Dun dun duuuuuuuun! I'm so excited for you to read this chapter! And be sure to also read the note at the end! P.S. Yay for Aragorn's POV!

Rain was pouring down around her as Alarain huddled underneath the branches of a tree. Shivers would jolt through her now and again as the water soaked into her skin. Needless to say, the tree did little to shelter her from the storm.

She glanced up from time to time to check the moon's position in the sky, but always, she would frown in disappointment when she failed to find it through the dark clouds. Not knowing when morning would come was stressing. The woman could not sleep, and her eyes darted around constantly, watching for signs of danger. Yes, her other eye was open now, though just barely, and it still pained her to move it.

Days had passed, though she knew not how many, as she was much too busy with trying to stay alive to keep track. She had no food, so she had to make do with edible plants that she stumbled across once in a while. She had also lost her water, which had gone with Fayna. However, she stayed by the Anduin and drank from it when needed.

Her thoughts took her away and before she knew it, the downpour had stopped and the sun was shining through. The first thing she did was look for something to eat, which she soon found in the form of some nettles. Again, she had a quick drink and set off. Her leg was no longer troubling her, but she would still have to stop and rest often. After loosing so much blood, she was not as strong as she would normally have been in the present situation.

Time dragged on slowly as she walked, and she watched her feet in a trance. Left, right, left, right, left, right. It seemed as if it would never end. The constant sound of the water began to make her wish for silence and soon she retreated farther into the woods to get away from it.

Slumping down with her back to tree, Alarain rolled up her sleeve and studied the white scar. It was fading ever so slightly, and she smiled at the prospect of it disappearing altogether. The frown came back to her face though, when she realized that scars never went away. The white stain would probably fade, but the hand mark would always be there. Her newest scar would most likely never leave her as well, and she reached up to feel it, sadness washing over her at the thought. Pulling up the hood of her cloak, she hid her face for the rest of the afternoon.

Sitting alone in the darkening forest, Alarain began to long for conversation and the thought of Merry and Pippin came to her mind. They would be able to make her smile, even in the state she was in now. They would make her forget about her face, the mark on her arm, her headache, and Aragorn… No. Even they couldn't make her forget about him.

"Stop it, Alarain," she said to herself out loud, her voice sore from lack of speaking. "He has responsibilities that do not include you."

Are you sure about that?

"Yes," she growled to the voice in her head, getting slowly to her feet.

Are you sure you're not just running because you're afraid? Because you are scared of getting hurt?

Alarain shook her head, though a feeling of guilt still washed through her. "No. That's not it. He's…"

That is precisely it! You're afraid of him casting you out! You're afraid that he will not want you!

"NO!" she yelled, beginning to pace. "I'm not afraid. He is the heir to the throne of Gondor. He is a king! Have you ever heard of a king with a horse breeder as a queen?" The voice stayed quiet. "I didn't think so!"

Aragorn's POV

(A few days earlier)

It was already several days since his departure from Osgiliath, and Aragorn had changed into his ranger garb once again. He was riding back along the trail at a steady canter when Brego let out a loud whinny in greeting. He pulled the excited horse to a halt and glanced around, his eyes scanning the undergrowth for orcs. Brego was not afraid though, and took a step towards the bend in the path ahead as another horse came into view.

The newcomer watched them nervously, pacing, as if not sure if they were a threat or not. Aragorn frowned when noticing the saddle and bridle the horse still wore. Slipping carefully out of his saddle so as not to startle the poor thing, he looped Brego's reins over a branch and stepped towards it.

Letting out a scared snort, the horse flicked an ear as he spoke to it in a calm, low voice. He spoke in elvish, and soon, he got close enough to study the horse. It was a powerful, bright bay mare that looked curiously familiar.

"Amin sinta lle?" (Do I know you?) he asked gently. Suddenly his memory kicked in and he stared. He did know this horse! It was Fayna! "Manke naa Alarain?" (Where is Alarain?)

Fayna snorted again in response and lowered her head. Taking that as a sign that she would let him approach, he took a few more steps and she met him half way. Stroking her nose, he frowned at the rough condition she was in. She was sweaty, skinny, and breathing hard.

Before doing anything else, he led her to the side of the path and relieved her of her saddle and saddlebags. Then stepping to her head, he carefully took her bridle off, letting the bit fall slowly from her mouth. She chewed gratefully and immediately dropped her head to graze.

"Lle creoso," (You're welcome.) he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes as she flicked her tail at him.

