A/N : I probably don't need to say this for most people here but you are seeing this through Wendy's eyes... and what she sees isn't always going to be accurate. :) This is the problem... what we see in the world isn't always how it really is.

So that's teh last of the spoilers for now.

She also does swear- I agree she might do it a bit too much, which I'll try and write more reaction from the others, and it's one of her big faults.

Well, besides the fact that she's probably useless with a sword if there wasn't more skilled fighters around.

Still always welcoming constructive crit! :)

No one was around.

Not Gandalf. Not the hobbits. Not treebeard. No one.

I found my way out, though it took some time, slowly. Stumbling. It was daytime, apparently, but it was just as dark as it had been last night, and half the time I couldn't see where I was going. I knew that the forest was watching me. I felt it.

And when I got out, I found that it wasn't early morning after all, but well into the morning. Midday maybe. When I fumbled for the phone I remembered it had been thrown away with my leggings, and anyway, the charger had been in my pack.

I shut my eyes, standing there, legs bare, so exhausted and weary. Dried blood was caking my head, my scalp, down my neck, more blood on my legs, arms, it felt like every part of me was bruised or bleeding somehow. I tried to cheer myself up. At least I hadn't been ...I wasn't sure how I'd cope with that if I had been.

When I found the fire, it had been dead for some time, and there was no sign of Aragorn, Legolas or Gimli nearby. But they had been here. There were things strewn about and I saw Merry's burnt belt on the ground. The helmet was in the wrong spot. But how could I be sure it was? Things had changed. Hadn't they?

Well, one thing was certain, I had already missed them.

I shut my eyes, fear running through me, and tried to think. Okay. So. Okay.

They'd be heading for Rohan. I knew that. Shiny white horse. Gandalf. Then after Rohan, Helm's deep. The problem was that I had no fucking clue what direction either of these things were.

I stood there, legs shaking, some part of me wishing I could just ...collapse. Give up.

Instead I walked, slowly, legs weak, stumbling forward into the hot sunshine.

It took me some time before my dazed mind could really form any sort of plan, as the sun slowly dragged down the sky, the time dragging out, and it was by sheer will that I kept walking. I would find a village. Find a horse rider. Avoid orcs. I would ask for directions, help, and I'd ...give this Lothlorien pin. Surely that'd be worth some information? Some food, maybe?

A lot of food would be nice.

Food...

My stomach rumbled at that reminder, as I stumbled, shutting my eyes as I tried to ignore the sharp hunger pains that rose up at the reminder. And the longer I walked, the thirstier I felt, throat drying out. Why hadn't I stuffed some lembas into my pockets in the boat? That might have been a smart idea.

I grasped for my phone and stared at it, tugging it out, finding the battery already dead. Of course. My own face stared back at me in the glass, bruises on my cheeks and neck, encrusted with filth and with wide eyes I didn't recognise.

"Okay." I said to myself, trying to stand up straighter, trying to focus. "Okay. Wendy. Let's find some water."

This was a great idea! The landscape was dry though. As I stumbled across, across dry landscape, past tiny shrubs, I was almost tempted to try and eat something I found growing. Drink anything.

Luckily I found water, a small creek, just a little amount that was almost running dry along the river bank. I knelt there for some time, drinking as slowly as I could manage so I didn't vomit, and when I had drunk my fill I tried to wash myself of blood and filth, hands shaking as I cupped the warm water and dragged it over cuts, bruises, wounds, stripping off the filthy tunic. I felt bad, ruining such beautiful water, but the feeling I got when I dragged the clean damp clothing on was worth it. The sun was hot, the birds sang, and I no longer had dark ugly patches of orc or human blood on me.

I pictured the hobbits. Right now, sitting on a walking tree, and sat there on the short dry grass, trying to hold onto that image. But my mind had started to loose all I'd remembered, as if it was a dream, and it was difficult to draw back up. I saw massive elephants in my head, with the hobbits talking to a tree.

I wasn't sure what the connection was between the two moments. Maybe there wasn't one. Maybe my mind was mixing up 'memories' of the future.

And Boromir? I still felt hurt. But I blamed the ring. I didn't blame him. How could I blame him? I couldn't do it, I just couldn't accept it, that some part of him would ever do something like that. After all, I'd seen his mind slowly crack, and I had been told to call for Legolas the second we were alone. Was it my fault? Maybe slightly...

It didn't matter. If he was dead... I could only see the real side of Boromir, the good side, and the sheer idea that I'd never see him smile again, never hear him joke, or offer words of comfort, see the pride in his face when it came to his people, his city, his brother...

And if he was alive, what would happen?

But I could see him in my head with one of those fucking huge arrows in him, then with more arrows, and I wasn't so sure I had really changed anything at all. I paused as I started up the hill once more, sliding my own tunic down, a big knotted scab over reddened skin. Orc medicine had healed it but it was still tender and very huge.

I breathed out, shut my eyes, and tried to let it go. I couldn't do anything for him by worrying and I had a town to reach. Erm, city. Something like that.

Once I had filled my stomach with water, I trudged back up the hill again, slow and determined. This land was cool, a cold wind ran across me more often than I liked, but the sun was hot and it dried my clothing and hair. It was amazing how being clean somehow helped energy levels, because as dazed as I was, I felt like I could really move now.

I saw a slope and headed for it. Deja vu? Good sign. Slope? I wanted to groan. Not another one. This place was all uphill. Halfway up it I glanced back, at the fields, the plains that stretched out, and some distance beyond... Fangorn Forest.

"Wow. Wendy, look how far you walked." I said to myself. I smiled weakly at that. Oh fuck. I was talking to myself. "Wendy... stop talking to yourself. They'll think you've lost your mind. They? I don't know who they are... oh, just stop it."

