For three days they ran, stopping just long enough to catch their breath every once in a while. They had stopped to eat once on that first day, when Gimli found out that she carried lembas, but after running on a full stomach, he got sick, and that was the end of that idea.

Aragorn led the group at first, running far ahead of the elves, with the Dwarf some ways behind, taking up the rear.

"We shall make a chase, that will counted a marvel among the three kindreds," Aragorn had proclaimed.

The forested terrain fell away and in its place was left tall hills of rocks and yellowing grass. Dúvainiel came to the top of one of those hills, and found Aragorn laying on a rock with his ear to the ground.

"Their pace has quickened," he said. "They must have caught our scent." He stood up and shouted over his shoulder, "Hurry!" and then took off running again.

She heard Legolas call to Gimli, "Come on Gimli!" She turned to see just how far back he was, and briefly felt sorry for the bulky Dwarf.

As they kept running, the hills became mountainous and they ran along ridges. For a while, Legolas led the way, but as the mountain range seemed to end and the path they were taking became hilly again, Dúvainiel took the lead.

It was during her time in front that a piece of shiny metal caught her eye. She fell on her knees to the ground and picked it up. It was a leaf broach from one of the hobbit's cloaks!

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," she whispered. "Elessar!"

He ran up next to her and saw what she was holding. His eyes filled with hope.

"They may yet be alive," Legolas said, as he joined them.

Aragorn looked at the ground and took a few steps, "Less than a day ahead of us. Come!" He took off in a run, leading the way once again. Dúvainiel followed as she heard Legolas once again encouraging Gimli to move faster.

"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!"

His reply nearly made Dúvainiel laugh at loud. She might have, if she hadn't been running so hard.

"I am wasted on cross-country!" The Dwarf yelled, "We Dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!"

Up they went, and down, over each hill, gaining on the Uruk-Hai. Finally they came to the top of a ridge and Aragorn stopped and looked across the hilly, rocky plain. The Elves and Dwarf caught up to him. Dúvainiel knew Gimli would be able to catch his breath before they started again. She, too, looked across the plain and that dreaded feeling she got so often these days hit her hard.

"Rohan," Aragorn told them. "Home of the Horse Lords. There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."

Legolas moved down the ridge a ways, and looked out at the horizon.

"Legolas," Aragorn called from the top of the ridge, "what do your Elf-eyes see?"

"The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the Hobbits to Isengard!" Legolas responded.

"Saruman."

The name whispered by Aragorn sent shivers up her spine, and then the group was off and running again. They covered miles and miles of the rocky terrain. As they climbed a particularly steep hill, Dúvainiel heard Gimli panting behind her.

"Keep breathing," she heard him say to himself. "That's the key. Breathe."

This time she did feel genuinely sorry for him. She wished they could stop for just a few minutes to let him catch his breath. She said nothing, but just kept running.

Legolas broke the silence a short time later, saying what she thought everyone else must be thinking as well, "They've run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them."

In the next few hours of the monotonous running, Dúvainiel could not count on both hands the times she wished that she could be sitting in a tree patrolling the borders of Lothlorien. She had never in her life been so glad to be an Elf. She wondered how Gimli and Aragorn had the stamina and ability to run for so long without a thorough rest.

Night fell for the third time since the Halflings had been taken, and still the group ran, and still poor Gimli struggled to keep up. They ran through the moonlit night, and as the sun was giving off its first night, Legolas paused and looked in the direction of its rise.

"A red sun rises. Blood has been spilled this night," he said softly as Dúvainiel paused beside him and looked into his eyes. They ran a little further, when they all heard the thunder of hoof beats. Aragorn gestured them towards cover, and they waited and watched as a large group of horsemen rode past. Aragorn looked at the others, his expression contemplative, and then he decided. He stepped out and the others followed him.

"Riders of Rohan," he yelled. "What news from the Mark?"

Instantly upon hearing his voice, the entire group of horsemen turned and rode back, surrounding them and drawing their weapons, pointing them at what was left of the Fellowship. Aragorn held his hands up for them to see that he did not mean them any harm. Finally, one of them spoke.

"What business," he asked, "does a Man, two Elves, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?"

When they did not answer, he snapped at them. "Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli responded.

The man dismounted and walked towards Gimli, as the other men lowered their weapons. Gimli stood a little taller, as if up to any challenge the stranger gave him. Aragorn set a hand on Gimli's shoulder.

"I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

In the space of a second's time, Legolas had an arrow out of his quiver, drawn on his bow, pointed at then man who had made the threat to Gimli.

