I woke early the next morning, long before Eowyn had risen, and lay there staring at the top of our tent. More dreams had haunted me. It was always about Legolas, dying like I did, but none of them made as much sense as the first had. The more I had, the less reason to each dream, which didn't make it any less upsetting.

When I was sure I wasn't going to burst into tears, I dressed quickly and quietly, used the chamberpot, and went outside to find something to eat or drink.

Legolas had not budged. I reached up, combing my hair with my fingers, as I watched him stand exactly where I'd left him last night. Had this not been something I'd seen before- Legolas keeping watch like a statue dusk to dawn without flinching- I might have been concerned after what he'd shared with me last night. The wind played with his hair, the golden sunlight setting his skin and hair aglow with the same firey light, this unearthly being that no man went near. They seemed to avoid going near him.

I grabbed two mugs of water and went to stand beside the big scary pretty Elf, who's head twitched sideways a little in my direction, holding out a mug for him. Legolas took it and drank slowly.

"Morning."

"Morning." Grey eyes met mine. He didn't move, didn't come closer, but his eyes burnt with that intense love that was better than a good morning hug. In this situation- war- this was probably all I'd get. "You did not sleep well."

"Nope." I reached into my mug and tried to wash my face with wet fingers. The cold water did kind of help. Looking back down I tried to do the 'good eyesight thing'. This time it didn't work. "Tomorrow's the day, isn't it?"

"Yes." Legolas glanced behind us both towards where Aragorn's tent was. "But I have spoken with Gimli and Boromir. We believe Aragorn will take the path of the dead."

"The path of the dead?"

He pointed at the back of the wide flat area. I'd been so obsessed with the terrible height of the cliff that I'd barely paid attention to the back. The back had seemed big, secure, protective. Now that I actually looked there was one gap in the big protective walls around us.

"If Aragorn leaves, we have agreed to go with him. I will not tell you to remain or to come."

"I'm coming." It was an instant answer. What other answer could there be? Legolas was probably expecting the answer anyway. "Just let me know when."

"Be ready to travel."

I nodded, Legolas going quiet once more, returning his eyes and ears to the world he watched.

It grew lighter, slowly, over the beautiful land. Many hundreds of tents sat below, each unique, some small and some large. Banners flew in the breeze. Hundreds of horses, more than I had ever seen in my life, roamed free. Probably close to their masters, from what Boromir had said, but free. More must have come overnight, there was another area of the clearing below starting to fill up, smoke rising from one of the areas. It looked like a blacksmith. There was one up here too.

I could sing.

I blinked, gazing ahead, so amazed at my own memory. I could literally sing. Brian had loved it. When in cosplay, I would enter competitions and I would sing something from that world, I'd even done it as Gimli. Archery. Singing. Sewing. I had been good at all three of those things. Singing I had only done if Brian was there though. I couldn't cope unless he was there. He'd actually punched a guy who'd laughed at me once, he'd been furious, he'd always defended me.

"I can sing." I said softer, moving closer to Legolas side, the words surprising even me. When I felt his attention half return to me.

"Sing for me."

No Brian. God, I was starting to hate him, and yet … I wished he was here to be that protective presence right now. I suddenly felt naked, really vulnerable, aware of Legolas staring at me with that intense expression again. What if I messed up again? The only thing I could think of, the thing I'd sung when I'd cosplayed Gimli, sprung to mind. It was short. It'd be over with quickly.

"Far over the misty mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old-"

Something in Legolas face cracked, a mask, as he stared at me. I felt so damn nervous. My voice wasn't like other womens, it was lower, I had always been able to sing the male parts realy well. It was from the Hobbit trailor. I'd sung it as Gimli. I remembered that part now. Singing it.

"-The pines were roaring on the height,
The winds were moaning in the night-"

Gimli's voice joined me, quiet, his unexpected appearance not startling me. If anything his voice seemed to help.

"The fire was red, it flaming spread;
The trees like torches blazed with light."

Legolas stared at the two of us with an unfathomable expression. I went quiet, it was all I knew, but Gimli continued in a soft voice.

"The bells were ringing in the dale
And men looked up with faces pale;
Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire
Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon;
The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.
They fled their hall to dying fall
Beneath his feet, beneath the moon.

Far over the misty mountains grim
To dungeons deep and caverns dim
We must away, ere break of day,
To win our harps and gold from him!

Far over the misty mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old
We must away, ere break of day,
To find our long-forgotten gold."

He went quiet, staring down into the camps as well now, a kind of warmth between myself and Gimli growing stronger. When he met my eyes, his eyes were actually damp, and there was this deep appreciation in his face as he stared at me. "A song my father and mother would sing to me. Tis not just Elves and Men, then, that are remembered."

"No."