Then I saw them. I shut my eyes, knees going weak with relief, and started down the hill towards the three horses. Good old Deja vu. Saved me every time. Gandalf's horse seemed to speed up.

Gandalf seemed to be pretty much expecting me. He was the first to reach me on the white horse, dismounting, striding over with the staff in hand.

"Wow, look at you." I said weakly, smiling. "All shiny."

"Shiny?"

I hesitated, figured that I didn't care how much of a big special wizard he'd become, and flung my arms around him suddenly, just glad to see him. I really was! "Gandalf, welcome back."

The other two horses caught up at that point, Legolas and Aragorn jumping down, but I was busy hugging a stiff Gandalf. He stood there for a moment, stiff, then I felt him relax and he chuckled against my ear, his arms coming around me.

"Thank you, Wenduin."

"How was the Balrog killing?"

Gandalf leaned back, hands on my shoulders, staring at me with an unreadable expression. Then he glanced over my shoulders and smiled again, warmth returning, nodding slowly. "It was ...exhausting."

I turned around to find myself engulfed in Gimli, who took a few minutes to notice that I wasn't wearing any pants, surprising given how short he was. Legolas had a trace of a smile there.

"I was worried for you, lass. Where's... your leggings?" Gimli trailed off, as I tugged the tunic down, face red.

Somehow Aragorn and Legolas had failed to notice this too. I flushed, embarrassed, but it was the look on Legolas' face that really got under my skin. He thought I had been raped. So did Aragorn. I didn't blame them- my legs were torn up.

"It's not as bad as it looks..." I muttered, tugging my cloak around, the men's eyes diverting quickly. "They were ruined and they just ... they weren't allowed to do more than harass us a little. Alive and unspoiled."

"They did not harm you or the hobbits?" Aragorn said softly, his hand coming to rest on my arm, and I felt relief flood me.

"God, I missed you guys."

"Did they?" Legolas cut in, sharply, staring at the ruined skin. When I shook my head, he sighed, shutting his eyes a moment.

"Unless you count no food for three days, verbal abuse, and their terrible smell, no." I blinked. Boromir? Where was he? I shook my head and shut my eyes a moment. Suddenly, I was tired. Exhausted. I was just about ready to give this quest thing the quits. I felt my legs threaten to go once more. My knees actually gave way, to my embarrassment, and Aragorn's hand tightened on my shoulder.

"Wenduin..." Aragorn knelt beside me, drawing me to my feet, glancing down. "Here. Dress, and sit behind me. You can rest soon. You have endured more than many could." Aragorn reached for his pack, quickly, though it seemed a hell of a lot lighter than I'd last seen it. Leggings? Probably his only spare.

I wasn't complaining. I pulled them on under the cloak, slowly, and realised that... they were mine. My spare. From my pack. They must have ...hoped they'd find me alive. Emotion welled, as I was led back to the horse, Legolas with his arm firmly around my waist.

"Ride with me, Wenduin." Aragorn held out his hand, helping me onto the horse behind him, and I leaned against his back. Something was pressed into my hand. Lembas. Legolas smiled, a weak smile, emotion dancing across his face for a second before he hid it.

"Can you sleep there?"

"I've done enough sleeping." I replied, trying to eat, the crumbly stuff washed down with water from Aragorn.

Aragorn nodded, met Gandalf's eyes, and we moved away at a fast gallop.

They had chased us for three days and nights. "What about you? You're all tired too, aren't you?"

"We will rest for the night soon. I think a hot fire and a night's sleep is long earned." Gandalf called, meeting my eyes, and there was that twinkle of amusement there. I smiled weakly and nodded.

I was startled awake by the slowing of the horses, apparently having fallen asleep after all, and Aragorn jumped down, helping me down. Somehow the energy had started to return to my body, my legs holding me up better, and when I ate more lembas and felt more energy return, I was sure it was the elf bread. Magical elf bread.

"I will gather wood." Gimli reached out to touch my arm, hesitated, and then threw his arms around me, hugging me once more.

"I should-"

"No, lass. Sit down."

"You can tell me of what has happened over the past three days." Gandalf suggested softly, sitting beside me on the ground, his white staff with that warm glow I used to love.

"There isn't much I really remember..." I stared around, distracted, grief flooding me. Boromir wasn't here. Now I really knew what I'd wanted. Screw 'important deaths'. That man was important to Gondor. He was a friend. A friend I'd maybe never forgive about that, sure, but ...

"Wenduin?"

"Well, I had hit my head, so I slept a lot." I explained quietly. "They ran for a long time, made us drink medicine, and almost ate us at Fangorn forest."

Legolas flinched, moving past me, dropping wood down onto the ground. 'A'maelamin..."

Somehow that word made me want to vanish into the darkness with Legolas and ...just hold him. Be held. I gritted my teeth softly. No point in being weak now. I had to get stronger again. This wasn't over by a long shot. "The men on horses saved Pippin's life. Our lives. But I lost them in the forest."

"They are now safe." Gandalf squeezed my arm.

"I know." I met his eyes. "I ... hit my head. I remembered a lot. But it's hard to hang onto, like a dream, it slips in and out of my head. I'm not even sure what I'm remembering and what's ..."

"Of your own life?" Gandalf probably knew what I was getting at.

"No." I shrugged helplessly. "Not that. I saw ...other things. Things I think Saruman wanted to know. To stop us."

Gandalf nodded slowly. I felt Legolas and Aragorn's gaze on me, Gimli in the forest, and shifted on the ground slowly, uncomfortable with the attention. "I don't know what's real and what's not though, or what order it comes in, it's a confusing mess."

