I don't normally do these kinds of notes, but because this is listed under anonymous I can't really reply via PM, so . . .

To Doyoudare: In this chapter, you will see some of Estel's reasons as to why she spends so much time with Éomer – and in turn, her reasons behind many of her actions. However . . . you will also see that Estel doesn't really hold herself firmly to the belief that the "past" can't be changed. Those views, of course, are up to interpretation as you wish. But there is one thing I want to make clear: As of this point, Estel does not have any feelings for Legolas. She isn't trying to run away from him or anything. After all, keep in mind that this is the first time Estel has ever gotten a crush on someone, so she doesn't really know how to act.

Okay, that's done with – read on!

Chapter Fifty

~ Legolas~
"The Beacons of Minas Tirith! The Beacons are lit!"

Everyone's head snapped up and all attention immediately focused on Aragorn, who had burst through the door and had started shouting. For some of the Men, the shouting was probably indiscernible; the echoes were quite strong in this hall. But with my Elven senses, I could hear every syllable.

And, of course, I could also hear that he had run from where he had been watching the beacon.

"Gondor calls for aid!" Aragorn finished, sliding to a halt right in from of Théoden.

There was a rustle of cloth, and I felt a hand touch my shoulder.

Estel.

"~What is going on?~" she whispered, her eyes wide. Her hair was blown-about and her face looked windswept. She was wearing riding clothes instead of her normal ones. All in all, I knew immediately why she did not know what the whole town must have known by now.

I glanced quickly across the hall – but no, Éomer was already here. Had been here.

So. She had gone riding alone.

Inside, some part of me whispered, Good.

"~The Beacons of Minas Tirith have been lit,~" I said as softly as possible, barely moving my lips and not looking at her.

A sense of grim satisfaction settled over her. "~So. Mithrandir succeeded. Excellent.~"

This time, I did look at her. She hadn't been the council meeting; she hadn't even been awake when the decision of what to do had been made. And no one had spoken of it afterward – to anyone. Mithrandir had simply left, acting strangely and without reason as he always did – or so it had appeared to everyone who didn't know.

Estel, apparently, had.

"~You knew all along?~" I asked.

Estel met my gaze squarely, a strange glance of wisdom in her young grey-blue eyes. "~It is the only way for Aragorn to meet his destiny,~" she replied simply.

I turned back to the standoff. Aragorn had a desperate yet proud look on his face. He wanted Rohan's help – he needed Rohan. And yet . . . And yet I knew, as well as everyone else knew, that if Théoden refused, Aragorn would ride to Gondor's aid alone anyways.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye – Eldarion, shifting closer to Aragorn from the shadows.

Or, perhaps, not alone, I amended. There was no way that Eldarion was going to abandon Aragorn – or Gondor. Eldarion had never stopped being loyal to Aragorn.

But that, perhaps, only made the future more unclear.

Aragorn would go to Minas Tirith. Eldarion would not leave Aragorn to face death alone. Nor would I or Gimli, for that matter. The only problem? No doubt Estel would follow us all, regardless of what we said or did.

And we would all die. And without a King on the throne of Gondor, hope would die for Middle-earth as well.

Now, more than ever, we needed Rohan's help.

Unfortunately, Théoden's face gave away nothing. All I could see was that he was confused. On one hand, his honor demanded that he help Aragorn, who had helped Rohan win a victory at Helm's Deep. On the other, his bitterness and resentment for the times when Gondor had not helped him had piled up over the years, and it was strong.

"~What will Théoden do?~" I murmured.

Estel sighed. "~With our interference . . . and so many things changed . . . I don't know,~" she confessed, worry in her tone. "~I can only hope.~"

Hope. She could only hope.

I shook my head with a sad smile. She knows what will happen already. It was obvious. And if it didn't happen, then she would do something to make sure it happened.

"~Hope,~" I repeated. "~It seems I must hope alongside you.~"

Finally, Théoden cleared his throat and his eyes seemed to come back to the present.

"And Rohan will answer," he said finally.

I sighed quietly in relief, but when I turned around to tease Estel about her worries, I found that she was gone.