"You would die before your stroke fell," Legolas said confidently, ignoring the weapons of the men on horseback that had been pointed at their group once more. Aragorn reached over and pushed the bow and arrow down. Gimli and Dúvainiel both looked in shock at Legolas, Gimli with his mouth puckered in the shape of an "o".

He turned his attention back to the other man.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Gloin, Dúvainiel of Lothlorien and Legolas of the Woodland Realm."

Dúvainiel noticed that Legolas was giving the man an extremely hateful look.

"We are friends of Rohan," Aragorn continued, "and of Theoden, your king."

"Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," the man countered. "Not even, his own kin." He took his helmet off and the group surrounding them lowered their weapons once more.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands," the man explained. Legolas and Dúvainiel looked at each other at the mention of Saruman. "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished."

He then addressed each member of their group, making eye contact with each, starting with Aragorn, "The White Wizard is cunning."

He looked at Gimli, "He walks here and there, they say…"

To Legolas he said, "…as an old man hooded and cloaked."

Finally his eyes rested on Dúvainiel, "And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets."

Dúvainiel bristled at the insinuation. "We are no spies," she said vehemently.

"We track a party of Uruak-hai westward across the plain," Aragorn informed him. "They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed," the man replied. "We slaughtered them during the night."

Gimli cut in, "But there were two Hobbits. Did you see two Hobbits with them?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes," Aragorn mentioned.

"We left none alive," the man told them. Then he pointed in the direction that they had ridden from, "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

Dúvainiel looked between two horsemen and caught sight of the smoke rising in the horizon. She felt sick to her stomach. "Dead?" she whispered.

The man nodded his head. "I am sorry," he said sincerely.

Legolas put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

The man whistled. "Hasufel! Arod!" he called. Two horses stepped forward, a white one and a roan. The white one nuzzled Dúvainiel's cheek.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters," the man said. "Farewell."

He mounted his own white horse, then as if an afterthought looked down at the foursome, "Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands."

"We ride north!" he called, and then led the group of horsemen away.

For a few moments, they stood in a silence, each seeming to dread searching for the hobbits' bodies. Then Aragorn mounted the roan and held his hand out to Gimli. Legolas followed suit on the white horse, and Dúvainiel was hoisted up into the saddle with him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and as she rode, she scolded herself for the wholly inappropriate thoughts she was having at a time like this. She couldn't help herself though, as she laid her head against his back, his quiver resting in the crook of her neck. Even after all that running, he still smelled so good. Like sandalwood and fir. It was comforting. They galloped across the plain, and Dúvainiel felt some measure of peace in listening to Legolas' heartbeat as they rode.

They came to the pile, and suddenly the fragrance in the air changed drastically. Dúvainiel felt nauseated at the stench of the burning flesh. The four of them dismounted and looked around the pile for any clues that might lead them to the answer of where the hobbits were. It was Gimli that turned up the first clue.

"One of their wee belts," he said, pulling it from the smoldering pile. Dúvainiel sat on the grass and pulled her knees to her chest, afraid that if she started to cry, she might never stop. Those poor, innocent little Hobbits. She laid her head down on her knees and closed her eyes. Legolas quietly said a prayer. Aragorn wondered a few steps away, kicked a helmet and then screamed in frustration and anger. He fell to his knees. .

"We failed them," Gimli said solemnly.

Dúvainiel and Legolas had both heard him, but Aragorn didn't. His attention was on the ground.

"A Hobbit lay here," he said softly, then brushed his hand on the ground. "And the other." He sat back on his heels, and looked closer at the ground. "They crawled," he said, as he mimicked the movement. Dúvainiel picked her head up and watched him. "Their hands were bound," he said as he stood and followed the tracks. Dúvainiel stood as well, and she followed Aragorn next to Legolas and Gimli. Each of them now hanging on every word Aragorn was saying.

"Their bonds were cut," he said when he came across a rope. He kept walking in odd directions and patterns, "They ran over here… they were followed." Aragorn began to run. "The tracks lead away from the battle!" The group was now running, following Aragorn, until he stopped and said, "…into Fangorn Forest."

Dúvainiel and Legolas looked at each other.

"Fangorn?" Gimli whispered. "What madness drove them in there?"

After many long moments, the foursome entered the forest. Following the tracks that Aragorn could find, they made their way deeper in.

Gimli came upon a plant with a substance on it, which he tasted, promptly spit out and proclaimed, "Orc blood!"