"You sing as a woman of the dwarves would. Thankyou, Lass." Gimli grasped my arm, quiet, breathing out a long sigh. Emotion flooded his voice and face.

As a woman of the dwarves. Did this bother Legolas? I stared at him but he stared away. I could have sworn, almost, that his eyes were damp too.

"She sings as an Elf." He said quietly.

These compliments probably should have made me feel good. It didn't. I felt even more self-concious and vulnerable. I'd only sung a few lines and hadn't done that well anyway, being nervous. Legolas seemed suddenly all emotional again.

It vanished very fast as people started to really wake up around us, Legolas was quick to do his mask thing, though I wondered how deep it had gone. Had it made him sad? Happy? God, why did I have to do it? I hated how vulnerable and exposed I felt now.

I wanted to pick up an arrow suddenly and shoot something. Establish my ...um. Strength.

"I will teach you the songs of our kin, Wenduin."

"And mine." Gimli added. Legolas nodded to him, shutting his eyes once more, and when he opened them again the last of his emotion had vanished into the calm Elf expression once more.

"Train today." It was a suggestion. A good one. I nodded and moved away, leaving the two of them alone, my legs kind of weak suddenly.

Eowyn had sung. Singing wasn't so unusual. I tried to swallow my fear and self-conciousness down. This wasn't the same place I'd come from. But he'd looked like he wanted to cry. Why? I didn't know or understand why Legolas had seemed so affected. It had been a Dwarven song.

I headed into the tent, Eowyn passing me on her way out, her mind clearly somewhere else already as she only nodded briefly. She always seemed so busy. I reached for my bow and-

Legolas pushed me down, sudden, as he tugged me over onto my back, nearly crashing into me as we tumbled back onto my bed. He kissed me hard, again and again, his hair falling around us in some kind of curtain.

"Legolas?"

"Do not ask." He tugged my tunic open, slightly, lips pressing against my collarbone, all control in his face completely gone. "Please."

"Was it because I sung?" I couldn't help it. I had to ask. "I... I won't sing again?"

"Always sing. Never stop." Legolas shifted back, slowly, to kneel in front of me on the bed. "Elves ...we find more beauty, more truth, in the voice of the one we love than any other. I would listen to you sing until the last moments of our life. Never stop."

He kissed me suddenly, rough, desperate, eyes shut as I felt his hands slide under the night-dress and push it up my legs. What about duty? All that stuff? But when his fingers slid up the inside of my thigh, and I was pushed back, I decided that no one would be surprised. Husband. Day before the war. Ect and so on.

Pleasure surged through me, heat, my body instantly responding to Legolas as he pressed his weight against me, his hips grinding through his leggings, mind starting to go foggy. Besides, if we didn't finish what he'd started, I'd scream.

It was fast, this explosion of desperate need, neither of us completely undressing, muffling our sounds against each other as people walked past completely oblivious to what was going on. For once, Legolas took only a few minutes before he'd found his release, and his fingers made sure that I wasn't far behind him. It wasn't like him to finish so fast or to finish before me.

He lay over me, panting, not even having broken a sweat, forehead against the side of my neck as we cooled down together. I pressed my lips against the side of his face, legs relaxing, muscles letting go of all tension. He just had to look at me funny and ...well, I was goo.

It didn't change the fact that something was bothering him.

"What's wrong with you?"

He frowned, shutting his eyes, and shook his head.

"Legolas."

"I will keep watch. Do not fear. I just-" He tried to smile, a sad smile. "-I do not understand our fate." Legolas slid back, slowly, pulling my dress down and re-arranging his leggings back up. I reached up to run a finger through his hair- making it all straight again for him.

"What do you mean?" He wasn't going to answer, was he? It was like earlier- the whole 'I should keep stuff back'. It made me angry. "Legolas, stop trying to protect me, it's really fu-" I cut off the word, gritting my teeth, a frustrated growl escaping instead

"I dream of your death." Legolas slumped back. His voice lowered. "Of your death, drowning within a cave. Then, in the river, where I found you. Upon the mountain. Falling in Moria. On the wall at Helm's Deep. We pass one death, only for me to foresee that you will die again, and-" He breathed in sharply. It tormented him. "-now, again, as you sung. I saw it again."

"I dreamed our death too." I muttered. His eyes slammed into mine. Fear. God, the Elf was afraid, like I'd never seen before in my life.

"When?"

"It was just a dream, Legolas. Worst fears. We're being tormented with our worst fears." It seemed t be working too. I stared at Legolas, who sat in front of me, one leg crossed and the other over my bed, and wondered how I'd ever thought him unearthly or 'immortal'. Yes, he was beautiful, but he had age already creating faint lines in his face as he frowned, and he was clearly not above the usual mortal things. Maybe he felt them less, I didn't know, but dealing with this kind of thing made someone deal with them worse. Okay. Elves were clearly very different. But … maybe not as different as they appeared. Just a different culture and language to us.

