Oh what fun it is to completely forget to factor yourself in with your foresight! Now with special guest appearances!

Disclaimer: Tolkien owns Tolkien, you own you!

The journey from Fangorn to Edoras is a short one. The day has turned a bit chilly, almost as if reflecting what will be found in the Golden Hall. Despite the initial lack of hospitality, you're quite excited to get settled in Rohan, however temporarily. The world of Men is the only one you have not explored in depth, and you're interested to see how it differs from the one you left behind. Plus, making the acquaintance of Eowyn, seemingly the only woman in Middle Earth besides Arwen and Dis, will be a welcome respite from all the men.

The six of you ride through the gates of Edoras. The town is almost silent save for the horses' hoofbeats on the brick road. Everyone is in mourning black - for Theodred, you remember. You wonder briefly if you should have looked into saving him.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli mutters.

Attendants take the horses when you arrive at the doors of Meduseld. Hama intercepts the group. He says almost apologetically, "I cannot allow you before Theoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame - by order of Grima Wormtongue."

Gandalf nods in signal to allow the disarming. You cheerfully hand over your sword, bow, axe, and daggers to one of the guards. He blinks at your haul but does not comment.

Hama adds to Gandalf, "Your staff."

And all of the sudden, Gandalf the White is nothing more than a weak old man. "Oh! You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" He looks at Hama innocently.

Hama nods reluctantly and stands aside.

Meduseld possesses a sort of rustic, rough beauty - far from the fairness of Erebor or Rivendell or Lorien, but grand in its own way. The attending guards stare at the bizarre array of newcomers as you pass them.

Gandalf's powerful voice rings out. "The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late, Theoden-King."

Theoden's response is much weaker and more wavering: "Why...should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

You wrinkle your nose as Wormtongue takes over. "A just question, my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. LathspelI, name him. Ill news is an ill guest!"

Gandalf is having none of it. "Be silent! Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" He raises his staff, and Wormtongue retreats in realization.

"His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

The hostile guards, likely those following Wormtongue, attack as Gandalf advances on Theoden. You fight back merrily and with ease, careful not to cause too much lasting damage on the fragile mortals.

"Theoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows."

You absently crack one guard's head against a pillar, now interested in the scene unfolding. Saruman tries in vain to keep hold of Theoden; he is nothing before Gandalf's new power. With a loud *crack*, Theoden is thrown back in his seat and the spell broken. He de-ages in high speed, losing the decades brought on by Saruman's leechcraft. Eowyn runs to his side. You smile at the heartwarming scene.

Theoden reclaims his sword and instantly has the mind to put it to good use. Wormtongue is ejected from the hall and rolls down the steps with several satisfying crunches. His begging is useless. Unfortunately, Aragorn stops Theoden from exacting some well-deserved revenge.

Later, as Hama shows the lot of you to some guest rooms, you say to Aragorn, "I reckon you should have let him."

"What, let Theoden kill Wormtongue?"

"Yeah. Would've made things easier."

Aragorn pauses before his door. He turns deliberately and places his hands on your shoulder. "My good lady," he begins, and you're shocked and amused to hear genuine irritation in his tone, "you may have grown to take your foreknowledge as a given, but in the future, do tell me when an important decision is coming up, especially if it's one I make."

It's a good thing he has a hold of your shoulders, otherwise you would have fallen over laughing. "I never knew it bothered you!" you gasp, wiping your eyes. "Oh Aragorn, I'm sorry! Maybe I am blase about future things, but I'm also used to not divulging unless absolutely necessary."

"And was that not necessary?"

"No, not really. I only said that Theoden playing golf with Wormtongue's head would have made things easier. I have plans for plans, Estel. You needn't be so uptight. You've made very good decisions thus far, and you will continue to do so."

"Then what? Why would Wormtongue's death been preferable?"

You suppose you can give Aragorn a sneak peek as a sign of goodwill. "Well, you would have found out tomorrow, but I can tell you now. With Saruman's orcs attacking villages, Theoden will have the city run to Helm's Deep. Wormtongue knows this, and he will run and tell Saruman. There will be a battle at Helm's Deep."

Aragorn's dark eyes stare into yours. His expression is blank, and his voice is bleak. "You say it so matter-of-factly."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I've had sixty years with that in mind. Er, I probably shouldn't tell you any more. I don't want to upset you. But if it makes you feel any better, Lord Elrond knows the battle will take place. I told him the major events of the war so he and the White Council could prepare accordingly."

"What is it like?" he asks quietly.

You don't need clarification. "Sometimes it's terribly fun...and sometimes it's miserable," you say truthfully. "Knowing Gandalf had to fall made it no easier when it happened. But, did you know, Boromir was supposed to die. Three arrows instead of one. I came specifically prepared to fix that, because I knew he deserved to live. So it's a very mixed bag, really. But you're right, maybe sometimes I forget that things I've known for ages are shattering news to everyone else."

