Thanks Safrina, Memory bleeds, dangrgurl7283, Pissenoffanis, Laurelin M. Estel, Lady Lea, Rushingriver, Lift the Wings, zenrockstar, sofia, and RandomTownTerrorizingPenguin for your reviews!

Possibilities

Sunset was nearly upon Middle-Earth as the ships neared their destination. Aralyn looked up from her finally new-looking weapons to gaze at the dilapidated stone dock. The King of the Dead was standing next to her.

"Do me a favor," she said. "Clear the city first and give the rest of us a chance for action."

"As you wish." The king disappeared as one of the orcs on the shore called,

"Come on, you sea rats, get off your ships!"

To the surprise of the enemy, two humans, an elf, and a dwarf leaped onto the shore.

"There's plenty for the three of us, may the best dwarf win," Gimli growled just before the Dead appeared behind them and began killing the orcs alongside the four living leaders. Sensing the same presence she had felt on the borders of Rohan, Aralyn ran towards the middle of the battle-field, killing many orcs as she went. By the time she reached her destination, Éowyn was just finishing off the Witch King.

"Éowyn, don't…" the ranger warned, but it was too late. The woman was touched by the Black Breath, causing her to fall to her knees as the wraith shriveled in death; however, Aralyn noticed that it was not the one she had fought. "Éowyn, are you alright?"

"I…think so," was the answer.

"Go to the House of Healing as soon as this is over. If you don't, you will die. Do understand me?" The other woman didn't respond at first. "Éowyn! Do you understand me?!"

"Uh…Yes."

"Good, now stay out of the way and don't get yourself into trouble."

At that, Aralyn raced off towards the Mûmakil that Legolas was scaling. She growled at the elf's high number of kills and drew her bow tight.

"…twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…" As Legolas downed the giant creature and slid down its trunk to the ground, the woman found herself next to Gimli, who yelled,

"That still only counts as one!"

"So…Aralyn, what's your count so far?" the elf queried.

"Hold that a moment," she replied, rushing towards a small group of foes, slaughtering them, and returning. "…an even forty."

Not waiting for a reaction, the girl sped off to where she remembered leaving Éowyn, although she was nowhere to be found. Looking towards the city, she watched as the Dead melted away into the wind. Determined to find Éowyn, Aralyn walked around for several minutes and even checked underneath bodies for the woman of Rohan. Speaking of which, she had never seen so many corpses lying around in one place in her lifetime. Then, her eyes caught sight of Éomer cradling his unconscious sister some twenty feet away. She also noticed that Aragorn was watching as well, though he soon glanced her way. As Aralyn heard a crunching sound behind her, both the faces of Aragorn and Éomer showed alarm. Whipping around with her sword, metal clashed against metal as she faced a small group of about eight orcs, nothing particularly worrisome.

(Éomer)

The Man of Rohan wasn't quite sure what to do. He wanted to stay with his sister, and yet, there was the girl who he kept running into, battling a small band of their enemies. He hadn't noticed Aragorn until the Man ran from behind him to aid Falathiel; however, by the time the help came, it was unnecessary. The woman had killed every single one of her foes and was walking in the direction of one of the dead Mûmakil.

(Ok, that was short...Aralyn)

What had Aragorn been thinking? She was perfectly fine and he knew it!

"Drifter!" she suddenly heard a rather hobbit-like voice call from not far away. Going around the leg of the giant creature, she found Merry and Pippin on the ground, the latter holding the former away from the ground. "Drifter!" Pippin cried with relief. "He's injured! He needs help."

The woman then bent down to her wounded friend. His problem was not so much any mortal wound as he had somehow been touched by the Black Breath. Taking some herbs from her belt bag, she stated,

"He will not long survive if I don't do something now."

"How do you know that? And what makes you think that those herbs will do any good?" the halfling insisted on the verge of panic.

"Pippin," the girl firmly replied as she ministered to Merry, "first, believe it not, I have read a few books in my lifetime; second, this is not just any plant. I have used it for years and it is called…well, you know it as Kingsfoil."

"Of course! Aragorn used it for Frodo at Weathertop. It seems so long ago."

"Yes, it does." Aralyn paused before proceeding to pick Merry up. "We need to move him into the House of Healing. Follow me."

The two companions then began picking their way through the maze of fallen allies and enemies, finally reaching their destination after what seemed like hours.

"Take him to Aragorn," she told the woman after handing Merry to his new carrier. Having finally completed that mission, Aralyn wandered through the House before encountering a particular room which housed a familiar face.

"Faramir?" she asked the Man who was looking out his window, clearly desperate for release.

"Yes?" Faramir looked confused for a moment. "Falathiel?"

"It is good to see you, dear friend." The Gondorian's face lit up upon hearing the greeting. "What happened to you?"