"What did you see?"

"I don't really remember. It was a dream. I was dying, you were dying too, and it was exactly what I don't want to happen. I think-" I changed my tone, Leglas hanging on my every word now, "-no, I know it. I don't know if it's possible for that ring thing to still be screwing with our minds but I think that's it. Boromir's been having these nightmares too about his father."

The fact that his father would die was beyond the point. Now that I thought about it, Boromir hadn't even told me what he'd seen, so maybe even he wasn't seeing the truth. "Legolas, I don't think we're seeing the truth."

Neither of us spoke a long time. Legolas was looking away, face unreadable now, but his breathing was slightly deeper, and his hand was now closed around both of mine. "The evil of Sauron does spread beyond Mordor."

"So he might be doing it. Right?" Well, okay, not him. The 'evil'. I had to admit I still didn't quite understand that part. Still, if three of us were now having nightmares that scared us, that upset us, it made some sense.

"It is possible. Yes." His shoulders slumped at the word, Legolas murmuring a string full of words in his own language as he shut his eyes, looking a ton lighter all of a sudden. "Yes. It was as if a fog had fallen over me. Fear."

"Fear, yeah. We're going to feel enough of that later. Well, I will, anyway." I muttered. I wasn't sure about him. The Elf seemed to struggle with death, mortal things, all of that, but when it came to battle, he was amazingly bombproof. Maybe that was the area of life Legolas was most experianced in, the most used to, and if Mirkwood was as dangerous as I'd heard, I supposed that wasn't so surpising. Monsters? Killing things? Sure, okay. Illness, death, disease? Myths, probably, amongst Elves. They probably only died in combat.

"Not with me by your side, my love." Legolas shifted closer, drawing me close, pressing his lips against my forehead. "You comfort me now. When it comes to fight once more, I comfort you."

"Works pretty good, doesn't it?" I smiled weakly, reaching up to tangle my fingers through his hair, half tempted to mess it up. "You okay?"

"Yes." Another deep sigh, another release of tension, his body releasing once more. "Yes. It as if a fog is lifted." Legolas surprised me as he stood up, sudden, his face relaxed under the mask.

Yeah, more or less.

"Why didn't you talk to Gimli about this?"

"I have."

Oh, of course he did. Before me. Should I be upset? Maybe, but I decided to focus on the 'Legolas isn't strung out anymore' aspect instead. He was standing now, back to his usual watchful attention,b back to the duty-distance that we'd adopted. Two feet apart. Somehow, as much as I loved the physical contact with him, as much as I loved the 'lovey dovey' stuff, this sight was somehow much more reassuring to me right now.

"I feared speaking to you. That, by telling you, I would create it." Legolas added softer. "Gimli has watched your back, as have I, for I trust no other more than I trust Gimli."

That did soften me all over again, the warmth on his face as he mentioned the dwarf, and I smiled a little at that. This was what I'd wanted. Legolas and Gimli. Best mates. "Well, we better tell him it's probably ...that fog thing. Fear."

"I will. Boromir seeks you for training." His eyes had gone past me towards the tent wall, smile fading, back to his distant viewing/listening thing all over again.

"All right. Time to dress and get beaten up." I tried to say it cheerfully, flinging back the blankets, and dressed quickly. Still, Legolas kept his distance as he had before, and in his funny way I knew that meant everything was all good again. He was back to normal. I slid my wrist guards on, Legolas only moving forward to assist now, already tired of armour. We'd all worn it every day. My wrists were getting stronger, used to it now, the soft leather not so harsh on my skin as the heavier armour might have been.

Boromir appeared at the tent entrance, I heard his feet stop, and he called out in a surprisingly cheerful manner, "Wenduin, woman, out of bed. Your stance is still pitiful."

I checked Legolas once more, making sure that he was happier, inspecting his face and eyes carefully. He could hide things very well. Very, very well.

"I am comforted, Wenduin." He reached out to touch my arm. "Go."

Only when I was satisfied he was okay that I answered Boromir. "I'm coming."

"Hurry! The day is half over!"

I rolled my eyes, leaned forward to peck Legolas, and headed out to get beaten up again.

Boromir greeted me with a hug, a hunk of some poor animal in bread, and a mug of water. I rejected the corpse sandwich but accepted the rest.

"Thought the day was half over?" I asked, nodding towards the sun which was barely halfway up, Boromir g rinning.

"Tis, if you have been up as early as I have. Did I see-" Before I could stop him, he'd yanked the tent flap aside, clearly searching for Legolas. "-an Elf?"

"Did you?" To my relief Legolas wasn't there. Probably slid under the edge of the tent. "You must have Elves on the brain, Boromir."