Your explanation seems to have relaxed him. He says gently, "You have a great soul, Aniel. I would not want such a power at the disposal of anyone else."

"Thank you, Aragorn. That means a lot, coming from you. You know, I could tell you your part of the story, if you were interested..."

Aragorn smiles and shakes his head. "That, my lady, is something I'd rather discover for myself."

"And what wonders you shall discover, mellon-nin!" You clap him on the shoulder.

You rise early the next morning, too eager to explore Edoras to sleep in. You dress quickly and fly through the little parlor so quickly that you hardly register Eowyn right in your path. You swerve to miss her and knock into the table she just placed a bowl of fruit on.

"Sorry!" You exclaim, regaining your balance. "My apologies, Lady Eowyn, and good morning."

"Good morning, my lady..."

"Just Aniel is fine! I was just off to admire Edoras! I've been so excited to get here."

Eowyn smiles slightly. "Your enthusiasm is an honor to us all. Will you have some breakfast before you go?"

You grab an apple from the bowl and thank her before dashing out.

The general mood has not improved from yesterday, but you're so thrilled to be around people that they may as well be singing in the streets. It's not hard to tell that Edoras has seen better days, but then again, so has most of the world. The wooden buildings are sturdy and weathered, and the people are similar. The market, though busy, is much quieter than it should be. Women buy the day's fare, shopkeepers watch their wares, and groups of traders bunch around stalls. The new sun gleams off the coins used to trade and off a very familiar mane of golden hair...

You take off at a dead sprint down the muddy lane, the joyous shout breaking and echoing: "FILIIIII!"

Fili turns not a second too soon to be almost tackled by you. "Aniel?" he gasps incredulously. "What - what are you doing here?!"

"What are you doing here? No, I don't even care, I'm so happy to see you!"

You finally calm down enough to hold a proper conversation - after similarly greeting Balin, who had also come on what Fili says is a simple bartering run. You're momentarily skeptical of the story, wondering if somehow Thorin had sent them, but he could have never known you'd be in Edoras. The three of you catch up in a pub.

"How is it?" you ask eagerly. "How is it home at Erebor?"

"Given the circumstances, very smooth," Balin says. "We are not to venture far except for trade. There are orcs and other unsavory folk in the lands nearby."

Your heart clenches. "Have there been any attacks?"

"No, none, and if there are to be, they will not be soon. Still, we are on our guard."

"Okay, I - I don't want to talk about that. Er, how is everyone?"

At this, Fili grins widely. "You have not heard the news?"

"News?"

"Tauriel is with child."

Your shriek of excitement can possibly be heard in Mordor. "Oh, I can't believe it! That's wonderful! How far along? Will the baby be born by the time I get back?"

"Three months, according to Oin. They're working on names already."

You fully intend to slaughter every orc to make the world safe for your new grand-nibling. "And Thorin?"

At this, Balin and Fili roll their eyes and groan in unison. "Unbearable," Fili grumbles.

"He is less than cheerful," Balin agrees.

"He's moping. And he's even grouchier than usual. Whatever quest you are on, Aniel, I pray it concludes quickly, for all our sake."

Your heart is pricked for Thorin, but you can't help but laugh. "Is he really so useless without me?"

"Useless is the perfect word for it," Fili huffs. "It's a small comfort, though - Bilbo's written ahead and said he's coming for a visit. Perhaps he'll be able to whip Thorin into shape."

The idea that Bilbo will soon be in Erebor is comforting, mostly because he will be in a safe place. It also doesn't hurt that between him and Dis, Thorin will be forced to function whether he wants to or not. But you do feel bad for him; you're sure you'd be in the same boat if you didn't have so many things to think about. And speaking of things to think about -

"Oh no, what time is it?" You look outside; the sun is getting on in the sky. "Sorry, I have to get back - I'm staying in Meduseld with the others - but I'll see you this evening! Meet be back here! Bye, I love you!"

You run out of the pub and back up the stairs to the Golden Hall. Everyone has just gathered. The two children from the Westfold are being comforted by Eowyn. You do your best to compose yourself and take a seat like you've totally been there the entire time.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf is saying. "All the more potent, for he is driven now by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children. You must fight!"

Aragorn adds, "You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Eomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king."

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now!" Theoden paces, agitated. "Eomer cannot help us. I know what it is that you want of me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

"Open war is upon you, whether you would risk it or not."

"When last I looked, Theoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan."

Gandalf recalls Theoden. "Then what is the king's decision?"

Theoden deliberates for a moment more, then says, "We will make for Helm's Deep. Within the walls, we will endure. And we shall go sooner rather than later."

Gandalf fumes at Theoden's lack of cooperation. Theoden muses futher on the logistics of the migration. The hall is silent until you break it.

"You know what," you say aloud, "I bet if we went in a few days, we'd miss the wargs. They'd go back to report to Saruman, leaving the way clear for us, and then there'd be no fight."

