I am perfectly aware that I promised to put everyone in the story. Hermione will keep in touch with Luna a little, but not just yet. Most everything that happens from here on out that I deem important happens with Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Hermione, and Gandalf, except for little bits and pieces of actual scenes with Luna and Ginny. :)

- xHx

The group of five travelers rode across the hills. Hermione and Legolas still engaged in their competitions, but this time they forced Gimli to join them, for he rode behind Legolas. The Dwarf kept up his string of complaints about the speeds at which the two Elves raced, but they didn't really listen to what he said. Hermione felt like a little kid again. But, finally, they had to give it up. Arod and Cúron were too closely matched, especially when the mare took an opportunity to jump. She was very skilled at it. The group paused in sight of a city built on a hill with a wall surrounding the very bottom of it.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld," Gandalf said. The two Elves and their horses were beside the Wizard and Shadowfax, his steed, on either side; Aragorn was on Legolas's other side. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, she shook her head. "This place is shrouded in blue-black sorrow. Anger, red and hot, flows here like an underground river, kept just at bay by the sadness the people feel."

Gandalf nodded slightly, acknowledging her words, before he continued. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here." And they took off at a full gallop once more. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling they would be walking into a trap. While moving, she removed her wand from her belt and slid it down her boot. She didn't want it removed from her possession.

They rode at a slow trot up the hill. Hermione had her hood up, keeping her face hidden from view, but she was still very nervous. Every single woman they passed was dressed in a simple sort of thing, with a skirt sweeping the ground, and she was on horseback, wearing a rather short skort and leggings with a bow, quiver, and pair of knives on her back. Talk about embarrassing.

As they reached the highest point of the city and dismounted, her fingertips brushed over the mithril pendant she wore. She was more nervous than Ron face-to-face with Aragog. A place like this…who knew what they'd do to her?

The group ascended the stairs, as the doors blew open and a man with long, wiry red hair and beard walked out, his purpose obvious.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame," he said. "By order of Grima Wormtongue." They all glanced at the old Wizard. He nodded.

Hermione, with the faintest roll of her eyes, handed over her bow, knives, and quiver, completely ignoring her wand, shoved into her boot. It was most likely they wouldn't see it, either.

"Your staff," the man said directly to Gandalf.

Gandalf took a moment, as if trying to phrase something correctly, and finally said, "You would not part an old man from his walking stick." Hermione stifled a giggle. The term old did not apply to Gandalf whatsoever. Sure, he looked old, but he sure as hell never acted like it. But, the man assented to let him keep it. She suddenly felt nervous about this choice of Gandalf's, like they would most likely not succeed in their goal here.

Hermione walked between Aragorn and Gimli. Upon entry into the hall, she felt it was safe to toss back her hood, which she did. Several people gave her very strange looks, but she ignored it. She'd become accustomed to it.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," Gandalf announced. Hermione was a little too nervous about their current predicament. The king did not exactly look friendly, and neither did the man leaning against the arm of his throne. She took his position to mean that he was an advisor to the king, and his appearance was even less friendly than the king's. He reminded her of Peter Pettigrew, of Wormtail. She now walked between Gimli and Legolas, passing by some sort of a pit.

"Why should I welcome you," the king said, barely raising his head, "Gandalf Stormcrow?"

"A just question, my liege," the man in black said, standing up and walking down from beside the king's throne. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Láthspell I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent," Gandalf ordered. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." He put the end of his staff into the man's face.

"His staff," the man began to say, cowering away from the Wizard. "I told you to take the Wizard's staff!"

Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and Hermione found themselves assailed with men. Hermione found that fighting with just her hands was just as easy for her as the bow or her knives. Of course, she used her feet a lot more than her fists. Very agile, she was, kicking three men in the nose at full height within about ten seconds. Elbows were another advantage. She might be a woman, but she was proving to be a difficult opponent.

She did not listen to a word Gandalf said as he walked calmly through the fight. Ironically, it was fun.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf said. His attention was fully on the king. Hermione's fingers twitched. She wanted to yank out her wand and curse the idiotic man in all black into oblivion. "I release you from the spell."

The king laughed. It was a strange sort of sound. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey."

The Wizard threw off his cloak. The white robes glowed a bit. It was, admittedly, a bit disturbing. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

A minute passed. The king hit the back of the throne and then leaned forward. Hermione suddenly felt the room spin on its axis and collapsed. Only one person noticed this. Legolas. He caught her and eased her against a pillar, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, which danced behind her lids as if she were simply asleep.