"I have orcs on the brain-" He laughed again, his cheerful mood easily catching in me, and whacked his still shethed sword across my backside. "-as should you."

"Hey!" I jumped, face reddening as we got stared at, kicking at him. Legolas, who had gone back to his 'aloof Elf in the corner' position, twitched.

"I will not ask forgiveness for being happy."

"Because of battle?"

"Because-" He laughed again, shaking his head, and moved away towards the cleared area for training. "Forget that. Come, before I drag you."

"Don't you mean before I drag 'thee', you stupid medieval macoist?" I muttered, still red, several soldiers laughing at me as I followed behind Boromir. "I'll have a bruise now."

"Will look enchanting beside those you have from your Elf. Shall I bruise other areas?"

Oh god. I was about to get angry when I caught Legolas face. He, for just a moment, looked totally embarrassed and had slid away through the tents. Probably seeking the more sane comfort of Gimli or Aragorn. I couldn't help it. I laughed, which made Boromir laugh, because he hadn't been teasing me all this time. He'd been teasing Legolas. Looked like he might have cracked the hard nut a little too.

"Defend yourself!" Suddenly, a blade was shoved at me, and I barely got my own sword out in time to meet Boromir's crashing blade.

Boromir, like yesterday, didn't go easy on me. Smash, smash, bang, as we were watched, till my arm and shoulder ached, my back protested, my grip slippery on the handle of the sword. I escaped to the tent, or planned to, but as I turned, a flash of white announced Eowyn. Charging at me. Sword clashing on mine.

"Hey!"

Suddenly, once again, I was in a sparring match, and Eowyn more or less kicked my ass within two minutes. She looked satisfied, standing there with her sword in hand, still in a dress as I knelt on the ground with the blade against my neck, my tailbone screaming where I'd landed on it hard.

Boromir didn't bother hiding his laughter. If I had a bow I'd shoot it between his legs and wipe that look off his internal face. Eowyn seemed amused too, helping me to my feet, this beautiful feminine woman in her dress. "I could not resist. I have heard you better most men with your bow." She'd said the last part louder, Iwas sure of it, because some of the looks I got from the soldiers now wasn't flattering. Roughly translated it was probably 'Yeah, we all knew that woman was just here for their fun'.

"I could shoot off some things." I muttered. Pride. Bruised. So was bum.

"I would see that." Eowyn smiled as she saw something behind me. It was a beautiful smile, loving,even more so with her flushed face, and when I turned I saw Aragorn leaning against a tree watching us, his own face lit up with a smile. But he'd hesitated. His smile had faded as his eyes went over mine to Eowyn.

I didn't think she'd noticed. Behind me I'd heard Boromir ask, "Would you spar with me, my lady?" as Aragorn strode forward to help me to my feet.

"Haven't seen you much." I commented as we moved out of the way of Boromir and Eoywn, who had suddenly started to fight, noticing that Eomer too had come to watch. It was a mixture of pride and ...sadness? Or something.

"I have had much on my mind." Aragorn gazed up to where Eowyn and Boromir charged at each other. I turned to watch as well.

The two of them were so well matched, I'd never seen anything like it, swords just blurs of silver that caught sunlight, Eowyn's pale gold hair streaming around with her dress, Boromir's face a taunt mask of concentration. He was really focusing with her. Not like when he 'sparred' with me, we both knew swords weren't really my thing and so he didn't have to try too hard, but with Eowyn? Clearly a different story. She knew what she was doing.

"Have you thought on our conversation?"

About Legolas. I didn't have to ask to guess what Aragorn meant. It was the last heavy one we'd had. "Well, yeah. I have."

"But you have not agreed."

I sighed. Legolas was no where to be seen now. When I looked at Aragorn, I saw no judgement, nothing except a kind of sadness there. Friendship. He was my friend. "I- I don't really know. According to Elf law, we're already married. Anyway. There's more important things. Like battle."

"True." Aragorn agreed quietly. "You should go to sleep early tonight. The riders of Rohan are used to riding hard and fast- it will be exhausting for us all more used to our feet."

"Do they sleep at night?"

"Of course." To my frustration Aragorn returned to the other topic straight away. "You have already joined in body?"

He was surprisingly frank and open for this world. I glanced at him, seeing no shame or anything, and guessed this might have to do with growing up around Elves. Elves who didn't seem to have the same hangups around their sexuality that humans did. I sighed. "Lothlorien. I didn't know it meant that."

"The people from your land do not marry for it?" He did seem a little surprised now.

"Not really, no." I added quickly, suddenly worried I was about to be judged for this, "I mean, some do. I think." But I hadn't known sleeping with Legolas would result in 'instant marriage'. I hadn't been upset about it before. Now? Now, now that I was talking with Aragorn about this subject I really felt uncomfortable about, it bothered me a little. Legolas had decided long before I'd even really been able to see what kind of sacrifice he was trying to make. "Aragorn, has he already-"

"Sacrificed the gift of his kin? No."