Dúvainiel and Legolas were both sensitive to the trees in the forest and both remained silent as they looked at the trees.

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn commented.

"The air is so close in here," said the Dwarf.

"This forest is old," Legolas told him. "Very old. Full of memory."

"And anger," Dúvainiel added. Legolas nodded his agreement.

Just then, the forest seemed to groan. Alarmed, Gimli drew his ax and looked around.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas said. He, Dúvainiel, and Aragorn all turned to look at Gimli.

"Gimli!" Aragorn said urgently. "Lower your ax."

The Dwarf did as he was told and put a hand up in surrender.

"They have feelings, my friend," Legolas told him.

"The elves began it," Dúvainiel commented. "Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

Gimli looked at her in disbelief, "Talking trees. What do trees have to talk about? Hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

Dúvainiel was not a bit amused by Gimli's disrespect of the trees. It was a stark reminder of why Elves and Dwarves generally didn't get along. She sniffed disdainfully at him and turned away.

Legolas took a few steps deeper into the forest, Aragorn close behind, when he suddenly turned to the man and said, "Aragorn, nad no ennas! (Aragorn, something's out there!)"

Aragorn stood next to Legolas and whispered to him, "Man cenich? (What do you see?)"

Dúvainiel, too, could feel the presence. She couldn't put her finger on what it was though, but it didn't feel threatening, which was why Legolas' next comment surprised her.

"The White Wizard approaches."

Gimli and Dúvainiel now stood with Aragorn and Legolas, and Legolas jerked his head in the direction of the wizard.

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn whispered. "He will put a spell on us."

The four of them each pulled out a weapon, slowly. Legolas had notched an arrow in his bow while Gimli was ready with his ax. Aragorn had pulled out his sword, and Dúvainiel had pulled a dagger from her waist belt.

"We must be quick," Aragorn told them, and then the four of them turned in the direction of the wizard. A bright light blinded them, but it did not stop Legolas from shooting his bow or Gimli and Dúvainiel from throwing their weapons. Each offensive weapon bounced off the wizard's staff, as Aragorn's sword sizzled in his hands and he dropped it.

They each shielded their eyes from the bright light as the wizard began speaking to them.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits."

"Where are they?" Aragorn asked

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

It didn't comfort Dúvainiel, and she was prepared to say so, until Aragorn interrupted her.

"Who are you?" he asked. When he did not receive an answer, he demanded, "Show yourself!"

The light fell away, and Dúvainiel's eyes focused on the wizard's face. The instant she recognized him, she gasped and fell to her knee, her eyes dropped to the ground. She was shocked.

"It cannot be," she heard Aragorn say.

Beside her, Legolas also went to his knee. "Forgive me," he said. "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman," the wizard responded. Dúvainiel looked up at him, and she saw him look at her. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

Aragorn took a step forward. "But you fell," he said.

"Through fire," Gandalf replied, "and water." He made eye contact with Dúvainiel again, and her eyes became unfocused as he took her back on his journey with him. She felt herself fall, falling like there was no end. Felt the heat of the Balrog. Her hands blistered and she gasped in pain. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me." Dúvainiel felt the cold of the snow. She wished that she could close her eyes away from the wizard. "And I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and everyday was as long as a life-age of the earth." The stars swirled in her sight and she felt nauseous. "But it was not the end. I felt life in me again." She gasped here, as if life was entering her again as well. "I've been sent back until my task is done."

The wizard looked away from her, breaking the spell, and still feeling nauseous, she bent from her spot on the forest floor and retched. Legolas was immediately at her side.

"Gandalf." She heard Aragorn say.

"Gandalf?" the wizard asked. Dúvainiel dared to look up at him again. "Yes… that was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

Gandalf grinned as Aragorn nodded at him. Dúvainiel's stomach stopped churning and Legolas helped her to stand.

"I am Gandalf the White," the wizard told them. Dúvainiel smiled at this. Her wizard had returned to them. "And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

He reached his hands out to Dúvainiel, and she placed her finger tips in his. Instantly, the blisters disappeared. She looked into his face, and her eyes filled with tears of happiness.

"Gandalf!" she exclaimed happily, and threw herself into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her and held her comforting, as he would a child. Then patting her back, he whispered softly.

"We must go now."

She let go and backed away from him, as he pulled his cloak around his shoulders. Then he led them back through the forest.

As they walked, Aragorn told Gandalf of the journey since he had left them- how Dúvainiel came to join them, Boromir's death, and Frodo's leaving the Fellowship.

