25 / 9 /16 ~ In which Eleanor & Gandalf have a chat about memories, truth, euphemisms, and squatters.

Disclaimer: "The Lord of the Rings" is the property of J. R. R. Tolkien. I only claim ownership over Eleanor Dace, Rávamë (aka "Tink"), and the subsequent plot of their story.

A/N: I'm baaaaack! For those of you who follow me on either Tumblr or Twitter you'll know that my time in Canada and Cali was really therapeutic, as well as productive! Note — getting stuck for four hours in an airport with nothing to do is a great way to get over writers block.

As always, the usually mountain of thanks and gratitude for those who left me with reviews/feedback while I was away: ChilliLemons, nightange1, thesonicsmiley, Melissa Fairy, MintBonBon, tyrantOFathens, luna153, Nevermore186, LittleApollyon, Arienis, Imamc, silverwolfwarrior13, Trench gun, Hana-Lizzie-Chan, NeoMulder, Candyslayergirl, FrlBarth, H2Ogirl, nevergreen, Erwynia, Arasa17, Japkot, K.Y.1234, BoltonBornRocker, LadyBritish, Havane 31, AcquisitiveMargo, N7SpaceHamster, Becka3490, Shiningheart of ThunderClan, shara-frost, iamawesome, Peppei, zazanga, Quentasia, Kat, Katherine Sparrow, HassleCastle, Angrypancakegoddess, Lunaelt, aromatic truth, and guests.

Now that I'm firmly back at home, as a thanks for being so patient while I was having some down time, I've got two fresh new chapters for you! This first one will be posted in the evening UK time, and the next one I'm planning to post tomorrow morning as soon as I'm done checking it.

Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy. :)

Part I : Chapter 6

- Many Rude Awakenings -

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." ― Marilyn Monroe

Waking up from a dream in which you're drowning is never exactly pleasant. Though all things considered, my return to reality was as gentle as I could have hoped for.

I sucked in a glorious breath of musty, dank forest air as my eyes flew open, my body automatically going to sit up and check I really wasn't still miles under dark seawater. That plan was well and truly scuppered when my forehead collided with a low hanging branch of the tree I'd been curled under. Pain fired through my head, and I hissed out a curse

At least, if I hadn't been before, I was wide awake now.

Thankfully I hadn't seemed to have woken anyone else up with my dopey antics. All around me, the camp we'd set up at the edge of a clear patch of grass between the trees and a small cliff was bathed in moonlight. I could hear Gimli snoring somewhere off to my left, Boromir snuffling somewhere beyond that, along with Aragorn's slow steady breaths. As my eyes adjusted, I could also just about see Legolas leaning back against a nearby tree on my right, not far from where I lay. His eyes were half open, but he was looking up at the stars with a glazed look in his face, his figure entirely relaxed. He was finally taking a deep, proper and well-earned rest; the sight brought a relieved smile to my face before I could suppress it.

Just beyond him, I could just about see that Gandalf had taken the watch. He was standing near the still lowly crackling fire, puffing leisurely on his pipe as he stared out over the trees below the cliff.

I felt my own body truly relax for what felt like the first time in weeks at the sight and sound of all but four of my companions around me, the last of my worries being chased away as a fresh wave of tiredness hit me. Reassured that I was unlikely to be plagued by anymore bizarre dreams, I lay quietly back down on my patch of forest again, curling up on the soft grass facing Legolas' tree.

I was just about to close my eyes when the sound of someone else stirring caught my attention.

Lifting my head curiously, I saw Aragorn sitting up from his own chosen sleeping spot on the grass. He got to his feet, and moved near silently over to stand by the old smoking Wizard.

"You cannot sleep?" Gandalf asked quietly, puffing out a stream of smoke that turned into a silver trio of fluttering moths around him. Aragorn paused to watch the dancing smoke figures slowly disperse for a moment before letting out a long sigh.

"I rarely can lately," he murmured, looking out over the moon-bathed forest. Gandalf took another drag on his piped and eyed him sideways.

"What troubles you so, Aragorn?"

I saw Aragon fold his arms across his chest and chuckle somewhat bitterly. He glanced over his shoulder back towards us all, and I quickly dropped my head back onto where it had been pillowed on my arm, pretending to still be at least half asleep.

"What doesn't trouble me may be a better question; though it's likely the same thing that still troubles you, old friend, despite your miraculous return."

Gandalf rumbled a quiet laugh, and I could see little puffs of wispy smoke coming out of his nose — and ears — through the dark. He coughed lightly through a smile, thumped a fist against his chest to clear it, and extinguished his pipe with a quiet, ominous hiss.

"Sadly, I fear you may be correct. And I fear there are few words of comfort I may offer to ease that worry," he exhaled, long and deep. "The veiling shadow that glowers in the East is beginning to take shape at last. Sauron will suffer no rival, and from the summit of Barad-dur, his Eye is watching ceaselessly. But he is not so mighty yet that he is above fear. Doubt ever gnaws at him now. The rumour has finally reached him that the blood of Númenor still lives."