How Aragorn knew this, I didn't know, but it was a huge relief and I sighed. "Where is he?"

"He was sent to aid the cart of firewood, not ten minutes past, and is not here to listen." Aragorn didn't smile. "I have waited to speak to you."

"I don't know anymore now than I did then." I answered the question before he'd asked it. "I don't want him to die. I don't want to hurt him."

"I did not come to remind you." Aragorn's arm closed gently on my arm. "Only to offer my friendship, as your brother, that no matter what I would support you."

"Oh." A weak smile answered him. I was stressed again now. Why was this so damn difficult? "Thanks."

"Boromir would gladly marry you. You know this. And a friend for a husband is something not many wives can boast."

"I know." Maybe I should have smacked Aragorn for suggesting that. Maybe. Emotionally though, I was back to 'Oh crap, I'm ruining his life, and I might have already done it without thinking'. It was not helping how I felt. That dream of seeing him dying was haunting me again. Besides, it wasn't like Aragorn didn't understand. "Is that why you've been so warm to Eowyn?"

He flinched, brow creasing, watching the beautiful woman spar with Boromir, their swords echoing far and wide. A good two dozen men had gathered around by now to watch and cheer, I saw coin being passed, mostly behind Eomer's back. "Aye. I have also been faced with this choice."

"But you aren't married to Arwen."

Aragorn hesitated. I blinked up at him as he said, very slowly, "I-... am in a similar position to you now. We are fools when we love. She leaves, and with her, I loose a wife I had but one moment."

Oh, the poor bastard. I didn't answer him. Eowyn had Boromir on the ground, a sword against his stomach, and he had his blade across her throat. The fight was over and Aragorn moved away with one last squeeze of my arm.

Boromir would marry me. I knew that. As he met my eyes, laughter all over his face, crinkling his skin, I knew it and... I could honestly see that it would work. I liked Boromir. He liked me. Well, okay, I didn't love him. But we would age together. The people of Gondor wouldn't find our marriage strange, or unusual, and there would be instant acceptance. He probably wouldn't force me to have sex with him, after what we'd thought had happened, and if we... if I decided to try for children... they would be instantly accepted, welcomed, and would have a happy life amongst their own people.

I didn't know why but this thought broke my heart. It really did. It wasn't that I didn't like Boromir. The problem was that I had already fallen for the stupid Elf.

Before Legolas could come back and see how upset I suddenly was, I headed off for the tent I shared with Eowyn, and spent the afternoon repairing clothing curled up at the end of my bed. It was easier and safer to face these domestic duties than to face the choice between condemning Legolas to an early death and children not accepted in his society, or breaking Legolas' heart.

Eventually sewing didn't do a thing. I crawled into bed, kind of depressed now, and tried to escape.

"You!" Eowyn's sharp voice and clap made me nearly fall out of bed. "Out of bed! Merry, it's safe to come in." She was moving around, lighting lanturns, filling our tent with a warm glow. "She was dressed."

"Why?" I blinked up at her, dazed, sleepy, 'action woman' back to her sharp self. "Huh?"

"Merry was afraid you were undressed in bed." Eowyn smiled as she opened the tent flap for Merry. It was dark outside now. "We must make sure everything fits and is ready for the morning."

"Exactly." Merry wandered in, gazing around, an armful of armour in his arms. "You should get yours, Wendy, I want to see it."

"Mine?" I stood up slowly, tossing blankets back over my bed, and shrugged. I nodded towards my pile of stuff. "It's there."

"Have you not been preparing it?"

"Uh-" I wasn't aware I had to. I blinked stupidly at Eowyn, who raised her eyes in exasperation and headed straight for my stuff.

"You and Merry!" She exclaimed. "Merry, lay yours out upon the floor." Eowyn was laying mine out, touching it, clearly finding problems with it that annoyed her. "Have you never treated or cared for this?"

"Well, uh..."

"At this looks to be well cared for." She was sliding the long silver knife to one side, my bow close by, but as her eyes went back to the thin leather tunic, the wrist guards, and the boots, I could tell Eowyn was not impressed. "This will all need to be replaced."

"Replaced! But I've had it since ..." Since when? Mostly since Rivendel, seeing as the Uruk Hai hadn't bothered taking it away. "Since Rivendel. The Elves offered it to me."

"It is all man-made and has not seen a day of care since it was given to you. Has it?"

I felt sleepy and dazed. "I need a coffee."

"I take that as a no." Eowyn lifted the tunic. She was fingering it, sliding things off, exposing very fine chain mail that I hadn't noticed. "The leather is useless. The smithy will need to repair it before tomorrow."