"One stage of your journey is over," Gandalf told them, "another begins. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli asked in disbelief. "That is no short distance!"

"We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the king," Aragorn commented.

"Yes, and it will not be easily cured." No one was really surprised that Gandalf knew of the king's infirmity.

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" Gimli said. "Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested..."

Dúvainiel gave Gimli a hateful look as the trees groaned once again. She shook her head at him. Dwarves would never understand the importance or the value of the life of the forests.

"I mean charming…" he amended, looking around at the forest around him. "Quite charming, forest."

Dúvainiel rolled her eyes. Gandalf turned and looked at Gimli. "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

Aragorn grinned at the wizard, "In one thing you have not changed my friend." Gandalf leaned towards Aragorn questioningly. "You still speak in riddles."

Gandalf and Aragorn both chuckled at Aragorn's assessment. Dúvainiel couldn't have agreed more, though she knew the wizard would never change. Nor would she want him to.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days," he told them. "The Ents are going to wake up." At this, Legolas and Dúvainiel looked at each other, astonished. "And find that they are strong."

Dúvainiel looked around at the forest trees and grinned.

"Strong?!" Came Gimli's skepticism. The trees groaned once more. "Oh," he changed his mind quickly as he looked at the trees, "that's good."

"So stop your fretting, Master Dwarf," Gandalf told him. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be."

Dúvainiel was not comforted at all by his comment. Merry and Pippin, she knew, were indeed safe, if that was Gandalf's word. It was the rest of them that she was concerned about. She shared a look with Legolas as the wizard stepped out of the forest.

"This new Gandalf's more grumpy than the old one," she heard Gimli comment under his breath.

They stepped out of the dark forest and into the sunlight. The horses grazed a short distance, and Aragorn walked over to them, and pulled them back to the group. Gandalf whistled, a high pitch at first, then a lower one. In the distance, they heard a neigh and each turned to see a pure white horse galloping towards them. As the animal got closer, Dúvainiel realized what the horse was. She reached over to Legolas and grasped him on his forearm.

"That is one of the Mearas," he said, "unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

The horse came to a stop in front of Gandalf, and the wizard reached out to touch him.

"Shadowfax," he said. "He's the lord of all horses and he's been my friend through many dangers."

The horse turned towards the Elves, and Dúvainiel smiled.

"Gandalf? May I approach him?" she asked.

"Yes, of course," he replied.

She stepped forward with her arm out stretched. The horse stepped towards her and met her halfway, placing his nose into the palm of her hand in acceptance. She bowed her head at him. He was so beautiful!

"Dúvainiel," she heard Legolas call to her. She turned and saw that he was already sitting on their horse, Aragorn and Gimli on theirs as well. Shadowfax took a step back as Gandalf prepared to mount, and Legolas held his hand out to Dúvainiel.

Once they were ready, Gandalf and Shadowfax led the way, and Dúvainiel felt her heart content to sit behind Legolas, drinking in his scent, knowing that the little Halflings were safe, and that Gandalf had come back to them. She felt relaxed and at peace, and ready for whatever fate held for them in Edoras.

They galloped across the plains for the rest of the day, until dusk settled upon them and Gandalf slowed Shadowfax and then stopped.

"We will make camp here tonight," the wizard told them.

Dúvainiel hopped down off the horse and stretched her legs. It had been a long time since she had spent so much time in a saddle. Legolas pulled the saddle off Arod, and the horse whinnied and trotted away to graze. She took her pack off and pulled out some lembas, passing it around to each of them. Gimli gave her appreciative look, despite what had happened the last time she handed him some.

Dúvainiel wished that there was a river or creek close by. Some place to bathe would be nice. Shadowfax snorted in her ear, and she turned and smiled at him, nuzzling his soft muzzle with her nose. Softly, she kissed the velvet nose. He nudged her shoulder and then turned from her, trotting a few steps away and then turned to look at her. Clearly, he wanted her to follow him, so she did.

He led her away from the camp site and into an area of trees, where they came across a small creek. She smiled at the horse and bowed her head to him.

"Shadowfax, rim hennaed! (Many thanks, Shadowfax!)," she called to the horse as he trotted back from the way they came. She undressed, and sat on a rock in the middle of the water. She washed her clothes first, and then hung them on a tree. While they were drying, she unplaited her hair and then laid on her back in the water. The water trickled over her ears and her hair moved back and forth with the movement. She sighed in contentment, as she felt the water wash away the dirt from her body. She opened her eyes and looked up at the trees. They seemed to be singing to her, as the branches and leaves carried the breeze, and she smiled.