"But you remember something. Maybe the rest will come in time." Gandalf's voice was reassuring and I breathed out slowly as he stood up. "Now, sit, and grow strong. Real sleep will heal you."

I nodded, flopping down, too tired to be of help. Too tired to care about being helpless. When I opened my eyes, there was a fire, and there was a warm body sitting behind me. Legolas was pressing something against the cuts, my tunic peeled back, his fingers grazing over each wound that I'd gotten.

I yawned, twisting onto my back, staring up at him in the darkness. Gimli was snoring. Aragorn and Gandalf stood, some distance away on the edge of the hill. We were alone.

"How are you feeling?" I muttered, reaching up, stroking his face slowly. His face. I liked it. I ran my thumb across it, fingers grazing his ears, and Legolas shuddered over me, pleasure flooding his face. Ooh. So the Elf liked it when I touched him there.

"I should ask you that." Legolas kissed my palm, reaching up to grasp it in his hand, pressing his forehead to it. For a moment, he let his own guard down, let the vulnerable 'worried lover' side show. He looked exhausted, stressed, even upset, and his eyes burnt with that intense affection.

"I feel good." It was true. I felt good now. Aching, sure, but... I breathed out, shut my eyes, and a smile traced my lips. "I missed you. Have a good run? When do you rest?"

"I will rest soon." Legolas reassured me, reaching down to stroke my face, a faint smile appearing through the exhaustion. "Here."

He offered me lembas. I yawned and sat up slowly.

Then I remembered. Boromir was dead. Dead. Dead... I swallowed, tense, shutting my eyes. Oh fuck.

"Boromir is grievously injured, Wenduin." Legolas' words exploded in my chest, relief. "The Lady Galadriel sent Haldir for him. They had his horn and his ruined clothing sent over the waterfall with the arrows. A funeral for a man that would probably die but... may not die." He stared up, suddenly, eyes growing distant. "But when we speak of him we must always speak of him as if he has died."

She did? Then, did she know? "How did she know? Is he dying?"

"He is living yet, and may live for many years more, for my people have healing that no other race posses. But to the world, Boromir of Gondor is dead, and will remain dead as long as the Lady Galadriel needs him to be."

So Boromir was alive? Relief flooded me and I smiled weakly. Oh thank fucking god. Or something. And she'd known. How had she known? But then, I shouldn't have asked. Magic elf visions or something. I hoped I'd see her again to thank her.

The Lady of Light knows many things..." Legolas replied, shifting closer, lips teasing mine with a chase kiss. I shuddered, grasped his head, and pulled him for a better one, one I could taste, feel, remember. When we parted, his face was flushed, and his smile had increased. But it faded as he stared at me. "You should rest."

I should rest? I grasped his head again, hands gently cupping it, shifting closer, kissing him hard. He was right. This stuff was really good at curing stress.

Legolas gently pushed me back, staring at me. "I feared... Boromir said you had been..."

"Shot?"

Legolas nodded, reaching up to touch my shoulder where he must have found the still tender wound, frowning. "He believed you were dead."

"You too?"

He nodded, the haunted look in his face a moment, and then blinked, reaching quickly for his pocket. "Yes. But ... the hobbits. I feared for them. I could not grieve. Then I found this."

This? Legolas held it out, the silver-green leaf glinting in the firelight, his fingers trembling around it. He offered it, holding it up, and I lowered my head, letting him slip it around my neck.

I reached up, touching his face, our foreheads connecting as we both sighed out softly. Legolas murmured things against my lips, Elvish, things that made my chest expand with warmth, with affection, even with love... and I kissed him, over and over, hands stroking his face.

Aragorn flopped down close.

"Sleep, both of you. Gandalf is keeping watch." He shifted back, shutting his eyes. "There is time for that later."

Legolas laughed softly, a rare sound, as I quickly separated from him. I lay back down, Legolas resting close by, and slipped into an easy relaxed sleep.

By the time morning had come, I felt incredible, there was no other word for it. Compared to the last few days? It was like being reborn, though I'd really had no experience with that, like I'd just ...shed the wounds and grown new skin. My wounds were already healing, pain fading, and the comfort of friends and my lover was more than enough to spur me onto the horse's back behind Aragorn once more. Rohan! Action! Let's go!

"You must be feeling better." Aragorn commented, over his shoulder to me, smiling as he lifted the reins in one hand.

We rode for some time, up the slopes, my bum aching, but I refused to care. Why should I care? I held onto Aragorn, gazing around, knees hanging onto the horses' warm flank.

As we came over a slope, we finally saw what I had been waiting for. Gandalf called, " Edoras, and the Golden Hall of Meduseld. There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is over thrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong." He ran his eyes over us. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

Fair enough. I really didn't expect to find welcome here.

We rode hard, up the slope, for the city on the hill, and slowed as we entered the city. People stared at us, pale faces, drawn faces, people stressed, scared and afraid. Even of me, I realised, even though I was clearly a woman.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli muttered, as he stared around, and I had to agree.

We rode up as far as we could, and when we reached the stairs, we dismounted and headed up where guards waited for us.

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Grayhame by order of Grima Wormtongue." The man looked kind of apologetic about it, about as enthusiastic about the order as he would eating a worm, but he waited, and Gandalf met our eyes.

I didn't have a weapon. Whatever had happened to sword... it was gone now. But the others did, and I watched, as they offered all their weapons.

"Your staff." The man glanced at it.

"Oh, no. You would not part an old man from his walking stick?" Gandalf was doing a pretty good job of 'feeble old man'. Legolas and I met eyes over his head, and I moved to stand beside him, Legolas taking his free arm. He 'helped' him inside as we were led to the King.

Grima. I stared at him, as we made our way slowly down the hall, this creepy man sitting on the arm of the King. Not just that though. Around us, men were following, men that gave me the creeps, their eyes boring into us.