"It is?"

Now that she held it up to a light I could see lighter patches, darker patches, and felt guilt start to creep in. I supposed I had noticed the men fiddling with their armour. I just hadn't thought about it.

"It is lucky it is not the metal, Wenduin." If anything reminded me that I wasn't a warrior this did it big time. I felt totally embarrassed as she heaped the stuff into my arms, clearly not impressed with me anymore, Eowyn's disapproving gaze stabbing deep into my already bruised pride. She pointed at the door. "Go! There is not time to wait."

I went, nearly crashing into Eomer who had settled himself outside, his eyes going over me and then back to his fire with a dismissal that normally wouldn't have bothered me. Now that I felt totally stupid it kind of did. The whole 'you're a woman, you can't do war' thing that usually I ignored.

The blacksmith made me feel worse. I sat there, tired, watching as he literally tore off the leather and tossed it towards the fire it once he'd cut copies out of leather. Now that I saw them side by side, I saw that Eowyn had been right, that what I'd been wearing had been pretty shabby. There was no way it'd left Rivendel like that. I supposed I must have abandoned ...care. Or something.

"What are you doing?" Boromir's exclaim made me jump and the blacksmith look up. He was grabbing the leather, face darkening, looking pretty angry.

"Repairing."

"This is no ordinary leather. You cannot repair... twas not broken! Where is the rest? Restore it!" Boromir took one look at me, eyes seizing up my tired face, slumped shoulders, and I saw his temper fray a little more.

"Burnt."

Boromir, to my surprise, just about smacked the man over the head with my armour. Or what was left of it. Instead he grasped my arm, stuffing the rest under his arm, his teeth gritted. "What were you thinking?"

"I don't know. Eowyn said it was ...too thin."

"It is supposed to be thin, Wenduin, but no stronger leather could you find." Boromir sat down heavily near a fire and held it up. He scowled at the spaces where the blacksmith had cut it away from the fine metal shape. "Idiot. Not you, Wenduin. You are not from here. You would not know. Burnt!"

"What kind of leather was it?"

"It would break your heart to know." Boromir wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he stared at the last remaining peace. "It breaks my heart. Now what will you wear?"

"I don't know. You could let the poor man fix it. He was probably tired."

With a soft growl, Boromir dropped it, and shook his head. "I would … my friend, the finest blacksmith in Gondor, would have your poor tired friend's eyes gouged. Fix it! Had we an Elf who was a blacksmith, we could fix it, but-"

"Oh, calm down, it can't be that bad." I felt better though. I smiled weakly at him, edging him sideways, and stood up. "So we'll find something else."

Boromir followed, the blacksmith wisely having vanished and with some new fresher guy there, and under Boromir's direction, somehow we found something small and light enough. Sort of. It was amazing though- even though it was 'thin' and 'light' it was clearly heavier than what I was used to. The tunic fit a little looser, the thickness twice that of the other one, the smell of leather filling my nostrils. Now that I thought about it, the other one hadn't really had a smell, it hadn't really smelt like a dead animal. This one really smelt like one.

We stood inside the tent, Boromir helping me adjust it, his face still tense with anger. Okay. What kind of leather had that one been?

"I don't think they meant to ruin it." I said quietly.

"I know. But you are not used to this weight. You would need two, three days, just to be used to the changes." Boromir was yanking at a buckle. I winced as it pinched flesh.

"It is a bit weird. I can handle it." I lifted my arm. It rubbed in a different spot. I could already anticipate blisters there. Oh well.

"You should ride without it on. The weight may not seem much now-" Boromir shoved my hair out of his way, not even bothering to be gentle as he tried to yank at it, clearly dissatisfied, "-but ten hours on horseback, in battle, and you will feel it."

"Can you sharpen this?" Merry's voice drifted into the smithy's tent.

I wondered where Legolas was. I hadn't seen him since earlier. Ignoring Boromir's fussing, I gazed outside into the dark, but couldn't really see the edge of the cliff where he usually liked to stand.

"-and when Aragorn hears-" Boromir was continuing. He growled softly, finally managing to get it to fit just how he wanted, which wasn't that comfortable. I supposed armour wasn't really supposed to be. He gathered up the remains of mine and carefully wrapped it up. "-but I will take this back to Gondor."

"Can it be fixed there?"

"I told you. I would only trust an Elf or a dwarf with this." Boromir stared with heavy scrutany at the armour. "This would be better fitting but there is not time. They did not melt your sword down as well, did they? Destroy your bow?"

"No. They're still in the tent with Eowyn."

"Then there is some sanity left in the world." Boromir went outside, I followed, and he lifted one of the smaller swords that were piled up. Merry glanced up as we came out. "Now, we train."

"Now? What about early rest?"