Hermione stood in the same room as before. It was a little clearer, a little sharper than it had been the previous time. The Wizard, Saruman, stood near a podium, his hand raised over a misty black orb.

She drew near it, looking into it for a moment. She could see what the Wizard saw with his closed eyes, through the eyes of Théoden King. Gandalf dominated the vision, but she could see Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, and herself behind him. This had made her pass out.

The scene she watched continued to grow intense as Legolas made a sudden, inexplicable move toward the king. She couldn't hear a word that was said.

"If I go, Théoden dies," the Wizard said through the king.

"You did not kill me," Gandalf began, "you will not kill him."

"What of the pretty Elf-girl? What will you do if she does not wake?"

Legolas's eyes grew wide. He would threaten Hísiven? Without thinking, he took three swift steps toward the king, his hands clenched tightly into fists. It took him only a moment to regain his composure, but the moment seemed to stretch on forever. Slowly, he loosened his hands and relaxed.

"Rohan is mine."

Gandalf struck him with the top of his staff, upon the forehead.

Saruman flew back from the orb. Hermione followed him, studying the man who would try to execute her in this form.

"Do not think you are beyond my reach, Hísiven Rhovanel," he said. "I will kill you. What of your Prince of Mirkwood then? Do you think he will sit around and wait for your return from the war you are meant to fight?"

"I know he will, because he will know that I am truly part of this world," she replied, finally aware that he knew of her presence and relatively okay with it. She felt a faint pull upon her soul as she spoke and knew Gandalf was pulling her back. "You don't know what you're dealing with when it comes to me, so I wouldn't even try." It began to blur at the edges, the tower room, and she knew it was time to depart.

The first thing she was aware of was the warmth and strength of a man's arms around her. She muttered under her breath that she would be all right to just lie there forever, but that was not likely to happen. Finally, she opened her eyes. Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli, and a woman with blonde hair stood over her, which meant that Legolas was the one who held her in the hall, against the pillar. The man in black with the grease-covered hair was nowhere to be seen.

She laughed. "I missed an interesting scene, I'm guessing."

Aragorn laughed as well, kneeling down next to her. "It's good to see your eyes open, my friend."

"That it is, Aragorn," Gandalf added. None of them were interested in what she had seen. The woman helped her up slowly.

"What's your name?" Hermione said, halfway leaning on the woman.

"My name is Éowyn," she said softly. "And yours?"

"Hísiven," she replied. "You're a very pretty girl, you know that?"

Éowyn laughed. The sound sparkled. "Thank you, Hísiven, but I do not know how to take that compliment."

The two ladies began to talk. Éowyn reminded Hermione of Ginny, and being reminded of Ginny wasn't something she wanted. She hated not knowing the safety of her best friend.

"I saw how you liked waking up beside him," the blonde maiden said. The two sat in a small bedroom, Hermione wearing a borrowed skirt over her war-clothes. She had her bow, arrows, and knives back, and her wand was tucked into her belt once again. "There has to be something to that."

"It's possible," Hermione replied, dodging the question.

"You know I'll find out soon enough," Éowyn said.

"I know, but that doesn't mean I have to tell you right now."

"My Lady."

The two girls turned to the doorway and saw a tall man in armor standing there.

"What is it, Rigwyn?" Éowyn said, standing up now.

"You are needed in the main hall. Both of you are."

"Thank you."

The two started walking, Hermione with a hand on her belt, which proved unnecessary upon entering the main hall. Two young children, a boy and a girl, sat there. They had been given a bowl of soup each. Éowyn knelt to speak to the little girl, as Hermione sat down across from the children. The boy, Éothain, as he said his name was between spoonfuls of soup, was the elder, and he did not seem all that willing to talk. Freda, the girl, was willing, though she asked constantly for her mother. She seemed more willing to talk to Éowyn, though.

It took some time, but they finally got the story. The first vision Hermione had had into the tower at Isengard was a definitive fact.

"They had no warning," Éowyn said, standing. "They were unarmed. Now the Wild Men are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot, and tree."

Hermione turned on the bench to watch the woman. Legolas stood across the hall, his eyes locked on her, Aragorn was smoking from a pipe, and Gimli was eating and drinking. Of course.

"This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash," Gandalf told the king. "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. Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king," Aragorn added.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us." The king began to pace. "I know what it is 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."

Hermione shook her head, putting her elbows upon the table and letting her forehead thump against her palms. I wish you hadn't said that, Aragorn, she thought.

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

"Then what is the king's decision?"

Théoden was silent for a moment before he walked out of the room, leaving them all to wonder.