Moving to the saddlebags, he crouched and shuffled through them. There was nothing except for a few rolls of bandages and an empty canteen. The ranger frowned again as he spotted another canteen. He lifted it to his nose and sniffed. Wine? Giving it a funny look, he dropped it back in and went to Brego's side.

"Don't worry, my friend," he said, giving him a pat. "Fayna will be fine here." Then he swung into the saddle and pointed the stallion in the direction in which the lone mare had just come.

The horse and rider moved throughout the night, only halting to search for signs of Alarain. Day came quickly and Aragorn ran a hand through his hair as he wondered if he would find anything. From what Merry had told him, Alarain and Fayna had headed west from the battlefield. Surely they would've come across the Anduin eventually, if they even got that far, and from there they were somehow separated.

Turning Brego west off the path, the ranger rode through the woods and within a short time, came across the river. Continuing north, he let Brego find his own route around the rocks and trees.

By midday, they came across an area where the trees thinned and the ground was covered in grass more than leaves. Aragorn narrowed his eyes at the ground and leaped off Brego when spotting something. He crouched and took a blade of grass in his fingers. It had been bitten off, as if an animal had eaten it. Perhaps a horse?

Running down to the shore, he desperately searched for clues, but the rain had washed away all hope of finding a footprint. Wait. There! Tucked away and almost hidden from view, Aragorn tugged out a bandage. It had blood on it.

"Alarain, where are you?" he whispered to himself.

Using basic logic, Aragorn soon figured that she had walked upriver from there. Otherwise, her only hope of crossing if she went south was Osgiliath. "Or Cair Andros," he muttered out loud. "And there she'd still be seen." So with that, he sprang onto Brego and set off north again.

It was evening when Aragorn began to give up hope. Suddenly though, luck smiled upon, for there on a branch farther from the shore was a strand of hair. He dismounted once more and dashed over. Sure enough, the hair was orange. Thanking his keen eyes, he tied Brego to the tree and slipped into the woods. That was when he heard a shout.

"NO!"

Alarain's POV

Still pacing and muttering to herself, Alarain was oblivious to the pair of gray-green eyes that followed her every move. In fact, she was so caught up in talking to herself that she didn't even notice when he emerged from the shadows and took a step towards her. Only when turning mid-pace, did she see him.

Their gazes locked for only a moment before she looked down, hiding her injured eye from his view. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a small, wavering voice as she backed away.

He did not answer at first, but only took another step closer. "Why?" he whispered, ignoring her question. "Why did you leave?" Alarain felt her heart begin to pound as she grew more and more nervous. "Why did you push me away?" he asked, hurt apparent in his voice as it rose beyond the normal level. "Do you know how terrified I was when Merry told me what had happened? I thought you were dead! With my duties to my people though, I could not just crawl off into the woods, though believe me when I say I wanted to!"

Guilt surged through her as she answered. "You do have a duty to your people, Aragorn. I understand that, and I understand that I cannot be beside you when you take the throne."

"What makes you think that you are not one of them?" he asked angrily, stepping right in front of her. "What makes you believe that I do not have the same duty to you?"

"I'm not one of them!" she said, almost looking up as she raised her own voice. "I come from Rohan!"

He scoffed. "Don't give me that. You may have grown up there, but you are no Rohirrim."

Carefully peeking up to his face, Alarain made sure that her eyes were still covered by shadow. "What do you mean?"

Aragorn took a deep breath to calm himself and held up his hands in a sign of peace as he took a step back. "On our journey to the Black Gates, I had some time to speak with Gandalf. I mentioned that you may be one of the Dunedain and..." He paused, his eyes moving to the ground.

"What?" Alarain whispered, barely breathing.

He moved closer once more and spoke. "He told me that he too, remembers a small girl from my village." His hand came up to play with a strand of hair that had fallen from under her hood. "One who had beautiful orange hair. He likened to it like a ray of sunshine in dark times. It was you, Alarain."

Alarain did not know what to say. She was one of the Dunedain? "If what you say is true, how do I not remember these things?"

"When our village was attacked, you saw terrible sights," Aragorn began, his hand falling back to his side. "Gandalf did not think it wise to let a child remember such things." He went silent for a moment before taking another long, slow breath. "He put a spell on you so you would forget, and he was the one who brought you to Rohan, where you would be safe."

