The winter was mild in the valley of Rivendell, the cold air giving rise to frost in the morning and foggy evenings, but no snow fell in the bounds of the valley. By February, the rangers started to come to the House of Elrond, bearing very little news other than wishing to come in from the cold. Daenir returned with two other rangers and Halbarad, Aragorn's second in command. Daenir seemed all too eager to return his borrowed horse back to Daeril, and the horse happy to be back in the stables.

"I expected you would be gone," He said to his sister, embracing her.

"Nay, the halflings all left together. And Aragorn, and Mithrandir."

"So they finally left. I wish them good fortune. The wolves are prowling through the mountains, it is a dangerous time to travel."

"Wolves do not often approach people. Especially groups, I believe they are safe."

"These aren't the shire wolves you know, they are far bigger and bolder."

"They should be far south by now, they left over a month ago."

By mid month, thirty Dunedain were gathered in Imladris at the bidding of Halbarad. Not nearly half of their kinsmen were present, but no more could be bidden to come. They were summoned to the Hall of Fire, the mostly dark haired mortals so contrasted with the fair elves, save for Elladan and Elrohir who could easily pass for one of them if not for their inhuman beauty. Daeril delighted in reuniting with cousins long unseen, and Aeldis whom she had feared slain after parting ways but was very much alive and well.

Thannor had come from Sarn Ford, along with Gilon and Hador. Daeril fought back tears when she greeted Hador, who had been with Faron as he was slain. She had tried to block out every memory of that night, and tried to forget his face, but Hador brought it all back. The two young rangers embraced, neither one having known each-others fates until now. Aeldis had not returned to the Ford following their escape, but had reached the Angle and remained there until Aragorn and Daenir came and rallied rangers to search for the Nazgul. Now some summons had brought all that could be found to Imladris, to the House of Elrond.

Halbarad spoke to the gathering, the firelight from the many fireplaces surrounding the room glinting off of the silver, many-rayed star on his cloak, the same one every ranger in the room wore pinning their matching grey cloaks on their left shoulders. Not often did so many of them gather all at once, and it was a sight to behold, even in so wondrous a place as Rivendell. They were to ride out at dawn, south to the Gap of Rohan, and onward to find Aragorn and lend him whatever strength of arms he required. Many of the rangers were old, and some quite young, but all were fighting fit and had more than enough heart to carry them through whatever toils they may encounter. Elladan and Elrohir would also ride with them, as they often did.

Daeril rose well before dawn, helping to ready the horses. Arraben's back had recovered, and would once again bear Daenir son of Rýndir. Rocky was sour as usual at being roused from his slumber, but allowed Daeril to brush him down all the same. When dawn came, 33 horses and 32 riders set out from Imladris, bound for Rohan, and their leader. They had spears and swords and bows, and every last one of them knew how to wield at least two. Most wore helms, and all wore some form of armor. Daeril had managed to procure a mail shirt and leather pieces from the guard supply thanks to her friendship with Radir. It was heavy, but not unbearable. A helm she kept tied to the rear of her saddle, knowing it could be needed but not wanting the metal blocking her vision as they rode. To the saddle horn was tied a long lead, attached to Roheryn's halter. The stallion would be brought for Aragorn, and as he and Rocky did not fight, Daeril had the distinct honor of wrangling him the entire way.

The weather held out for the departure from Rivendell, but it was cold in the mountains and nightfall brought a light snowfall with it. Wanting to make it to the Gap of Rohan sooner, the Gray Company, so named by Lord Elrond as they all wore gray cloaks, road without rest through the day and night. The horses, hardy and well taken care of, did not falter even as the miles stretched on. The snow ended as they passed into Hollin on the afternoon of the third day. They set up camp, resting the horses so they could press on into another multi-day ride. There had been sightings of wolves far off, but none approached as they camped in a grove of barren holly trees. Nevertheless, the company kept watches of two throughout the night as the others slept.

