When we opened the caves the women came flying out, running to look for husbands, brothers, fathers. Arms were thrown around necks, cheeks were kissed, smiles were exchanged, and eyes emptied of tears. Men began to gather the wounded and bring them into the Keep, where food and bedding were waiting. I stumbled along my way, brain heavy with fatigue now that all the adrenaline from the night was fading. "Gideon!" I saw Eowyn approaching and smiled. "You've made it through." She smiled in relief. "I'm glad."

"So am I." I nodded, happy to hear the small chuckle the statement earned. "How did the night pass in the caves?"

"Terrible." Eowyn said. "So dim, and the noise from out here was constant, we could hear nothing but them thundering on the ground…and then there was the sound of that explosion." She shook her head. "We were so worried we could hardly breathe in those caves."

"I don't think it was much better out here." I said. "We're lucky the wizard returned." Much like in my mother's stories, Gandalf possessed an uncanny habit of showing up just when he was needed most.

"You do look somewhat disheveled." Eowyn nodded over me.

"Yes…about the food and bedding you promised to help with earlier…I don't suppose we could find some for me?"

She smiled gently and led me into the Keep, where exhausted men were finally resting. I remember lying down in a heap, and nothing else.

/

I was woken some hours later by Aragorn. I opened only a single eye and said, through a small smile, "I understand that practise is important…but can we not forget about training today? I think I received plenty of practise last night."

"We're leaving at the end of the hour to find Merry and Pippin." Aragorn said. "Gandalf says it is now safe for them to join us."

"Merry and Pippin…" I sat up. "It's been so long. We've known they're safe, but we haven't actually seen them since the Fellowship broke apart." I said quietly.

"It's a long overdue reunion." Aragorn nodded.

"They'll want to know what happened to Fali and the others."

"Difficult news to bring to them, but needed." Aragorn nodded. "Get up, we'll leave soon."

I nodded, rose to my feet, realised Eowyn had been kind enough to take my boots off my feet and cover me with a blanket as I slept like a dead man, and went to go and finally wash off the dirt that had smothered itself over my arms and face in the battle. I watched the water in the basin I found turn from clear to a dull brown as I splashed it onto my face.

By the time I'd grabbed a bit of breakfast and found my way to the stables, the horses were all saddled and Gandalf was already sitting on Shadowfax, fully prepared to leave. I was surprised to that it was not just our company that was preparing to leave, but Theoden and Eomer as well. "Where are we going?" I thought to ask.

" Back to Fangorn, closer to Isengard." Aragorn answered shortly. "Get on." He nodded to his horse.

"Isengard? But-" I then realised that Isengard would be nearly empty now without it's ten thousand soldiers in it. I quieted myself and mounted the horse.

"Glad to see you've recovered some more, lad." Gimli said, just as we set off. "You looked like you were walking asleep last we saw you. No doubt that's what clouded your judgement earlier." He spoke of my comment that Legolas may have won their little contest. He was glaring lightly at Legolas, who had a shadow of a smirk on his face as well.

"Can the two of you not just be glad that you made it out of that fight alive?" I rolled my eyes. "Fali liked sparring just for the sport of it."

This caused Gimli to grumble for a few seconds about 'obviously winning' and that I was 'playing favorites'.

"Either way, Gimli, you did better than I did." I added.

"You were keeping score as well?" Aragorn asked.

"A bit foolish maybe." I admitted. "But it proved to be a good distraction. There was so much happening at once, it was better to just focus on one more orc after another."

"What number?" Gimli asked.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"How many did you finish off?"

"Oh…" I had to count them off in my head again, thinking over the battle. "Twenty-four by the end of it all."

Gimli hummed in praise. "Twenty-four." He stated again. "Not bad at all. A number to be proud of surely."

"You killed nearly twice as many." I said modestly of the accomplishment.

"You've shown much improvement." Aragorn said. "Don't think I did not notice how you snapped at us when we told you to stay back." He added, more quietly.

"Sorry about that." I muttered the apology quietly back.

"He has." Gimli seemed proud. "Stood by us the entire night, didn't cower away, lived through it all with a score of twenty-four." Gimli smiled. "You've stopped stuttering and mumbling to yourself too. And you've started to grow a beard."

"What?" I asked, surprised.

"A beard, aye." Gimli nodded. "Nothing very much, but it's there."