They were waiting to attack. I tried to ignore them.

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late Théoden King." Gandalf's voice, feeble just moments earlier, seemed to boom around the hall. I gazed around it, at the incredible carvings, making a mental note to really look later.

"Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

My eyes fell ahead to where a feeble old man sat, bent on a throne, a dark haired man with sallow skin sitting almost on his arm. Grima. The King Theodan.

"A just question my liege. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lots spell I name him, ill news is an ill guest." Grima had stood, ignoring us, his eyes fixed on Gandalf alone. Fine by me. I just looked at the man and wanted to bathe...

Gandalf snapped, " Be silent. Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed

through fire and death to bandy crude words with a witless worm." He shoved the staff in Grima's face, who recoiled as if burn.

"His staff. I told you to take the wizards staff!"

The men rushed for us, and I was shoved to Gandalf's back, as the men did the punching. I narrowed my eyes as one rushes for me, clearly hoping I'd be easy pray, and I slammed my knee into his groin. Worked great. He went down with a groan, Aragorn snorting softly, as Gandalf advanced on the king.

"Théoden son of Thengel. Too long have you sat in the shadows. "

"I would stay still if I were you." I spun around to see Gimli, foot on Grima's throat, axe over his head. Good old Gimli.

"Harken to me. I release you from this spell." Gandalf paused, going quiet, waiting...

It wouldn't work. I knew it. We watched as Theoden laughed, this creepy dry laugh, that echoed around the hall, sending chills up my spine. It was Saruman. I knew that. And I felt afraid, suddenly, because I knew he was looking for me too. I shifted to the side, out of his line of vision, Legolas glancing at me.

"Hahahahaahaha. Hahahahahahah. You have no power here Gandalf the Grey."

Gandalf flung his grey cloak off, light pouring off him, and Theoden screamed as if burnt. Gandalf advanced on him. "I will draw you Saruman as poison is drawn from a wound."

He slammed against his throne, someone in white rushing past me, Aragorn grabbing her. Eowyn.

"Wait." Aragorn said softly. She stared at him like he was crazy.

"If I go, Théoden dies." 'Saruman' growled. For a second I believed it, Theodan's body was taunt on the throne, his face drained of blood, as if he was seconds from having a heart attack.

"You could not kill me, you will not kill him." Gandalf clearly thought otherwise, his voice rising, staff at Theodan's taunt body.

" Rohan is mine." The words, growled, from the lips of a man I was sure was about to ...

"Be gone." Gandalf almost stabbed his staff into the King, shoving him back.

Eowyn slipped out of Aragorn's grasp and ran for him, as Theodan almost fell forward, holding him up.

And them, suddenly, he was ...growing younger. White hair faded, white eyes faded, hair grew shorter somehow, blue eyes and skin flushed with life. With warmth. An older man, in his forties or fifties, but a healthy man. I gawked openly at it. This was magic. This was seriously magic and I'd just seen it happen.

"I know your face. Éowyn. Éowyn." Theodan stared up to Gandalf, disbelief on his face, blinking slowly. Eowyn stared back at us as well, her face white, dampness glistening in the dark hall. Theodan breathed, "Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again my friend." Gandalf was relaxing, leaning once more on his staff, his back to us.

The doors opened behind us, I glanced back, people coming in. Guards. His own people. There were people crowding in, witnessing this miracle, their King coming back to life. Slowly, he stood, as weary as an old man, but his body was gaining strength, his spine straightening, his complexion healthy once more.

He stared ahead, as if he was seeing something beyond us, saying softly, "Dark have been my dreams of late." Theodan stared at his hands, as if he had only just seen them, his fingers trembling.

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

As soon as Gandalf had suggested it, a guard stepped forward, holding it out.

Theodan grasped it, slowly pulling it out, his arm shaking with the effort. Slowly, at first, but energy returned to his arm. To his body. And he held it up, staring at it, his arm becoming steady, his gaze finally becoming focused.

Then he looked at Grima, at us, at his people crowding his hall. Yep. Theodan was back. And he was pissed off.

He charged, suddenly, grabbing Grima by the collar, dragging him with strength that would have been impossible, throwing him bodily at the guards.

"Take him outside." He growled, voice raised, and they dragged out, Theodan going after them.

We hurried after them, pushing through the crowd, Grima cowering at Theodan's feet.

"I've only ever served you my lord."

As Grima pleaded, Theodan moved slowly down the stairs, every step heavy, his eyes fixed on Grima, sword still tight in his hand.

Yeah, him and Saruman.

"Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast." Theodan's voice rung out, a growl that echoed, bringing more to the steps to his hall, as Grima crawled backwards on his behind. Gandalf was close behind.

"Send me not from your sight."

Worst choice of words. Aragorn ran, suddenly, past us as Theodan raised his sword, ready to smash him to pieces right then and there.

Or he would have, if Aragorn hadn't grabbed his arm, and saved Grima's life. "No, my lord. No my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

I didn't see it but... I knew what had happened. Grima spat at Aragorn, and charged down the steps, shouting, "Get out of my way!" He'd head straight for Saruman, of course. Where else?

"Hail Théoden King!" A voice rang out, echoing in the wind, and slowly everyone started to kneel. I did too, before I realised neither Legolas, Gimli or Eowyn was, but I was already down, and ... Aragorn was kneeling.

Theodan didn't seem to see us. He stared ahead, suddenly, his face clouding over. I didn't hear his words but ... I knew what he'd just realised.

His son wasn't here.

I stood slowly, Eowyn turning to move down to her uncle's side, and finally she saw me. Our eyes met and her mouth opened, faint surprise on her face, really seeing me properly. A woman.