~ Éomer ~
When I walked into the stable and found Estel there saddling a horse, to say I was taken aback was an understatement.

"What are you doing?" I asked immediately.

She didn't even blink. "Hello, Éomer."

I sighed in annoyance. Now was no time for her dancing around. "Estel, what are you doing?"

"Getting ready, obviously."

I crossed my arms. "Oh really? Getting ready for what?" When she didn't answer, I strode closer and realized that she wasn't just wearing sturdy riding clothes – she was dressed as she had in Helm's Deep. Well, except for the light chain mail. But she still carried her sword and bow and quiver, just as she had before.

When I spoke, I was surprised that my voice was steady. "Where are you planning to go?"

She tossed a small smile over her shoulder. "That depends on you, of course," she replied enigmatically.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm going with you. The King has you off gathering warriors, doesn't he?"

My mouth fell open. "You think this is some kind of joke?" I demanded. "Estel, this is a real battle, not a . . . a . . ."

"Helm's Deep was a battle too," she said tartly. "Besides, all the men you're gathering will need the women. Who else will cook and wash and care for when the wounded? Certainly not you and the rest of the men, and Aragorn cannot cover everyone."

For a moment, I found myself unable to form a response. She actually had a point. Not the greatest one, of course, but it was a point.

"Estel," I said finally. "This will be too dangerous."

She whirled around, her hands on her hips and a dangerous look in her eyes. "I'm coming whether you like it or not. Besides, I fought in Helm's Deep as well – if that is more dangerous than this, I don't see how!"

I sighed in irritation, but I already knew who was the victor and who was the loser. Estel was far too stubborn to give in now that her mind was so firmly made up. After all, despite all of their protests, she had fought in Helm's Deep. And the time after that, it had taken the combined arguments of Aragorn, Legolas, and Mithrandir to force her to remain behind when we had gone off to Isenguard, and it had been a very close shave even then. There was no way that my arguments alone would convince her to stay.

"Very well," I said with another sigh.

"Told you I would win," she said with a smirk, stroking her horse's nose affectionately.

"Yes, well, you're very stubborn." I glanced at her saddle packs and found them empty. Frowning, I said, "You had best put some things in there, you know, if you plan to go traipsing across Rohan with me."

A smile lit her face. "Give me a minute."

When she was gone, I swung up into the saddle and stared morosely out the door. As much as I secretly felt happy to have some time alone with Estel, I also knew that it would make things a bit more difficult. Whatever she said, Estel just wasn't used to the conditions of staying in the saddle for so long. And Rohan wasn't exactly like Minas Tirith; the land itself was dangerous, not just the creatures on it.

Ah well. I would just have to deal with it.

Besides, it would be nice to get to know Estel better. It would be easier to do it this way than to marry a half stranger.

~ Estel ~
"~And what do you think you are doing?~"

I started and whirled around, one hand deep in a saddle bag and the other holding a random assortment of clothes. Legolas was leaning against the doorway, his blue eyes surveying the mess and his arms crossed over his chest. His face was set in a disapproving frown.

"~Getting ready,~" I said, turning back to my packing.

"~For what?~"

I stopped. I didn't think he would be happy about what I had to say next. "~I'm going with Éomer.~"

There was a small silence. Then:

"~Are you out of your mind?~" he demanded, quiet anger in his tone. "~This is not the time for tagging along for adventure, Estel! Especially with him.~"

I swung around to face him. "~I know what kind of time this is, Legolas! I know what will happen, remember? And what is wrong with Éomer? You think he'll be like Boromir all over again? You think I can't handle it?~"

His eyes turned unreadable, but the anger remained on his face. "~Estel, how can you think that? You think I don't know your capabilities? You think I misjudge you because of your gender?~"

"~It seems like you are!~"

His hands tightened into fists, and I knew that he was struggling to hold on to self control. His eyes flashed. He seemed suddenly very dangerous.

But I was far too angry to pay too much attention to that. I was just . . . done with people trying to tell me what to do. I had traveled with the Fellowship and emerged unharmed. I had fought in Helm's Deep and done my best. I had faced Sauron. Perhaps it was the adrenaline speaking, but I needed to do something. Always, whenever things had happened, someone else had done something fore me.