I began feeling about my face, rubbing one cheek with my palm. My temple was smooth, but my chin and jaw were rougher. "Are you sure it isn't just leftover dirt?" I asked. Perhaps I had not washed as well I thought I did, perhaps I had still been tired.

Eomer laughed at me good-naturedly. "No, young one, it isn't." I rubbed against my cheek even harder, which made him laugh even harder. "Don't act so surprised."

I couldn't believe it. I had been much like my Uncle Kili, unable to grow facial hair, but not even the shadow of a beard that he had. Now it seemed to have miraculously appeared on my face overnight. When I returned home no one would believe it, I'd look so different to them. Fali would be just as surprised as I was now, when she saw me again.

"Your family will be in for a surprise when you see them again." Gimli echoed my thoughts.

Yes…they would be in for a number of surprises. I was the first person that came to mind when one thought of battles or facial hair. Now I had stubble on my cheeks and had lived through a seemingly impossible battle. I briefly wondered if my family would even recognize me.

"Isengard is just beyond." Gandalf spoke after some time, motioning to the top of a black tower which could be seen in the distance.

"Where are they?" I asked. "Surely you didn't ask for them to go into Isengard?"

"They were never very good at listening…" Gandalf heaved a heavy sigh, as though he already knew we would end up finding our two hobbits there. "Come along."

Sure enough, our path did lead us into Isengard which was experiencing…a flood? I could think of no other reason for the great quantity of water. In the deepest sections it would have risen to the middle of my chest, maybe even higher. Then I saw beams that would have been for pulleys and other machines, torn and splintered like they had been tossed about in river rapids. "Must have been quite the storm." I said.

"The dam has broken." Aragorn corrected me.

"Well, that's a better explanation for all this." I said. "Hopefully Merry and Pippin made it out all right, from what Fali told me they're not particularly strong swimmers." I just finished my sentence before I saw a lone willow tree move. I blinked a few times. It moved again. Surely the wind…but no it moved again, not just waving about like in a breeze but taking a step forward, wading through the water. Then it turned, as though it had a body, and looked at me with what could only be described as a face.

"Gandalf, ummm…" I began. "I can't help but notice, some of the trees…." I saw a birch and maple taking steps as well. "Are moving, like people."

"They're Ents, Master Gideon." Gandalf explained shortly. "It seems like we shall find our hobbits soon, I left them under the protection of one such forest shepherd."

As we approached the gate, which was now crumbled and broken, we heard a familiar voice. "Welcome, my lords!...to Isengard!" And there was Merry, living very much up to his name as he stood on top of large wall, a pipe in hand. Beside him sat a grinning Pippin. Aragorn smiled at them, pleased to see them safe and in such good spirits. I found my mouth gaped open a little at just how happy they seemed, in Isengard of all places. Of all the ways we could have found them…there were smiling? And smoking? As though they were enjoying a summer's day in the Shire? My look of surprise turned to a grin. They were safe, that was all that mattered. Fali would have been joyous…and probably boxed their ears for being just a bit too cheerful after causing us so much worry.

"You young rascals! A merry chase you've led us on, and now we find you feasting and… and smoking!" Gimli scolded them.

Pippin, who had probably drunken a little too much, replied "We are sitting on the field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. The salted pork is particularly good."

"Food, of course." I rolled my eyes. Gandalf likewise muttered 'Hobbits' to himself.

Merry explained how Treebeard, the Ent Gandalf had spoken of, had been minding them, and was now 'management of Isengard'. The Ent in question was a tall, sturdy fellow, with a long beard of lichen and moss. Treebeard's voice resembled the bending of boughs in the wind. "Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there's a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower." The Ent gazed up the dark tower, and we all exchanged glances uncomfortably.

Aragorn called out for Saruman to show himself, and Gimli wanted to end the wizard then and there, but Gandalf was wiser, and knew we needed to speak with the dark wizard, meaning he had to be alive.

"You have fought many wars and slain many men Théoden king, and made peace afterwards. Can we not take council together, as we once did, my old friend?" I glanced up to see an old man in white robes, with a harsher face than Gandalf's.

I feared the words may have been some spell to persuade Theoden, but he called back, with growing determination "We shall have peace… peace, but only when you answer for the burning of the westfold, and the people that lie dead there. We shall have peace, but only when the lives of the soldiers, with bodies that were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged! Your army is defeated, and your fortress broken…you hang for the sport of your own crows."