"You're injured." She said softly, staring at me. "You came with Gandalf. Are you one of our people?"

I suddenly got what she assumed. Eowyn thought I'd been attacked and they'd offered me clothing. I had no swords, no weapons, and I had bruises fading all over my face, so ...But before I could answer, Theodan was moving past, his footsteps heavy once more.

He knew his son was dead. And Eowyn stared sideways, to one of the older women, ordering quickly, "Get this woman clothing and food, I will talk with her later," before she was hurrying after Theodan, past us, before I could correct her.

I suddenly didn't want to go. Here, I was just a woman, and here, I was weak. Fuck that. Hadn't I already done some good kick ass stuff? The idea of putting on a dress around Elves wasn't so bad- they at least knew I wasn't totally helpless, that I was with this Fellowship. But here?

Legolas reached out to touch my arm, a contact that he concealed, and he said softly, "We all will need food and water now."

The woman glanced up at him, this elf, open awe at what she was staring at. Then the dwarf. She nodded, her mouth slightly open, "Ye... yes, My ...lord. Elf. Yes. Of course. But my Lady should-"

"We need to talk first." Aragorn called , coming up the stairs and around to us, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Would you wait for her inside?"

She nodded, flustered, and headed inside. Gandalf joined us briefly, his face clouded now. "Theodan will be burying Théodred before the sun has fallen. Preparations are starting. Hama will provide us with water to bathe and food. The Lady Eowyn has already offered help for you?" He met my eyes and I nodded. Gandalf smiled sadly, reaching out, squeezing my hand. "Then let us meet in an hour. Your role is not forgotten. Do not fear that we'll forget you here."

I smiled weakly and nodded. He opened his arm to the door, gesturing to me, and I went inside.

The Lady showed me a small room, pouring heated water for me into a basin, as shameless bout my body as the Elves had been. She was, however, much more open with her gawking, staring at the various wounds that were knitting and healing in my flesh.

"Were you attacked, M'lady?"

"Yeah." I reached out for the water. The wind cut into the hall now, the sun was gone, and it was getting cold. "It's cold, isn't it?"

"When this wind blows, M'lady, it is cold. Soon, it will snow." She was taking my clothing and I reached out for it, to her surprise, as she headed for a fire. "Do you want to keep these?"

"Well, um. They were a gift. I'd like to."

Surprise was obvious on her face. Why would a woman want to keep 'men's clothing'? I smiled weakly and tried to make something up. "I mean, they were my brother's, so..."

"Of course." Understanding dawned on her face, suddenly, and she folded them up carefully. "We do not waste cloth either. I will have it repaired for you. One day, your son may wear it, and you can tell him of his uncle."

I smiled weakly, nodding, deciding I couldn't be bothered arguing about this. While she was gone I bathed hurriedly, the warm water cooling, soaping my skin, getting the last of the grime and smell off it. When she returned, she had a black dress, and I sighed. Okay. Deal with it. I was in her land and this was what women wore.

"Your brother waits for you." She informed me, as she helped me into a under dress, lacing up the back. I had expected a plain thing, really, but ...it was silk. I gawked at it. My brother? Who said they were my brother?

"He does?"

She nodded, pulling the black silk and wool over my head, the heavy dress weighing me down. I watched as she tied the sleeves on, the back, and grasped my hair, twisting it back, some kind of thing over my forehead. The woman hesitated, as she stared at the leaf necklace, touching it softly. "This is very beautiful."

"It was a gift." I smiled weakly, self-concious, and slipped it down the front of the dress. "Not appropriate for this though."

"For you, it would be." She responded softly, reaching up to do up the dress so that it covered my throat, tying a small bow. She seemed to remember herself. "But you are being waited for. Here are the shoes."

I let her pull them on, small soft things that wouldn't last an hour where we'd walked, and then followed her out to meet my 'brother'.

Aragorn nodded, a smile on his face, reaching out to take my hand. "Sister." I blinked at him, as he drew me near, whispering, "So that you may stay close to us. The truth is harder for the men of this land to believe. You will wait beside Eowyn."

Okay, sure, whatever. I smiled weakly, letting him loop his arm through mine, Legolas glancing up from outside. He flashed me a quick smile, which was as good as a kiss right now, before he turned. I let the lady lead me away down the slope, the crowds gathered on the hills, right down to the back of a crowd of women across the path from Eowyn, who's gaze was fixed on the ground.

There was movement at the top of the hill, far up, and I watched as the funeral procession slowly weaved down through the crowds, along the road, with only the wind as sound. There was the sound of soft sobbing, people behind me crying into their sleeves, grief filling the air, filling my chest, and I felt myself as devastated as they were. The King's only son. Dead.

The closer they came, the more Eowyn's body shook with supressed grief, her face pale, not looking at them, but aware of their presence as it wound closer down the hill. It was only when he was in front of her, this man who must have been amazing in life, that I saw her body shudder, and dampness start to leak down her face.

A voice rang out, so sudden, so powerful, that for a moment I didn't realise it was her singing. The voice echoed around the hills, the city, her hands shaking. A language that was powerful. Head lowered, and my hair whipping around in the wind, I felt Legolas move close, literally felt him come to stand behind me, a palm coming to rest on my back, his head lowered.

No one spoke. No speeches. He was carried in, Theodan standing there, face blank of everything, all his grief hidden... but he was trembling. And then the doors were shut and crowds of people moved away, quiet, heads down.

I let Aragorn lead me back up, Legolas just inches away, Gimli trudging beside us. When we could, we found the hall and the tables, and I followed, not caring how people stared. This must have been why Aragorn had said I was his 'sister'. So that I could freely be alone with them.

"I guess women don't usually hang out with men..." I tried, tried to smile, but I couldn't do it.