I watched curiously as Gandalf turned his glinting blue eyes over his shoulder towards the rest of us, then on Aragorn, though the other man seemed unusually reluctantly to return the stare.

"Sauron fears you, Aragorn. He fears what you may become, given the chance. So he'll strike hard and fast at the world of Men. He will use his puppet Saruman to destroy Rohan," the Wizard went on, turning his eyes away when it became obvious Aragorn was not going to reply.

"War is coming. Rohan must be ready to defend itself, and therein lies our first challenge. The king's mind has been all but enslaved. His hold over Theoden is very strong, and will not be easily broken. Saruman and Sauron are tightening the noose, and yet we still have one advantage. The Ring remains hidden. Each day the greatest weapon of the Enemy moves ever closer to Mount Doom, in the hands of a single Hobbit."

Aragorn shifted, as if uncomfortable, and Gandalf seemed to noticed because he turned away from the view too peer at the other man out of the corner of his eye.

"Do not regret your decision to leave him, Aragorn," he said quietly. "Frodo knows he must finish this task alone."

"He's not alone," Aragorn murmured instantly, and when Gandalf gave him a confused expression he went on a little stronger than before. "Sam went with him."

There was a weighted silence through which I could all but feel Gandalf's surprise, tinged with a relief, and something close to pride.

"Did he? Did he indeed…" he murmured, and I could hear the smile as his tone warmed with hope. "Good, that is good."

~ Ω ~

"One stage of your journey is over, another begins. We must travel out of this place, then ride to Edoras with all haste," Gandalf told us early the next morning as we all followed him towards the edge of the forest.

A little bleary-eyed and walking behind Gimli and Aragorn, I was still in the process of waking up from the long night of restless sleep and eavesdropping on the forest floor. A small yawn escaped me as I trudged along ahead of Legolas and Boromir, but it was only when Gimli chimed in that I actually realised exactly where Gandalf said were headed.

"Edoras?" the Dwarf exclaimed loudly, sounding not at all thrilled by the idea. "That is no short distance, especially to cross on foot."

I couldn't say I was ecstatic with the idea of even more cross country running either, not after the strange night I'd had. But Gandalf didn't seem at all phased by the idea, and I had to wonder if his new form was kitted out with stronger running legs, or if he was just waiting to surprise us all with an easier means of getting to the other side of Rohan.

I was sincerely hoping for the latter.

"We have heard of trouble in Rohan," Legolas said from behind me, though unlike me, he didn't sound the slightest bit tired. In fact he sounded better than I'd heard him ever since we left Lothlórien. Gandalf paused to peer at us over one shoulder and Aragorn nodded.

"We crossed paths with Éomer. He said that the king is not himself."

Gandalf made a noise of agreement.

"Indeed, and he will not easily be cured of what ails him," he answered, turning to fix Aragorn with a serious look. "Saruman was among the most skilled of all the Maiar at understanding and manipulating the minds of others. His grip on the king's thoughts will not easily be broken, and we cannot afford to waste any more time."

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" Gimli blurted again, sounding appalled as well as tired. "Are we really to turn around and leave those poor Hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested—"

A couple of cedars and one large, gnarled oak made a low groaning sound, their branches creaking and knocking together ominously overhead. Gimli jumped, clutching his axe a little tighter.

"I mean charming! Quite charming forest!" he squeaked.

I grinned and let out a chuckle.

"I think you hurt their feelings, Gimli."

The Dwarf scowled back at me, though halfheartedly. I shrugged, patting the trunk of the oak as I passed it, trying not to jump myself when one of it's branches affectionally brushed the top of my messy bed-hair.

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power with many lost secrets has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that signal the oncoming of an avalanche," Gandalf continued to explain softly, glancing thoughtfully out into the gradually lightening forest around us. I saw a genuine smile tug at the corner of Aragorn's mouth as he came up beside our returned Wizard.

"There is one thing that has not changed about you, old friend," he said through the small smirk, and Gandalf raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Aragorn inclined his head, his smile warming. "You still speak in riddles."

Gandalf's face split into a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with laughing lines as he looked back at us all, then around at the quietly creaking trees overhead.

"Something is going to happen soon that has not happened for an age. The Ents are going to wake up — and with them, all the strength and ancient memories of this forest that once covered half of Middle Earth."

"Strength?" Gimli wheezed, looking untrustingly up at the surrounding trees. "Oh, that is… good."

"So cease your fretting, Master Dwarf," Gandalf stated bluntly, jabbing an imperious finger at Gimli before striding off towards what I assumed was the edge of the forest. "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact they're a lot safer than you're about to be!"

Gimli grumbled something in Khuzdul I didn't understand, but could easily guess the generally gist of.

"Is it just me? Or does this new Gandalf seem more grumpy than the old one?" he mumbled to me as I came up behind him. I smiled, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder as I hurried to catch up to where Gandalf had allowed Aragorn to start leading the way. We were obviously nearing the edge of the forest again because the light between the trees was getting brighter, and the ground wasn't presenting me with quite so many tripping hazards.