They continued like this through all of Hollin, passing into Dunland by weeks end. Dunland was already turning green in the late winter/early spring, and the hills rolled on seemingly forever. The company knew these lands were home to wildlings, the Hill Men they called them, or Dunlendings. Their loyalty was to themselves and possibly to the wizard Saruman in Isengard, who offered protection in exchange for their service in battle. The well armed and trained Dunedain could very well win in an attack by a small band of Dunlendings, but if there were more they could also be easily taken down. The Dunlendings were known to use poison arrows and other nasty methods of inflicting certain death on their enemies. They passed close to a small village at one point, spotting small houses made of wood and skins, but the cover of dim dawn light, stealth, and great haste brought them well away from the area and to relative safety.

They stopped one last time for a rest a days ride from the Gap of Rohan. From there they would continue on over the River Isen and into the plains of Rohan, where they would search for Aragorn wherever he may be. They had been given names of strongholds and cities, such as the Hornburg and Helm's Deep, and Edoras, and would check them as they came to them. This night they had the cover of a small forest, but did not light any fires for risk of drawing attention from any wildlings that may be in the same woods. Daeril took the first watch with Halbarad. They sat in the outskirts of the camp, back to back so as to see either side of the woods. Halbarad had always been further into the wild than Daeril ever had been posted, so she had never spent much time with him. It had been several years since she had last seen him, although he hadn't changed much. He had always been contemplative and stern, but warmhearted and dedicated. Reasons he had been the most trusted by Aragorn to lead them in his absences.

"You have changed much since I last saw you, Rýndirien." He said quietly in Sindarin, of which Daeril was sometimes far more comfortable speaking than Westron. "You look more like your father than even your brother."

"Aye. My father was not bald."

Halbarad snorted, trying to remain quiet.

"He always hoped you would be like your mother. You have her smile, but everything else is Rýndir."

Daeril had not known her mother. She had been somewhat old already when she gave birth, and died mere days later of some ailment, possibly her heart. All she had of her mother was what others told her of her, but even that was not enough to have any type of connection with her. She had always been attached to her father, begging him to take her on his patrols and riding in front of him on his horses every time he would leave, only to be left behind in the village to wait for his return. Until the day he didn't come back, and Aragorn came to her grandfather bearing Rýndir's sword wrapped within his gray cloak. She had been but seven years old, and did not fully understand why he was not there with his Chieftain. Soon she knew that he would never come home again. Daenir had been thirty when it happened, and was off in the far North, unaware of what had transpired until Aragorn himself brought him back to the village. He was given his father's sword, and the burden of becoming the guardian to a child that was not his, but a young sister born into a world on the brink of war.

"I do not wish to see women in battle, but I am honored to fight beside you, and Aeldis, if it comes to it. Your brother did well with you, from what I have been told."

"If I am to die in battle, than so be it. I do not wish to die, but if there is another life beyond this, I will be in good company."

"I was told of your friendship with Faron. I grieve for your loss."

Daeril did not wish to speak any more on the subject, and Halbarad did not push it further. They sat in comfortable silence, hearing the soft breathing of the other rangers and the call of night birds in the treetops, until Elladan and Daenir came to relieve them. Daeril, knowing this could be the last chance to rest for some days as they would reach Rohan, could not stay her minds wanderings long enough to drift off to sleep. She lay with her eyes shut, yet regretfully awake, until the sun crept up on the horizon and the last watch woke the entire company. They all mounted, and were away to the Gap of Rohan, eager to be closer to finding their Chieftain.

The Grey Company passed through the Gap of Rohan at evening fall, and late into the evening came to the Ford of Isen. It was dark, but the horses could still hear the water going through the Ford. Not deep, but moving nonetheless. Daeril could feel Rocky stiffen as they galloped across, but he did not shy or make any attempt to throw her. She hoped it was an improvement in him and not just the influence of the stallion that ran beside them. The company rode in 3 ranks of 10 riders across, making a well ordered company. Daeril rode in the front line, having two of the fastest horses, and used all of her control to keep them in line as they galloped at full speed. Daeril thought she saw something glinting in the moonlight far up ahead, and her suspicions were confirmed when a loud voice rang out in the night shouting in Westron.

"Halt! Halt! Who rides in Rohan?"

A/N: Thank you to my only reviewer, JayBat! You rock, I appreciate your support!