"No." Aragorn agreed, sitting down heavily, staring at his hands. "A waste."

"A life cut short." Legolas agreed quietly. He stood beside Aragorn, hand on his shoulder, staring out the window. "Just a child."

Théodred had looked like he was around my age, but I didn't argue, Legolas was right. He was virtually a teenager still. Too young to die. Too young to fight. If I had kids, if I had them here, there was no fucking way I'd let them be warriors at that age. Warriors were Boromir's age, in their late thirties, real men who'd had time to grow into their bodies.

"A waste." Gimli said quietly, staring ahead. "Just a boy. A youth. These fights are always a waste."

"How long do dwarfs live, Gimli?" I asked softly.

The women from before moved closer, just as Gimli opened his mouth to respond, lowering bowls of hot soup and bread onto the table for us, drinks of ale beside it. Rohan ale. I had this memory of a time, that seemed like months ago now, of being in Rivendel and offered Rohan drink. How far we'd come, in so many levels, how long we'd travelled. Suffered. Been hurt.

"For three hundred years, give or take a decade." Gimli answered softly and reached for one of the plates as he stood. He glanced up to the women, who were retreating, "Thank you. Come on. Let's eat. I'm starving."

We ate together, standing and sitting around the little table in the tiny room, quiet and unable to speak, the cold wind cutting through the hall with every powerful gust.

"We have survived." Aragorn said, finally, staring up. He lowered his drink. "And we will overcome. We will win this war. Let us drink to Théodred, to a death worthy of a King, and regain our own strength."

I raised my mug of the ale stuff, hadn't even tried it yet, and we toasted quietly to the man now in the tomb. I drank slowly, just a mouthful, and reached out to take a bowl of the soup and to eat it. It was only a small amount, and gone so quickly, but I felt satisfied and relaxed as the warmth flooded my cold insides.

There was noise outside, Gandalf's voice, and Aragorn lowered his bowl as well. The women came to clear it, everything except for Gimli's mug of ale, which she refilled on his request. Legolas moved to lean against the pillar, as Gandalf entered, carrying a little girl in his arms. Another followed, a boy, exhausted and stumbling, face covered in dirt.

"Food, quickly!" Eowyn's voice rang out. I hadn't even seen her there, hadn't heard her nearby, but she rushed past us, taking the little girl from Gandalf and helping her to sit down. She turned, the Lady in all sense, ordering, "As much as we have remaining. And heat the water. Prepare clothing for them. Find my old nurse. They can sleep in the Hall."

"Yes, M'lady."

Eowyn knelt beside them, reaching up to stroke the girl's hair, smiling a gentle smile, her face still white and strained. "You two have travelled far."

"From ..." Some word I couldn't pronounce, the boy answered, some place. He was trembling, shaking, and the second hot food was in front of him, he grasped it and ate like a starving child. It was gone in seconds and Eowyn lifted it up.

"Bring him more. Both of them." She ordered. Then she saw us, saw no food, and Eowyn's face darkened. "Did I not order them to be brought food?"

"We brought soup, M'lady..."

"Bring them bread, cheese, meats. Pipes. Warm drink. We owe them a debt of gratitude and they have come a long way." She moved towards the children again, turning, and spoke softly with them.

More food was brought out to us as she got the story out of the children. Wild men, they'd said, and Orcs. They'd burnt down their village and their mother had sent them ahead on the horse.

"Do you think she is okay, M'lady?" The boy asked, quietly, staring up. He seemed to already know the answer. Orc? Wild men? When Eowyn didn't answer, he stared back down at his plate, and started to eat again, slowly.

"Sit, Wenduin." Aragorn said softly to me, pulling at me. "Beside me. We are guests, and we accept their hospitality."

I blinked at him and at the food. I'd forgotten about it. Slowly, I went around the pillar, Legolas and my arm brushing, and sat back down beside Aragorn. He filled a plate and offered it to me.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded, as I started to eat again. Theodan came back in, Gandalf beside him, and he sat heavily in the throne, waving away a woman as she hurried to bring him food.

"I am not hungry." He said softly. "Are they well?"

"They are exhausted. Bring a blanket." Eowyn's eyes went over the girl, who was trembling, and she knelt down to sit beside her, arm over her. "Their village has been destroyed. Their mother sent them here on her horse. Bravely, they have made it, but their village..."

Their village. Their family. Maybe their mother. I knew it. The King's face, already taunt with grief, was hidden as he lowered his head, staring at his legs. He'd been under a spell and his people were being attacked.

"They had no warning, they were unarmed." Eowyn stood up, slowly. She seemed to find purpose, strength, the earlier grief gone. "Now the wild men are moving through

the westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot, and tree."

I stared at her, the dream-like memory coming up, and realised. Eowyn was a warrior too. She wanted to hunt them down. Defend her people. This must have frustrated her. She was offered a blanket and took it, eyes on her uncle, her steady gaze not wavering even as he hid his face in his hand.

" Where is mamma?"

"Shh." Eowyn turned back to the girl, kneeling, draping the blanket over her back.

"This is but a taste of the terror Saruman will unleash. All the more potent for he is driven mad by fear of Sauron. Ride out and meet him head on." Gandalf moved closer, determined, "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 lowered his pipe, not having even lit it yet, more or less chewing on the end.

"They will be three hundred leagues from here by now. Éomer cannot help us. 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." Theodan stood, his shoulders squaring, breathing in.

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

The look on Theodan's face, as he stared at Aragorn, made me flinch. He said, with new-found strength, probably strength he'd wished he'd had with Grima, "When I last looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was King of Rohan."

Gimli burped, in front of me, and Aragorn nudged him under the table as he wiped his face with his beard.