"You have new armour, woman, so draw." Boromir was looking ten years older suddenly. I followed him outside and scrambled to drag the sword out as he suddenly slammed his sword at me. Blade on ...whatever they called the thing the sword was pocketed into... and I shoved him back as I managed to convince the sword to leave it.

The man was not nice. Smash, smash, bang, bang, and I started to see the difference. The problem. The armour, just chest armour, was only five or so kilograms heavier, but that made a lot of difference. I was stiffer, couldn't move as quickly, and the more I struggled, the more Boromir looked like he was about to charge after the blacksmith and smash his sword into him. There were other problems I noticed too though. Although my arms were free- it was more like a vest than anything- the armour itself was amazingly noisy compared to the last lot.

"How are you to fight!" Boromir raised his hands in defeat as, for the third time in half an hour he'd managed to get the sword into a killing spot.

"Same way everyone else does. One orc at a time. Right?" When my words didn't reassure him, his anger spilling out, anger, fear, concern, I tried to add, "Boromir, come on. It's done."

The remaining blacksmith took one look at Boromir, dropped the sharpened sword beside where Merry sat watching, and vanished into the darkness. Smart man.

"Speed was one thing you had. More than once I saw it save your life. And now... Here." He slammed the curve of a bow in my hand. "Tis not your size, and may be harder to draw, but try and see how you feel firing."

I could have argued or something. But I decided it was better to just try. Boromir left for a minute, returning with food, impatiently tucking his hair behind his ears as he slid them down. He pointed at the straw target. "Fire!"

I did, amazed at the difference between bows, cringing as the stupid tunic pinched my body. Ow. Ow. Boobs. Had to remember to bind them down tomorrow. Really get them out of my way. Ow.

"Enough! Merry, Wenduin, go to bed!" Boromir kicked something, barking orders, and when we blinked at him, he strode forward towards me and started to undo the chest armour. "I will see what I can do."

He was already heading out again.

"No, Boromir, you'll sleep." I batted his hands away as I tried to peel it off. "Relax." I checked it out as I did, finding it was fairly tough leather sewn or glued to sheets of metal. A vest shape- so my arms were bare.

"Wait. You have what?" When I opened the curtain, I saw the blacksmith hurridly offering something to Boromir, who snatched it and strode back to me. "On."

"Now?"

Apparently so. I dropped it over my head, expecting it to be heavy, but found it wasn't so bad. It was quieter than the other one. "Okay, so it's good. Can we-" I cut off, as Boromir prodded one side-boob, slapping his hand away.

" I must know if it fits properly." He muttered, ignoring me, pinching it. "It is loose."

"Isn't it supposed to be?"

"No."

Oh, well showed what I knew about armour. Which was virtually nothing. As I examined it, I found it was mostly just tiny rings of metal 'sewn' together with more metal. It was much quieter than the other one. "What do you wear in Gondor?"

"Plate armour." Boromir responded. "It would be too heavy for you."

"So... lots of metal?" I agreed then.

"You and Faramir fight better in light armour." Boromir gritted his teeth as he tugged at the ring-mail. He was actually sweating. I stared at him. Why did it worry him so much? Was he afraid for me suddenly?

"What did he wear?"

"A shirt, thick, difficult to cut-" He jabbed at the metal rings. "-and a thick leather tunic over. Light. Very quiet. Fitted to his body so that it would not hamper his movement." Boromir sat back, still annoyed, crossing his arms as he gazed up at me. "If this happened to him, I would have the man's head."

I sat down, awkward, wondering how the hell I'd sit on a horse for three days if I could barely sit. It was tight around my waist and hips- clearly made for a man's narrower hips- and too loose up top. Not comfortable. I probably shouldn't have sat down. When Boromir saw it- how hard it was to wear sitting- a vein started to throb in his temple.

"If your Elf could see this..." He growled softly.

"I don't know where my Elf is." Suddenly, this really worried me. I had this vague memory, vision, whatever it was called, of Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn vanishing through the gap in the mountain. Path of the dead or something. "Think we should locate him."

"I agree." Boromir was agreeing for a different reason. "Tis the best here. Ride without it, if you can, it will not help your endurance. Here." He yanked something over my head, some kind of shirt thing that went over it, and a belt. "Wear it as we look. Get used to it."

"I'm ..." Merry's voice cut in. He seemed kind of embarrassed to talk, like he felt like a third wheel, his eyes going from me to Boromir. "I should sleep."

"You should." Boromir agreed. He smiled, a faint warmth there finally showing, reaching out to slap his hand against Merry's shoulder. "I did promise to talk with you. Tomorrow. Early."

"Tomorrow, early." Merry agreed. He stood up and hurried away, glancing back, this bizarre expression on his face as it went from myself to Boromir. What was that about anyway?