"I was shot by orc arrows before the Riders of Rohan had even arrived." Faramir's joyful look turned to one which Aralyn was more than familiar with. "I lost all of my men."

"Faramir," she said softly, kneeling in front of the Man who had just sat on the bed, "not many can say this, but I can: I understand…more than you know." As she rose to leave, Faramir grabbed her arm.

"There's something I need to tell you. When he was still here, Boromir never stopped talking about you since the day you left when we were but children. Though countless women would have done anything for his love, he never thought of anyone but you. In battle, he whispered your name like a prayer before each encounter. He loved you, Falathiel."

Silence reigned for a moment as Aralyn took hold of her boiling emotions.

"I know...You may leave this stuffy room if you should so choose, although, I would advise against roaming beyond the walls of the House of Healing. If anyone asks, just tell them that Aralyn gave you leave to do so. Oh, and, by the way, the princess of Rohan is here also." With a wink, the woman walked out, leaving Faramir slightly speechless.

Though she could have gone to the servants and easily requested a bath, Aralyn, guessing that they had plenty to do, jogged straight to the Great Hall. Going directly to the newest statue, she stared into its eyes, thinking.

"Oh, Falathiel! I didn't expect you to be here," a grandfatherly voice exclaimed. Turning to Gandalf, the woman sadly replied,

"It's alright…you may now call me by my true name…of course, if you don't want to, I'm perfectly fine with it."

"Dear girl," the wizard chuckled, "I'm glad you finally decided to slip from the shadows. Now, before deliberations for our next move begin to come up, tell me…what happened between here and Rohan?"

--

Through most of the night, Aralyn spent her time talking to Gandalf; however, she went to quickly bathe before returning in the morning.

"If Sauron had the Ring, we would know it," Aragorn was stating as the woman walked in, wearing a new travel dress, much like her other one, except that it was a deep blue.

"It is only a matter of time," the wizard haggled. "He has suffered a defeat, yes, but behind the walls of Mordor, our enemy is regrouping."

"Let him stay there!" Gimli suggested as Éomer nodded to Aralyn with annoyingly great courtesy. "Let him rot! Why should we care?"

"Because ten thousand orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom. I've sent him to his death."

"No," Aragorn argued. "There is still hope for Frodo. He needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

"How?" the dwarf asked.

"Draw out Sauron's armies. Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

"We cannot achieve victory through strength of arms," Éomer stated while Gimli choked on his pipe.

"Not for ourselves, but we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"A diversion," Legolas approvingly noted.

"Certainty of death," Gimli pondered, "small chance of success…what are we waiting for?"

"Sauron will suspect a trap," Gandalf once again countered. "He will not take the bait."

"Oh, I think he will," Aragorn replied.

Just then, Aralyn realized what her brother was thinking.

"Aragorn, you're a genius! Of course it will work. Though, if you're going to do this, the rest of us should not be here."

"Do you not think that it will be more effective if we both do it?"

"Sauron already knows of my existence. He sent a wraith after me to prove it. I believe that your appearance will simply throw him over the edge."

At that, the woman walked out, eventually followed by the others after they had been told of Aragorn's plan. As she walked to the battlement and looked to the east, she was soon joined by Éomer.

"Normally, in times of trouble," he said, "I ask the women I care about to stay hidden and safe. Of course, this isn't exactly a normal situation."

"You care for many women?" Aralyn casually asked, taking advantage of the Man's weak wording.

"No, that's not what I meant…"

"I understand. However, you hardly know me. How could you care for me?"

"It may sound childish, but I feel that I have known you my entire life through the stories my uncle told me."

"That brings to mind…I heard of Théoden's death. My condolences…he was a good friend of mine."

"I accept the condolences, but you are changing the subject, Falathiel."

"It's Aralyn…you can still call me Falathiel, though. It will take me some time to get used to my real name, again."

"Again, you change the subject. I have never fallen in love with anyone, Falathiel…until now."

"Éomer…you can't love me. Out of all the women in Middle-Earth, you can't love me."

"Why not?"

The woman was tired of men falling in love with her, which was why Éomer was causing her temper to begin rising.

"I have loved and been loved by three men in my lifetime, Éomer," she said, her voice beginning to heighten with her temper. "Now, I may be ninety-seven years old, but that is still far too many for anyone. Even Arwen Evenstar has only loved one man, yet here I am…with another Man flirting with me! Now…if you'll excuse me, I have a battle to prepare for."

Aralyn then proceeded to walk towards the temporary quarters which had been assigned to her, leaving a rather stunned Éomer.

Thanks for reading! Please review! I'll be closing the poll probably the day after I finish this story, so please vote while you can! I know this chapter was particularly short, but, for some reason, I wasn't paying attention to how many pages I was writing…don't ask. Anyway, the next chapter should be up within the next few days…as usual.