By the time she got out of the water, the breeze had dried her clothes, and she put them on once more. She returned to the campsite, which was now quiet, but for Gimli's snoring. Legolas sat on a rock, watching her return.

"Feel better?" he asked her, noticing her wet hair.

"I do," she replied.

They looked at each other for a long moment. Dúvainiel swallowed.

"Would you like me to show you where the creek is?"

He nodded, and she led the way. When they arrived, he sat down on a rock and pulled off his boots. She turned to leave him in privacy, but he stood and grabbed her arm.

"Dúvainiel," he whispered.

She looked into his blue eyes, and her heart melted.

"Would you stay and keep me company?"

If he had asked her to step off a cliff with him, she knew she would not say no. He let go of her arm, and as he walked over to the creek, he pulled his top off. Dúvainiel blushed and turned her back to him.

"Uh… tell me about Mirkwood, Legolas," she said.

"It used to be called 'Greenwood'," he replied. "named by my grandfather, Oropher. He settled a group of Elves there, before the first War of the Ring. It was once a beautiful place, one of the most beautiful forests in Middle Earth. The trees there are ancient and tall- birch and fir mostly. The Elves lived there in peace until Sauron returned. He came in secret and built himself a stronghold at Amon Lanc, which is now known as the Hill of Black Magic. A shadow fell across the forest and has remained that way since. Evil creatures came, including giant spiders. My people were forced to abandon the Mountains of Mirkwood when they became infested with these creatures."

She turned to look at him, and saw him sitting in the water, facing away from her. She saw the muscles in his back flex and unflex as he washed his skin. She swallowed, and turned back around quickly.

"When this is all over, and Sauron is defeated, it is my greatest wish for the greatness of Greenwood to return."

She heard him stand and walk out of the creek.

"I would like to see that happen as well," she said softly.

His hand touched her shoulder and she turned to look at him. He had pulled his pants on, but he was carrying his shirt.

"My heart would sing, should you come to see my home."

She reached up and moved a lock of his wet hair behind his shoulder, and then set her hand on his bare skin. She smiled at him. He moved closer.

"Legolas!" They heard Aragorn call.

Dúvainiel jumped, startled by the interruption.

"Another time, perhaps," Legolas whispered to her. Then he stepped away, pulled his shirt over his head, and sprinted back to the campsite.

Dúvainiel stood and watched him, her heart was pounding and she had to make an effort to slow her heavy breathing.

Another time, indeed.

She returned to the campsite behind him.

Early the next morning, before the sun rose, she was up and ready to go again. How could anyone sleep through Gimli's snoring? She had already plaited her long brown hair, and packed her things back into her pack. She sat on a rock and watched the horses graze close by. She knew the males would be awake soon, and they didn't disappoint her. Within a short time, the horses were saddled, and they were riding again.

She had her arms wrapped tight around his waist as they rode. At one point, she felt him lay one of his forearms across hers, and he stroked her skin with his fingers. She smiled to herself. He moved his hand back to the reins, and she squeezed her arms a little tighter around him. Finally Edoras came into view, and the horses stopped. They looked at the hilltop city.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf told them. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

He nudged Shadowfax, and they continued up to the city. Gandalf led the way through the gates and up the road toward the Hall. The city was completely silent as they passed.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli commented. Dúvainiel silently agreed with him.

They stopped at the steps of the Hall, and dismounted. As a group, they climbed the stairs, but when they got to the top, they were stopped by guards.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue," one of them said.

Gandalf nodded, and turned to the others, signaling that they were to release their weapons to the guards. Legolas and Aragorn did so without hesitation, but Dúvainiel and Gimli were both reluctant. Of course, she carried some daggers in hidden places beneath her clothes, and she wasn't about to surrender them, but she did hand the guard her sword, bow and quiver, and the dagger from her waist belt.

"Your staff," the guard said to Gandalf.

Gandalf looked at the guard, complete innocence written all over his face, "Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

The guard knew exactly what Gandalf was doing, Dúvainiel could tell, but he let them enter the Hall anyways. Legolas walked alongside Gandalf, arm in arm as though supporting the wizard. Dúvainiel walked behind them, and Gimli and Aragorn followed in the back.