Tears began to well up in her eyes as he spoke. Her whole past had been a lie. Rohan suddenly felt less like home, and more like a prison. "Why did he not tell me?" she asked in a whisper.

"I will never understand the reasons behind his actions, but he must have had some." He paused once again before speaking tentatively. "Alarain?"

"Yes?"

"He knows who your parents were." Alarain's gaze shot up and Aragorn's mouth fell open at the sight of her scarred eye. He stepped forward before she could stop him and pulled her hood down. "What happened?" he asked, worry and horror melting from his voice.

Alarain hit his hand away from her face and took a step away. "Who?" she asked, more forcefully this time.

"Please, may I not have a look at that first?" Alarain shook her head with a frown, her glare not moving from his until he began to speak again. After the small stare down, he continued. "Your father's name was Dirhaborn. He was one of the rangers under my fathers command, as was your mother. A woman ranger is nearly unheard of, and I suppose that's where you got your personality from." He smiled a sad, lopsided grin at that.

"What was her name?" she asked, voice still almost at the point of breaking.

"Elgarain," he answered gently.

"Did they…?"

Aragorn bowed his head. "I am afraid so. But know this; they died fighting for their people, and for you. There was much honour in their deaths." His voice had turned so calm and gentle that she almost ran right into his arms. Almost.

They stood in silence for a moment while the news sank in, and when it had, Alarain looked to the ground and closed her eyes as she tried not to cry. She felt Aragorn's presence come closer and backed away again. She still couldn't give in, no matter how much she wanted to. So what if she was a Dunedain? It didn't change a thing, did it?

"Alarain?" he whispered. "Please tell me something." When she didn't answer, he continued anyway. "Do you love me?" She glanced up to his eyes again and her stomach flipped. "If you do not feel that way any longer, I will not pursue you. But if you do, you will never be rid of me."

She hesitated in her answer just long enough that a hopeful little grin slowly formed on his scruffy face. Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to speak, but no matter how hard she tried, Alarain could not say it.

"Alarain, love is a promise, a promise to love someone through anything. Whether it be a small argument, or a war for your country, that promise is still there." Taking her hands gently with his, Aragorn met her gaze with all the love he could muster in his own. "Whether it is a promise from a farmer to a maiden, or a king to his queen, it is a promise that will never disappear. I made that promise to you a long time ago and I am not about to break it."

Glancing down to hide her astonishment at the words he had just said, Alarain looked curiously at his wrist. There it was, in the same spot it had been since Rivendell. The horse-hair bracelet. "It's still there…" she said slowly. "What made it not just fall apart?"

Aragorn stroked her hands tenderly with his thumbs and inched closer. "Love, perhaps?" Her eyes drifted back up to his face and her legs suddenly felt weak at the sight of his loving gaze. He let go of one of her hands to touch her cheek softly as his expression turned sad and confused. "Why did you run?"

"I… I was scared," she admitted, giving in to her inner voice.

Aragorn frowned. "Of what?"

Again, Alarain dropped her eyes in guilt and shame. "I was afraid that once you were the king, you wouldn't need me, or want me now that I look like this."

"Well then, you were rather foolish, weren't you?"

She looked back up to glare at him, but saw the sparkle in his eyes and couldn't help but smile at the teasing look on his face. Then, without wasting another moment, he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up, swinging her around in circles before setting her back down. Needless to say, her smile stayed.

The expression that suddenly came over his face was odd for her to see. It was not a weakness he showed regularly. He looked almost… nervous? However, after glancing into her eyes for merely a heartbeat, he seemed to calm. He smiled as he sank to the ground, and on one knee, he watched her with a twinkle in his eye.

"I don't have a ring for you, but…" Aragorn paused when a look of complete shock crossed her face. Alarain's heart suddenly filled with joy and her mouth fell open. All the feelings she had been holding in began leaking out in the form of tears as he flashed his smile up at her.

"Alarain, daughter of Elgarain, will you give me the honour of having your hand in marriage?" Not even pausing to think it over, she felt herself nodding, and no sooner than she had, Aragorn leaped to his feet and kissed her with all the love she felt in her own heart.

Note at the end: Just so you know, I do NOT own Dirhaborn and Elgarain! They belong to whoever thought them up for the fan film 'Born of Hope'. If anyone out there has seen it, you'll know that there was no way that Dirhaborn and Elgarain could have had a baby, but this is a fanfiction, so that doesn't really matter!

P.S. Don't be sad! I'm not done yet! (You can't get rid of me that easily!)