No more of that.

"~Estel,~" he said calmly, or at least forcing himself to speak calmly, "~think about what you are doing before you do it. Don't be impulsive. That is all I ask.~"

"~I have thought about this. More than one. And for a long time. Whatever you say won't be enough to stop me.~"

He sighed, and it seemed that his anger drained away. "~Then,~" he said quietly, stepping forward and taking my hands within his, "~I guess that all I can say is what I have always said to you: be careful, Estel.~"

A funny feeling – warm and fluttery – ran through me when he clasped my hands and as his blue eyes stared into mine. It was like butterflies were fluttering gracefully in my stomach, and I felt at once like going weak at the knees and collapsing and at once like the tallest, most important person in the world. It was like the strangest mix of heat and cold, running through my veins and leaving the most unusual aftertaste behind.

But before I could reply, he dropped my hands and spun gracefully around and strode from the room.

And the feeling was gone, leaving me feeling at once exhilarated and let down.

My mother entered, one eyebrow raised. "~Estel, child, what is with all of this shouting?~" Before I could stammer an answer out, she continued, "~You and Legolas have always gotten along so well; what could be the cause for such disagreement between you two? I have not known an Elf to lose his temper like that before.~"

"~Mother, I . . . I'm just tired of people holding me back,~" I confessed finally. "~I want to get out there – I want to explore. Even after all of this time, even Legolas still treats me like I'm this delicate little girl.~"

My mother looked unimpressed. "~Have you ever considered that he acts thusly perhaps because he sees you as a person to be cherished, not because he believes you unable of not accomplishing your tasks?~" She paused. "~Come, my child, think. Legolas is a great deal older than you, and he has met many of our kindred. To suggest that he thinks you unable to act because you are a woman. . . Why would he think that after spending so much time with you? I think your mind is clouded on this issue, my child, and on many others.~"

"~Mother. . . How did you hear?~" I asked nervously.

"~All of it, of course.~"

I waited, but that was all she seemed inclined to say. "~You won't stop me from leaving with Éomer?~"

My mother sighed and shook her head in quiet amusement. "~You really think I would actually try? I know your temperament, little one.~" She reached out and touched my cheek. "~Go, then, if you think you must, and with my blessing.~"

"~Thanks, Mother,~" I said fervently.

She held up a hand. "~Do not thank me that way, child. Thank me by considering how clouded your mind is concerning Éomer and Legolas, and why. When you've figured it out, let me know.~"

I stared at her retreating back. Éomer? How does she know that he . . . "~How did you know that?~" I called after her.

She laughed over her shoulder. "~My dear child . . . I am your mother.~"

I sat with a frown on the bed. I knew I was confused about Éomer. I liked him, yes, but to go so far as to one day be his bride? That was a whole different story. Besides, from the history I had studied, I knew that he was supposed to wed Princess Lothíriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. Can history be changed? Should I change it? Should I wed Éomer and take her place? Or is that just a really bad idea?

I groaned. And it wasn't just Éomer my mother had mentioned – she had talked about Legolas too. But I had no idea why. Legolas was just like a big brother to me. I had no confusing feelings about him, none at all.

Well . . . except for that strange feeling when he had held my hands.

But that . . . that couldn't be anything. It was just strange, that was all. Legolas and I hadn't had much contact before – that was it.

An alarm bell began ringing violently, and I jumped. Like a madman, I seized what remaining things I needed, stuffed them into the bags, and ran down to the stables. Éomer was there, already on his horse, and shaking his head in exasperated amusement at me as I fumbled with the straps and clambered up.

"Very smooth, Estel," he said with a grin, taking up the reins.

"Oh, be quiet," I snapped back, but against my will I grinned back at him.

He rode forward into the yard, and as he did I heard him cry, "Now is the hour! Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken! Now, fulfill them all! To Lord and Land!"

And so begins our greatest battle, I thought.

Bet no one expected Estel to do that, huh? (To tell the truth, I didn't either.)