This statement, while well spoken and strong, did not ease any of the growing tension.

Gandalf sought to remedy that. "Your work has cost thousands of lives, Saruman, while you were deep in dark counsel. But you could aid to save thousands more."

Unfortunately, while Saruman was stuck in his tower, he was not foolish. He perceived that Gandalf meant to gather information from him, and I watched from below, as he produced an dark orb from his robes. "Something festers in the heart of Middle-Earth. You have failed to see it. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon." He smirked down at us "You're all going to die. You know this, don't you, Gandalf?"

"Aragorn…" I whispered. "Is he speaking the truth?"

"Pay no attention to what he says." Aragorn replied, tensely.

"The Ranger will never sit upon the throne of Gondor." Saruman continued. "This exile from the shadows will never wear the crown." I found it easier now to pay him no attention. Everything I knew of Aragorn told me he would make for a great king.

"I've heard enough." Gimli growled. "Shoot him." Legolas made to grab an arrow from his quiver, but Gandalf stopped him.

"Come down Saruman, and your life will be spared!" I grimaced at the words, having no desire to travel with Saruman.

"I've no use for your pity or your mercy." The wizard shouted back, and fire followed his words. I flinched behind Aragorn. I looked up, prepared to see singed faces, but everyone was unharmed. The staff in Saruman's hands broke, crumbling into fragments. His shadow moved at stepped forward, and I saw that it was not a shadow but Grima Wormtongue, the man we had encountered in Rohan.

"So this is where he ran off to after we threw him out of the hall." I said. Perhaps it would have been better to let justice run it's course then.

Theoden tried to speak again with Grima. "Come down, Grima, you were once man of Rohan." He called. Grima protested. It was obvious he thought that Saurman was the more powerful master. "Be free of him." Theoden pressed.

These were the words that started the end of wizard.

"He will never be free." Saruman shouted back, and these words seemed to surprise Grima. Had he not suspecting that he would be a servant to this man? No better than a slave? He had not seen it, and the realisation hit him harshly, as he was knocked back by the wizard.

"Saruman, you were deep in the enemy's counsel, tell us what you know." Gandalf made a last attempt.

"Withdraw your guard and I will tell you of your doom." But after these words Saurman's face stiffened, and his skin paled, his mouth open in a silent gasp. His shadow, Grima, moved again, this time revealing a dagger than sank into the wizard's back again.

"Now!" Gimli shouted, and Legolas drew an arrow, and fired it into Grima's heart. The shadow fell away, and Saruman fell forward, landing with a jolting sound on a wheel, and dropping into the water below.

I would never get used to seeing people die.

Pippin slipped down from the horse he was on and wadded through the water, picking up something that seemed to glow. "Pippin." Aragorn gave a sharp warning. The hobbit held up the dark orb that Saruman had held.

Peregrin Took, I'll take that, my lad." Gandalf said. Pippin was reluctant. "Quickly now." The wizard added, and somewhat begrudgingly, Pippin handed over the orb.

We rode back to Edoras, and I found myself rubbing against my jaw again, still bewildered by the coarseness that met my hand. "Ha!" Merry laughed. "We've been gone so long Gideon started to grow a beard."

"Where's Fali?" Pippin asked. "Did she not come with you?"

/

The hobbits had suspected that Boromir had not survived his injuries, and were grieved to hear the news confirmed. They had even seen Frodo dash away and had suspected that as well. But Sam and Fali following had been a bit of a shock to them. They sobered up when they heard tale of the battle we'd hand, and were quick to help in any way they could.

They weren't very bright, and could not help with the wounded much, but their friendly demeanour helped to raise spirits. When all had returned to Edoras there was a celebration, in honor of victory and in remembrance of the fallen, and the two were determined to make sure everyone had a good time.

The beginning of the evening was serious, with words spoken in remembrance, and we hailed the dead, but it quickly became a happy occasion, which was what we so badly needed. I watched as Merry and Pippin drew in a crowd with song, as friends shared drink and food and stories, and Tehoden and Aragorn looked proudly over the bustling hall.

"Gideon." Gimli called me over, motioning to the seat beside him. I eyed Gimli, Legolas, and the pints laid before them. Would these two ever stop competing against each other? Well, it was better than the bickering we had started out with… "Care to join?"