Gandalf stood, slowly. "Then what is the King's decision?"

Theodan stood there a long time, gazing at us, then to the children, as Eowyn sat with them. He breathed in slowly, and called, "Hamas."

Hamas came in from the front.

"Yes, my King?"

"We leave for Helm's deep. All are to leave the city. No one is to remain behind." Theodan turned, heading for a door in the side of the hall, leaving us. "We leave as soon as we are ready."

"Yes, my King." Hamas nodded his head, thumping his chest, and turned.

Eowyn turned to the children, quiet, and said softly, "Come, finish the meal, and we will give you fresh clothing."

"I'm tired." The girl said, quietly, not as a whining child, but as a child who had gotten far too past what they could do. "I don't want to go."

Eowyn smiled a sad smile. "Then you can sleep on the back of my wagon. I will make room for you both. Come, this is my maid, and she has hot water and clothing waiting. I will not be far."

"Yes, M'lady." The boy spoke up, standing, and gently grasped his sister's shoulder. "Freya, she has to get ready too, and we have to wash in case we see mother. Mamma always says we have to greet the sun with a clean face and a smile."

"Okay." Freya stood up slowly, grasping her brother's hand, and they followed the maid out of the Hall.

We waited for Gimli to finish eating, as he polished off the last of the cheese and meat, before Gandalf spoke.

"Come." Gandalf said, softly, gesturing. "Walk with me, all of you."

We followed him out. No one spoke, not until we heard Hamas shouting orders to the people, his voice echoing down the slopes of the city. I kept stumbling on the dress, on the hem, it was hard to walk fast in.

"By order of the King, the city must empty. We make for the refuge of Helm's

Deep. Do not burden yourself with treasures. Take only what provisions you need."

"Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight." Gimli exclaimed, growling softly, his breath smelling of ale and cheese as we followed Gandalf down to the stable.

"They do what their King orders them." Gandalf responded, and added, "And so will we."

We entered the stables, Gimli apparently not satisfied, "Who will defend them if not their King?"

"He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has

saved them in the past."

Helm's deep was going to be a disaster. I opened my mouth, wanting to say it, wanting to say what I knew. What I'd seen in that place. Instead, I strode after the others, Legolas grasping my arm and Gimli's arm, drawing us back. Aragorn and Gandalf moved ahead, speaking, and Legolas said softly, "We do as Aragorn asks."

"Agreed." Gimli said, deflating slightly.

"Yeah, agreed." I breathed out, slowly. What else could we do? I knew some of us survived Helm's deep, right? "So we should get ready to go."

"We should, yes." Gimli agreed. He clasped my arm, nodding.

Gandalf moved past, at a gallop, a white blur of wizard and horse, and we jumped out of his way.

"Come, let us find you ...something easier to travel in." Legolas smiled softly. "And a bow."

"Weapons are probably a good idea." I agreed, ignoring the stare of a man who'd walked past us, following Legolas back out. "Give them back their dress."

Legolas nodded. Gimli moved to my other side, the three of us heading towards the Hall. When I saw the women, I called, "I need my clothing back."

"M'lady?" She stared at me, surprised, and held something up. A dress. A plain dress. Eowyn moved past, in a plain dress of her own, her hair loose again. "This is-"

Something brushed my hair, suddenly, and Legolas said softly as he made my lack of ears obvious. "This is an Elf maiden, and she is as much a warrior as I am."

That was an overstatement big time, but she blinked, staring at my ears, and then at me. Her jaw dropped and suddenly she was bowing, almost, nodding, nearly dropping the dress. "Y... yes, M'lady. Forgive me. I did not... with your brother... did not think of such a thing. Your clothing is ...most is still damaged, but I can find you clothing to replace some?"

"Please." I smiled weakly. Oh boy. Now she thought I was an Elf too. I'd have to kick Legolas later for this. "Sorry for the trouble."

"No trouble, M'lady, none." She moved away, hesitated, and asked, "Would you have a dress or two as well?" It was like she couldn't quite accept that me, even as an 'elf woman', would spend all my time in leggings and tunic like a man. When I nodded, I actually saw relief, something she DID understand. "Yes, my Lady."

"You change." Legolas said, his hand on my shoulder. "I'll find you a bow suitable for you."

I nodded, he squeezed my shoulder, leaning forward just a moment, before he turned.

Gimli shifted. "I will be in the armoury. This needs sharpening." He held up his axe, which did look a bit worse for wear, before he turned and headed off too.

I was re-dressed. Like I suspected, she couldn't quite handle it, and the tunic... was feminine. Longer. It covered my hips completely, went to mid-thigh, and I suspected she probably was thinking about making it longer somehow. The leggings turned out to be real pants, not leggings, and not tight, but baggy.

"You wear these underneath." She explained, as she held up brown leggings, tighter looking things. "They provide warmth. Though I would not be surprised if an Elf has no worry of that."

"Better safe than sorry, right?" I took both, and tugged the leggings on, then the black pants, the smooth fabric sliding over the tighter ones easily. Insulation. Good idea. These people must have really been used to the cold. I stared down at my chest and... "Where is the binding thing?"

"Do you need it? Your curves are-" She hesitated. "You use a bow." I nodded and she sighed, reaching for something. "Then you will need to flatten it, yes. It is a shame."

But at least she didn't argue when I tugged the tunic on over the shirt and the bindings, or the belt, and when I glanced up, Legolas was standing there, watching us, arms crossed. He almost looked amused as I tugged on boots, struggling a little, and I wanted to throw a boot at his smug face. Prince Leggy had custom made boots. Nice for him. I had what I could get.

She hadn't noticed him yet, but when he moved, she jumped, and bowed.