The guard led them into the Hall and bowed to the king sitting on the throne. Dúvainiel immediately felt the evil within the hall as soon as she entered it. She looked at the king, who looked frail and old. Beside the king, a man in black kneeled over and whispered in his ear. The doors were shut behind them, and all but Gandalf turned to look as they heard multiple locks being set.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," Gandalf said, as he walked towards the throne. The rest of the group followed behind, backing off just a little. From the corner of her eye, Dúvainiel noticed a group of men walking with them up the side of the Hall. Their expressions were menacing.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?" the frail king said.

"A just question my liege," Dúvainiel heard the man in black say. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." He stood from his place beside the king and walked towards Gandalf. "Lathspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent," Gandalf commanded. "Keep your forked tongue behind you teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"

Gandalf placed his staff in the man's face and instantly, the cocky expression the man had held disappeared.

"His staff," he said as he backed away from Gandalf. "I told you to take the wizard's staff."

The guards rushed towards Gandalf, and the rest of the group took action. Dúvainiel's palm slammed into one guard's nose, throwing him off his feet. A second guard came toward her and she reached back her arm to strike him, when Aragorn ran forward and punched the guard in the stomach. As quickly as it had started, it was over, and the guards were laid out on the floor. Gimli growled, and she looked over at him as he placed his foot on the chest of the man in black, who was now laying on the floor.

"I would stay still, if I were you."

Dúvainiel turned her attention to Gandalf, who addressed the king, "Hearken to me! I release you from the spell." His fingers gestured towards the king.

There was a moment of silence, and then the king began to laugh. Dúvainiel felt shivers run up her spine at the sound. It was a humorless and deadly laugh.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!"

Gandalf pulled the grey cloak off and revealed the blinding white that lay underneath. The king was thrown back against his seat.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound," Gandalf said as he pointed his staff in the direction of the king. From the side of the room, a woman rushed in and ran towards the king. Aragorn caught her and told her to wait.

The king's mouth opened, but a new voice was heard, "If I go. . . Théoden dies." Dúvainiel stiffened at the sound of Saruman's voice.

Gandalf jerked his staff towards the king again, "You did not kill me, you will not kill him!"

Saruman addressed Gandalf again, "Rohan is mine!"

One last time, Gandalf thrust his staff towards the king and the king was thrown back again. He moaned and the woman broke free from Aragorn and rushed to his side, grasping him as he leaned forward and nearly fell from the throne. Théoden looked up at the woman, and Dúvainiel watched, astonished as he face changed, and his eyes cleared. He looked much younger now.

"I know your face," he finally said to the woman. "Éowyn… Éowyn"

Éowyn looked at the king with tears in her eyes. Théoden turned his attention to his audience and seemed surprised to see Gandalf.

"Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again, my friend," Gandalf said to him.

Éowyn helped the king to stand. He looked around as Gandalf stepped back, and the Rohan citizens in the Hall bowed to their king.

"Dark have been my dreams of late," he said. He looked at his hands as though they were foreign. Dúvainiel noticed that they were trembling.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better if they grasped your sword," Gandalf suggested.

The guard who had led them into the hall brought the sword forth to his king, and Théoden reached out to grasp it. He drew the sword and gazed at the steel. Then he turned his attention to the traitor in his hall.

Gimli had a firm grip on the man, who trembled at the sight of his angry king.

"Háma, throw him out of my Hall," he ordered his guard.

Háma and another guard immediately obeyed and the group followed to watch as the man was carried out of the hall and thrown down the steps.

Dúvainiel stood at the top next to Éowyn and they watched as the man groveled to the king.

"I have only ever served you, my lord!"

Théoden descended the stairs, sword in hand, toward the man.

"Your leechcraft," the king said, "would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your side," the man continued to beg.

Théoden raised his sword over his head, about to strike, when Aragorn grabbed his arm.

"No my lord," he said. "Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Dúvainiel looked at Legolas, surprised by Aragorn's public questioning of the king's actions. Legolas shrugged. Aragorn reached a hand out to the man who was still on the ground. The man pulled himself up, and spit in the offered hand. Dúvainiel scrunched her nose. What a disgusting man! He turned and pushed his way through the crowd of people who had gathered and watched.

"Get out of my way!" He hollered at them.

It was silent for a moment, and someone called out to the citizens of Edoras, "Hail Théoden, King!"

The people who had gathered all went to their knees, the guards on the steps bowed their heads, and Aragorn knelt at the king's side. Dúvainiel bowed her head in respect.

The king turned and looked at the group who had followed him out of the hall.