"Me?" I asked. "In a drinking contest? Do you think it wise Gimli?" For my own part, I had a few concerns. I had seen enough of the aftermath of first drinking contests from my older brothers. Frerin had been given a head-splitting migraine, which he used as a punishment on himself to ensure he was never insensible again, not even giving in to a cup of tea the morning after to atone for his stupidity. Fien had been just as sick, but louder when he arrived home, earning him a decent lecture from Mother and a few swats from one of her dancing slippers. He caved in under the pressure building in his skull, drank his remedy, leading to a few more evenings where the contests got out of hand before he gained control.

But me? I'd had ale and wine and such before, but had never indulged in seeing just how much could be consumed in the form of contest. Some part of me cried out to remain rational, and another was curious to see how I would fair, and to be included in the unspoken rite of passage.

"Aye." Gimli beamed. "You've got a beard on your face now, you could try your luck, see how your stomach holds out."

The curiosity won out. "I suppose I could try." I sat down and Eomer placed a pint in front of me. And so the contest began, Gimli quickly gulping down the drink in order to get a lead start. I was more sensible and thought to pace myself at least. I glanced over Legolas, who was only calm, drinking serenely.

The atmosphere remained happy. Pippin and Merry remained on top their table, lungs being put to good use as they belted out songs from the Shire. There was a jubilance in the air, the sort of joy that comes with celebrating the very fact that you're alive. Laughter, food, drink, merriment, song. I was reminded of happy times under the mountain. Yuletides where we would all gather in the Great Hall. Summer evenings with all my 'uncles' sitting at our table. Long nights spread before the fire, all of us children lying on the floor, spent of energy and completely content. The warmth of the ale entering my stomach reminded me of the warmth of those fires. It felt good to be surrounded by it all.

I knew I really had not much hope of winning the contest from the beginning, with the way Gimli drank with gusto, and Legolas remained oddly calm and drank as though he was being handed water the whole time. Toward the end of it, there was a pleasant lightness to my head.

I also came to realise that people will act in certain ways when they've drank a lot of ale. Some become more jubilant, some sleepy, some more out spoken , and others will start to lose their sense. Gimli was the sort of person that fell into the latter category. By the time the table was filled with his empty pints all the ale had seemed to loosen his brain, as well as his tongue. I had stopped drinking, taking only the occasional sip now, observing rather than competing. I listened to Gimli's ramblings about swimming, forges exploding, and a few more tales about his father Gloin. No amount of ale could make him forget those.

I couldn't stop watching Legolas either because he just kept on drinking, and nothing was happening to him. Every time I expected he had finally drank enough, nothing happened to him, and he simply picked up another ale.

Then finally…

"Oh dear, I feel something." And everyone who was watching over the contest looked over to Legolas.

"What?" I asked. "Finally some light-headedness? A full stomach?"

"A slight tingling in my fingertips." Legolas answered. "I think it's beginning to affect me."

At which point Gimli slurred out that the elf couldn't hold his liquor, went a little cross-eyed, and fell back, out cold.

"I win." Legolas stated, looking smug.

"It's partially my fault I suppose." I said, as I looked over Gimli again. "If I'd let him win your contest during the battle, he wouldn't have tried to push himself so hard. Or started a contest at all." I grinned back at the elf. "Tingling in your fingertips, huh?" I smirked, finishing off the last bit of the pint in front of me. "Elves aren't even affected by drink, are they?"

Legolas shook his head. "Not from this ale."

After this I left to enjoy the rest of the merriment. But among the song and dance, the longer the liquor sat in my stomach the more…inebriated…I became. I started off quite jubilant, then became tired, and Eowyn found me just as I began to feel ill. She saw that I had turned pale, and perhaps a little green in hue, and escorted me to the chambers where the Fellowship and I were to sleep. After a brief spell of being sick, I mistook her for Fali, even more so than the last time. She had to gently explain she wasn't my sister, and I ended the night crying into her sleeve as she held me up, missing Fali, and feeling guilt for having such fun while she struggled out in the wild somewhere.

For the second night in a row she had to take off my boots for me, and cover me with a blanket. It wasn't my proudest night, and I vowed I'd both apologize and make up for my behaviour when I was better rested.

I dreamt that night of home.