I'm kind of making this up as I go? i'm quite satisfied with the way it's turning out. although I'm having problems plotting out the rest of the chatpters. oh well. i guess i'll cross that road when we come to it, eh?
please review! Criticism, advice, corrections, I'll take anything.