"Where is Théodred? Where is my son?" he asked.

Éowyn left Dúvainiel's side and went down to the king. "My lord," she said softly. "He is dead."

"Dead? How? When?"

Éowyn grasped the king's arm, and they walked back up to the hall together. Dúvainiel looked at Gandalf, whose eyes were solemn.

Later that afternoon, Dúvainiel was escorted by Háma to Éowyn's chambers. Dúvainiel had asked to see Éowyn, to see if there was anything she could do to help. The woman's grief radiated off of her strongly. Éowyn sat on a window seat, her long blonde hair blowing from the breeze. She was, to Dúvainiel's surprise, alone. She wore a black dress with a grey collar imprinted with the horse symbol of Rohan.

"My lady," Dúvainiel called to her softly.

Éowyn turned from the window and looked at her. Dúvainiel could see that she had been crying.

"My name is Dúvainiel. I came to see if I could help you."

Éowyn nodded her head slowly. "I can't seem to get…" she stopped speaking when the anguish took over her and she began sobbing and Dúvainiel walked over to her and put her arms around her. She let the woman cry, and comforted her as best as she could. Finally, Éowyn sniffled and pulled herself away from the elleth. "My hair," she told Dúvainiel, handing over the circlet that had been sitting in her lap.

Dúvainiel moved behind the woman and placed the circlet on her head. She twisted the long hair into an intricate pattern, weaving it into and out of the circlet. When she finished, she stepped back to inspect her work. Éowyn was a beautiful woman, no doubt. She touched the woman's shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

"He was my cousin," Éowyn said to her. Dúvainiel was silent. Having not had much experience with death, she didn't know what to say to the grieving woman that would help. "Thank you," Éowyn reached up to feel her hair and then stood and crossed the room, where she pulled a black scarf from the wardrobe.

Dúvainiel bowed at her and returned to her room, where she changed from her tunic into the green dress she had brought. She was thankful that she had thought to bring it, although a death ceremony was the last place she had expected to wear it. She brushed the plait out of her hair and placed her own circlet on top. She left the room and headed to the hall to look for the rest of her group.

Gimli was the first to see her, and his mouth opened in a wide "O". She smiled softly.

"Lle naa vanima (You are beautiful)," Legolas whispered when he walked up to her. She blushed prettily. Legolas took her arm and led her to a table to sit and wait for the ceremony to begin.

Éowyn came into the hall and looked around. When she saw Dúvainiel, she walked over and asked the elleth to join her. Dúvainiel could not refuse. She nodded to Legolas, and followed Éowyn out the door and down the stairs. Together with the women of the court, she and Éowyn walked down the hill silently. Crowds gathered on each side of the path, all of them dressed in black, to pay honor and mourn their fallen prince. Dúvainiel looked back towards the hall and saw the guards carrying the body of the prince. There was so much pain.

The tomb was open and Éowyn stood to one side of it. Dúvainiel stood beside her and noticed that her hands were shaking. Women of the court stood around and behind them. Dúvainiel watched as the procession made its way down the hill. When the guards had brought the body to where it was in front of Éowyn, she began to sing.

Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended (An evil death has set forth the noble warrior)
giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende (A song shall sing sorrowing minstrels)
on Meduselde þæt he ma no wære (in Meduseld that he is no more)
his dryhtne dyrest and mæga deorost. (to his lord dearest and kinsmen most beloved.)
Bealo... (An evil death...)

She stopped singing as she began to sob. Dúvainiel turned to her and hugged her; her heart ached for the grieving woman. The body was in the tomb now, and the guards pulled the stone shut. The only sound that could be heard was the crying from many of the citizens of Edoras. People started to return to their homes, and Dúvainiel escorted Éowyn back up to the hall and then to Éowyn's room, where Éowyn thanked her and then said she wanted to be alone. Dúvainiel bowed and returned to her own room where she changed out of the dress and back into the tunic and leggings that she was much more comfortable in. She placed the dress and circlet back in her bag. Then she returned to the hall, where she had hoped to find Legolas, and indeed, found him there, standing behind Aragorn, as if guarding him.

Aragorn and Gimli were eating when she entered the hall and they both stood as she approached the table. She sat beside Aragorn's spot and Aragorn and Gimli sat once again. Legolas sat next to her, and when she looked at him, he had a thoroughly amused expression. He reached up and picked up a lock of her hair and wiggled it in front of her face. She had just left it down, instead of plaiting it again. She grinned at him when he let it go. Turning her attention to the table, she was pleasantly surprised to see a small plate of food set in front of her. It was nice to have a meal, even if it wasn't Elvish.