Theoden turns and regards you with bewilderment. "I do not believe I have your name, my lady."

"Oh, my apologies! I am Aniel of Erebor, at your service, my lord."

"Erebor? The Dwarf kingdom?"

Gandalf interjects unexpectedly, "Aniel is Queen Under the Mountain and possessed with the gift of foresight."

Theoden's surprise grows. "Is it true?" he asks you.

"It is," you reply, throwing Gandalf an annoyed look.

"Then explain to me what you said regarding the warg attack."

"If we leave now, a pack of wargs will meet us on the way and there will be a skirmish. A pointless waste of lives, really, when we could leave the morning after next and avoid it altogether. But it is your decision, my lord."

Theoden stares at you a little longer, then nods curtly. "The morning after next, then. Perhaps it is better; we will have more time to prepare. I take my leave."

He exits towards the chambers, and Gandalf goes for the door. You and the others run to catch up. "What was that about, telling Theoden all that?" you demand. "I thought I had to keep that under wraps!"

"Theoden is a noble man of strong will, but I fear for him. He will not listen to me, and he will not listen to Aragorn, so perhaps he will listen to you as a woman of royalty and magic."

"Listen to me? I can hardly get my husband to listen to me! Are you seriously putting me in charge of one of the most important battles in this war?!"

Gandalf looks right at you. "Yes."

His seriousness turns your anger to fear.

"For a short time, anyway. Until I can return with Eomer. Until then, their defenses must hold."

"I - but - "

"They will hold," Aragorn says firmly.

"Good. With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the East."

Gandalf gallops out of the stables, leaving you speechless.

Boromir also saddles a horse. "I am off as well."

"Off?" You blink at him. "Where?"

"To Gondor. I will return with aid. Our defenses are strained, but my father will honor his bonds with Theoden even with a hundred men!"

You grab his arm. "Boromir, if you go to Gondor - I mean, I never saw you doing that, so I don't know what will happen - "

Boromir smiles down at you. "Not all of us are blessed with knowledge of the future, but we make do," he says merrily. "I will return, Aniel. And with luck, I will not be late!"

You step back with a whimper. So many things have veered off the path that you're starting to get panicked.

"Plans for plans, remember?" Aragorn murmurs in your ear.

"This wasn't supposed to happen - it was supposed to be you, not me - "

"I will be with you," he assures you. "I will be there if you need me."

"Not if, when!"

"When, then. Why don't you go to bed and rest, now. You seem stressed."

"Understatement," you mutter, and exit the stables.

Instead of going straight to bed, you wander the streets in a grump. You can't believe Gandalf has assigned you to be Theoden's advisor, and without even consulting you first! That's an additional pressure on top of making sure the wall is never breached. This battle was supposed to be easy, at least as far as battles go. You grumble to yourself about unknowing people mucking up your plans.

"Aniel?"

You look up at the voice. It's Fili, Balin beside him, right in the place you'd told them to meet you. You don't quite have time to change your mood, and they notice.

"What is it, lass?" Balin asks, frowning at your hard expression.

"It's nothing important."

"Now, none of that! Has something gone wrong with your quest?"

"Yes," you say bitterly before you can stop yourself, then you sigh. "Well, no, not entirely. It's just that some things are off and I didn't expect them to be. But that's me, not factoring myself in because I'm an idiot..."

Fili throws an arm around your shoulders. "Sounds like someone needs a drink."

The bit of mead and the weight of the stress compels you to tell all to Balin and Fili. You know it's not wise, but once you start, you cannot stem the flow of complaints and fears. "...and I just can't believe he would throw me under the cart like that, like I don't have enough to think about with trying to keep a bunch of stubborn, sword-happy boys in line!" you finish in a frustrated yell.

You wonder if they'd even heard the end of your rant, for Fili starts talking only seconds later. "There isn't time to call for an army from home," he begins.

"No."

"What do you mean, no?"

"I mean, no, don't even think about it. You guys can't stay to fight and you're definitely not bringing anyone else."

"So we're supposed to let you go at it alone?" Fili demands.

"We're going to win anyway, so it's fine!" you exclaim.

"Alright, hush now!" Balin calls before you and Fili can get into it. "Lass, you should know that we don't abandon our kin."

"I know. But you're not abandoning anyone. I don't want you to come at all. I'm not above ordering you home."

Fili wrinkles his nose. "You've been around Thorin too long."

"And speaking of, don't you say a word to him!" you say severely. "He'll lose his mind if he knows."

"We can't keep it from him if he asks," Balin protests.

"Then I'll tell him. I'm writing to him before we leave anyway. And about leaving, if your business is done, you probably shouldn't linger."

Fili smiles wryly. "If that were anyone else, I'd be offended." He rises and hugs you tightly. "Be careful, Aniel. Come home."

"I will." And you're relatively confident in your promise...for the moment.