"It's all right." He said softly, to her. "We need to talk. Can you leave us for a while?"

"I will be helping pack food." She nodded, backing off, and shut the door behind us.

Legolas moved behind her, locking it, and gazed at me, across the small space, his mask fading. Indifference fading. The face he used with humans... it just vanished, melted away, and instead, there it was. The affection, desire, the look of a man who'd thought his lover had died, who'd grieved and...

He crossed the room in two strides, grasped me, and pushed me against the wall, kissing hard, hands grasping my arms. "A'maelamin..."

"Legolas..." I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck, and felt him lift me up, wrap my legs around his waist, his mouth teasing my neck.

"I thought you were dead, A'maelamin ..." Legolas shook at the word 'dead', trembling, and he stared down at me. "I could not feel you."

"I wasn't near you, of course you couldn't..." I tried to joke, smiling weakly, as he cupped my face gently. I leaned up to kiss him, a soft kiss at first, our lips grazing against each other, his taste filling my head and sending warmth deep into my body.

"Let me ...have you." He whispered, against my lips. "It would not be as long as I like but-" A hand slid up the tunic, under the binding, and I inhaled, shutting my eyes. Not rough, like Boromir's hand, not even close. "-I would have you now, rather than wait any longer. If you desire me."

I desired him. I felt it, my body ached for it, and yet, I felt ...something else too, fear, crawling in my belly, fear. I nodded, seeing his face fill with relief, and tried to ignore the fear of this. Why should I be afraid of sex? With him?

Legolas knelt, slowly, drawing down my pants and leggings, his eyes still locked in mine. As he moved, he kissed my leg slowly, each bit, fingers tracing down the healing scrapes and cuts. "I will not be rough."

"All right." I smiled, forcing myself to relax, to forget. I wanted him. I really did, I wanted to hold him, to be held, and to be connected with him again, the safest place I'd found. "I'll be gentle too."

"Don't be." Legolas stood, lifting a leg around his waist, his body grazing mine as he captured my lips. He nipped my lip gently, tugging, as he slid his own clothing out of his way. "What you do, I can hide..."

With a groan, I felt him push into me, and a wave of panic flooded me, my eyes shutting, one leg around his waist, the other on the ground. His arms wrapped around me, kissing gently, and he waited.

"Are you all right?"

I nodded, smiling weakly, trembling. It scared me. Having sex scared me.

"Open your eyes." Legolas urged, softly, and when I opened my eyes, only then did he move his body down and up, grinding against me, heat flooding my hips. "Do not shut them. It is me."

Me. It is me. Did he know? Had Boromir told him? I nodded, eyes fixed in his grey ones, focusing on him. It was Legolas. Leggy man. My lover. He kissed me, shutting his eyes, and groaned softly against my lips, as our bodies ground against each other, his pleasure echoed in his face with every motion, his arms holding me, and the more I saw him, the more I watched him, the safer I felt.

I was safe. It was okay. He would stop if I asked him to.

When I whispered faster, Legolas obeyed, and I finally could get lost in it, in our bodies, ignoring the horse men and women outside, the war we were about to enter again, the battle to come, all I cared about was Legolas, his body, his fast breathing, and how human... how mortal... he looked, when he gasped against my neck, his release and pleasure unhidden from me. Something tipped in me, beautiful glorious pleasure, that went straight up into my body, into my womb, and I cried out against his neck, buried in his hair, trembling as the release cast out any last remaining anxiety or fear.

"Amin mela lle, Wenduin..."

I understood. How, I had no fucking idea, but I knew what he'd just said, and I gaped at him. He loved me? Legolas hesitated, staring up at me as he lowered my leg slowly, "Do you understand what I am telling you?"

I nodded and his face lit up, this beautiful open joy, joy that overflowed into me somehow, right through my shock. He knelt, sliding my leggings on and the pants, before he re-dressed himself, every last bit of tension long gone from his face now.

I wanted to tell him I wasn't an Elf. I wanted to remind him. But I couldn't do it. He seemed so pleased, so relieved that I had understood, that I just said quietly, "You..."

"You can say it when it feels right, Wenduin. We have no rush." Legolas stroked his hand along my side, face buried in my neck, and added, "I feared you had been hurt by them."

"They couldn't." But Boromir had. I wanted to say it. The words were right there, in my mouth, and yet I couldn't say it. If Legolas knew, he didn't bring it up, and if he didn't... how could I tell him that now? Would he think I was a whore, still enjoying sex? My heart twisted painfully, guilt, regret and ...

Ohfuck.

"Legolas?"

"Mm?"

"I ..." I smiled, weakly, shutting my eyes. "I ... you know. Amin mela ... um, lee."

He laughed, lifting me up, and hugged me close. The lock in the door opened beside us, the door opened, and Eowyn stared at us too, at our red sweaty faces, swollen lips, my hair all over the place again. If she knew what we'd just done, she didn't comment, and she didn't seem that surprised to see us alone.

"We leave. Wenduin, I have a horse for you to ride, so that you do not have to share with your brother." She came in, as Legolas lowered me down, and held something out. "A sword."

"Thanks." I took it, admiring it, and she nodded before she turned out, her mind already ahead of her body.

Legolas moved to the door and lifted up a small bow, holding it out, a quiver in his other hand. "Here."

"Back to work?"

He nodded, moving forward to strap the arrows to my back, fingers running through my hair affectionately. Before I knew it, Legolas was tying it back, ignoring my ears or lack there of, eyes still burning with affection that hadn't even faded when Eowyn came in. As I strapped the sword to my belt and put it back on, Legolas stood back, and his affection faded under determination. "We have a duty to our friends."

"To our friends." I agreed, reaching to take the necklace out, fingering it. And our lovers.