She finished eating, and stood to speak with Legolas, who had returned to his self-imposed position as Aragorn's guard. Aragorn seemed oblivious to his "guard", as he pulled out his pipe and lit it. Just then, the doors to the hall opened, and the king came in, followed by Gandalf, and Háma, who was carrying a young boy. A little girl walked beside them.

Éowyn came into the hall and saw the children. She gestured for Háma to bring the boy to her. He was awake, but very weak. The little girl did not leave the boy's side. Food was brought for the children and Éowyn helped feed them. The three of them spoke in low tones.

Éowyn turned to her uncle who was now sitting on the throne with his head in his hand, "Their villiage was attacked by Dunlanders. They had no warning. They were unarmed. Now the wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree." Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a look.

"Where's mama?" the little girl asked between bites.

"Shh," Éowyn responded as she put a blanket over the child's shoulders.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf told the king from the chair next to the throne. "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."

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

Gandalf looked curiously at Aragorn as the king stood and took a few steps around the hall and then addressed Aragorn's comment.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us." Gandalf stood and stepped towards the king. "I know what it is that you want of me," Théoden said, turning his attention back to Gandalf. "But I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

Dúvainiel watched the exchange interestedly.

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

Théoden took a couple steps towards Aragorn, the anger etched in his face now, "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan."

Dúvainiel bristled at his tone, but Aragorn did not respond. Gimli, who was still eating, took a drink and then belched. Dúvainiel looked at him in disgust.

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

Théoden was silent for a moment, and finally he turned and looked at Gandalf, "We will retreat to Helm's Deep."

Legolas gestured to Dúvainiel, and she followed him out of the hall. He led her to the stables, and they sat down together in an empty stall.

"What are we going to do?" Dúvainiel asked.

"Whatever Aragorn asks of us," Legolas replied.

Dúvainiel sighed. "We're going to Helm's Deep with them, aren't we?"

He nodded his head at her. Théoden's idea was not a good one. She could feel it in her soul.

"Me, too," he said.

She looked into his eyes, and he put his hand on cheek. Leaning over, he softly kissed her on the lips. She leaned into him, deepening the kiss. For a moment in time, there was no one else, no impending war, no Ring- only them. She pulled away, just enough to end the contact, and then leaned her forehead against his.

"Legolas," she whispered as she closed her eyes. She smelled his scent on his clothes and felt the comfort of his presence. She laid down in the soft bed of hay and he laid beside her. He kissed her again, softer than before, and then wrapped his arms around her. She smiled at him. They lay in each others' arms for some time, until they fell asleep, a peaceful sleep together that they would not have again for a while, each of them knew.

It was light out when she woke.

"Legolas," she nudged him. His eyes snapped open and he sat up. He pulled her up and they stood and looked at each other. He smiled at her and caressed her cheek once more, and then kissed her softly on the lips for what Dúvainiel felt would be the last time. He bowed his head to her and then left the stable.

A neigh caught her attention, and she looked at the back of the stable, where Shadowfax stood watching her.

"Shadowfax," she said happily and walked over to his stall. The white stallion pushed his soft nose into her hand, and she stroked his head for a moment and then stepped into the stall with him. She grabbed a brush that was hanging on the wall, and brushed him down, murmuring to him in low elvish tones, as the two of them listened to the sounds from outside. There was quite a bit of movement this morning. They were preparing to leave, Dúvainiel knew.

She looked up as the stable door opened and Gandalf and Aragorn walked in, followed by Legolas and Gimli.

"There is no way out of that ravine," she heard Gandalf say. "Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will but I fear for him." He stopped at the stall door and turned to Aragorn. "I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defences HAVE to hold."

"They will hold," Aragorn said confidently.

Gandalf turned to Shadowfax and put a hand on his mane, "The Grey Pilgrim... that's what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I've walked this earth and now I have no time." He walked around the front of the horse and then mounted him. "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."

"Noro go hûl, Shadowfax (Run with the wind, Shadowfax)," she whispered as she stepped away from the horse. She looked at Gandalf's face, but couldn't find it in her to say good-bye to him. He nodded. He understood.

"Go," Aragorn said, as he held the stall doors open. Gandalf nudged the stallion, and they galloped out of the stable and away from Edoras. Dúvainiel swallowed hard, then returned to the hall to collect her things and help the people prepare for the journey.

TBC