I was relieved to see Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn. All here. Eating. Legolas glanced up, his eyes critically going over my new armour, Gimli grunting.

"What's that?"

"Her new armour. The blacksmith burnt the last." Boromir crossed his arms. To my amazement, Aragorn flinched, Gimli growled softly and stood, Legolas ….well, on the outside nothing changed. I knew him well enough to know that tiny shift to the left meant that he was bothered. This was clearly exactly what Boromir had hoped for. He added, anger rising in his voice again, "Let us go talk to this smith."

"It's not a big deal. I've got a few days to get used to it. Food?" I hadn't eaten, I remembered, Boromir had been too busy clucking over me to bother. Legolas held out his barely touched plate and I went for the vegetables. Meat wasn't nice anymore.

"Do you still have your boots?" Aragorn asked, his eyes going to my bare feet, and when I nodded he sighed. "She is right. It is done. Let it go, Boromir."

"Let it go!" Clearly the wrong words. Boromir almost shouted and several heads twisted in our direction. "Tomorrow, we ride to battle, and you ask me to let it go?"

"Yes." Legolas lowered the plate and moved his eyes back to the fire.

I felt fingers yanking at the armour, Boromir stripping it off me right then and there, so I raised my arms. It was probably better to just go with him. He turned, the ring-mail shirt in hand, and vanished into the tents again.

"Come sit." Aragorn patted the log beside him. I sat down, relieved that I wasn't wearing it now, tugging my clothing back into place. "He's afraid for you."

"What's new?" I felt like I was missing something though. No one spoke, Legolas met my eyes briefly, and still … no clue. Oh well.

The sound of a shout, Boromir's shout, and a commotion somewhere made us all jump. Aragorn jumped to his feet suddenly, moving away towards it, calling to us, "Let me handle him."

"You should rest." Legolas said softly. "With us tonight."

"Agreed." Gimli said softly. He and Legolas shared a look, a look which completely left Aragorn out of it, and I got it. Something was going on. "Early sleep, do you think?" He stretched, yawned, yet... it seemed kind of fake.

"Aragorn will be resting. Boromir is sleeping with him tonight." Legolas had that faraway 'listening to something' expression so I had to assume it meant Aragorn was telling Boromir this.

"Boromir just punched the blacksmith, didn't he?" I muttered.

Legolas nodded. He had this half-smile, half sad, half amused, shaking his head. "I am glad he is angry."

"Why?"

He didn't answer.

Okay. Something really weird was going on. Only Gimli was looking directly at me now. I gritted my teeth, annoyed, and stood up. "Well, I should sleep."

"Yes. I will wake you." Legolas held his plate up to me again. "My bed is unused. Use it."

"Okay, fine." With a last glance at him, a last hesitation, I headed for his tent. What the hell was going on? Everyone was acting weird all of a sudden. I knew something was going on and I didn't like it.

I crawled into bed, suddenly exhausted, and decided that I'd question them later. Nap time.

When I woke, the tent was empty, and I was alone. My head POUNDED, my mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool, and I was completely groggy and disorientated all over again. It felt like I had been drugged or something.

When I managed to open one eye... the sunlight, the complete silence, the absence of voices that this place always seemed to have...

Scrambling to my feet, my head swaying with the effort, I tried to get to the door and stared out of the flaps, bright sunlight blinding me and sending a fresh wave of nausea and pain through my head.

That fucking Elf. He'd drugged me. And now everyone was gone. I swore openly, nearly falling over, my head spinning.

Well, almost everyone, a startled woman had jumped when I'd sworn, her face draining of blood. Oh come on. Swearing wasn't that bad, was it?

Apparently it was.

When I threw up, the woman must have changed her mind about running from the mad swearing woman because she hurried over with a mug of water.

"What time... how long since everyone left? Aragorn? The soldiers?" Since Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli left? What about Boromir?

"It is after lunch, my lady. The Lord Aragorn left last night. Theodan King and the soldiers left this morning upon the break of day. The Lady Eowyn-" The woman hesitated. What was that in her face? Loyalty? "-rests."

A flat out lie and we both knew it. "Sickly, right?"

"Yes."

"Yeah, I know where she is." I muttered. When my stomach threatened to throw up again I drank long and slow, eyes shut, stomach churning. "Bloody Elf."

"You and she seemed sick with the same.I hope she wakes soon." The woman continued to say, looking past me, and I turned.

Eowyn was in bed.

I hadn't even realised- I was in our tent again. And there she was, tossing and turning, Merry right there beside her, white faced.

"Wendy." He said quietly.

Oh fuck. Oh, oh fuck. Here we were. Fighting off some sleeping drug. The army gone. Me? Didn't matter where I was, not really, but Eowyn?

She was supposed to be pretending to be a man right now. Off to meet her destiny.

This was bad. This was very very bad.