Even so, as I moved to walk up beside the Wizard, I ended up stumbling over my own words instead of twigs and leaves. I knew vaguely what I wanted to ask, but I didn't really know how…

Gandalf glanced sideways at me as we grew just far enough away from Aragorn ahead and Legolas behind that we wouldn't be heard.

"Ask your question, child. Before it starts devouring you from the inside out," he said gently.

I snapped my mouth shut where I realised it had fallen open to speak and simply stayed that way when nothing came out. Instead, I chewed my lip in thought for a moment, before deciding that overthinking how best to say what I needed wasn't going to do any good. And anyway, bluntness had served me well thus far.

I looked at him straight in the eye.

"How long have you know about her?" I asked, Tink and I both watching his reaction very carefully.

He knew who I meant instantly. I know he did, because he didn't so much as blink in feigned confusion or glare at me in reprimand. Not even a half-hearted tilt of the head.

"Since I first saw you, in Lord Elrond's Council hall," he answered simply, without a trace of shame, though he said it very quietly.

I stared at him, reeling, stunned, and livid all at the same time — but somehow not surprised either.

"Bloody hell!" I cursed silently, running a hand over my face, trying to quell the sudden burst of anger before aiming a wrathful glare at him. "All this time? Why didn't you say something back then? I asked you!"

Gandalf's calm composure didn't drop but he gave me a serious glance that spoke more than his tone.

"I held my tongue for the same reason Lady Galadriel did, Eleanor."

A scoff escaped me before I could reel it in.

"Don't tell me my past self bullied you into a blood oath of silence too," I snapped incredulously.

"No," he said, infuriatingly patient and serene. "But my reasons for remaining silent were equally grave, if not more. I knew you would discover the truth of your companion eventually, but it was imperative that you do it on your own, without outside interference. Especially mine."

"Why?"

Gandalf gave me a long look, neither angry, nor frustrated — but I somehow got the impression he was a little exasperated that I needed to ask the question at all. Fine by me. He could lecture on stupid questions all he liked whenever he decided to stop talking in mystical enigma-code.

"She," he said slowly, very deliberately not using Tink — or rather Rávamë's — real name aloud, "Is a creature similar to myself in nature, and we can be easily influenced and changed by the shared knowledge and emotions of the form we inhabit. In my case, an aged, but mortal man. It is our nature. Therefore I thought it best she remain as akin to you as possible, for both your benefits, which meant I could not directly interfere with either of you, even to quell your curiosity."

Well, if nothing else I supposed that explained Tink and my shared cynical sense of humour and dry wit.

I looked at him seriously, only speaking when I was sure no one was near enough to hear.

"Your nature," I repeated slowly. "The nature of what you and she both are, right? Maiar?"

He nodded soberly.

"Precisely."

I let out a long exhale — partly to calm myself a bit, but also to give myself time to think.

I knew he wasn't lying to me, not about believing keeping the secret about Tink from me anyway. But some part of me also felt sure that he was deliberately keeping something else crucial from me — some important piece I was still missing in this frustrating, perilous puzzle that had somehow become my life.

Tempting as it was though, I knew full well if I hadn't been able to persuade him to tell me before, there was no way in hell I was going to be able to do it now. So I just made a disgusted noise and threw up my hands in defeat.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more unhelpfully cryptic, you go fall down a giant hole, kill a fiery demon monster, and then come back as bloody Dumbledore."

That actually got a real rolling laugh out of him, and I had to wonder whether he was laughing at me, or he somehow had actually understood the Harry Potter reference. Hey, weirder things had happened. Either way I couldn't help but smile back weakly as we walked, turning to look back at the path that was gradually clearing the further we went.

"So, to summarise; I know who and what she is now, but still not how she ended up as, ur… my tenant I guess. So, now what?"

Tink made a sputtering noise from the back of my head.

'Tenant?' she exclaimed. 'You're my landlady now are you, boss?'

'Of course not, duckie,' I answered sweetly, with an internal smile. 'Landladies get paid rent. You're a squatter at best.'

Tink snorted imperiously at that, but I could hear her grin. She fell pointedly silent though when Gandalf glanced ahead of us at Aragorn, and then subtly over his shoulder back at where Legolas and Gimli were speaking several paces behind us.

"Now? What you choose to do with the knowledge you have is entirely up to you. The choice to pursue your past has always been yours. I would not presume to tell you — either of you — what you should or shouldn't do with the knowledge you have acquired."

He turned his gaze back to me, and his blue eyes seemed to deepen with seriousness — a look that gave the words far more weight than they otherwise might have had. "However, I would advise caution. I'm sure I don't need me to tell you that, while the choice remains yours, regaining the memories you seek may cause you more hurt than you anticipate. You… and others close to you both."

I stared at him for a moment, then I sighed in a long and tired exhale, nodding in neither agreement nor disagreement.

"So everyone keeps saying," I said a little grumpily, tapping the side of my head with my finger. "Thanks, but you're literally preaching to the semi-converted here, Gandalf. I've already been given that lecture once today, and I'm taking it under advisement."

Gandalf paused in his stride, not long enough for anyone but me to notice, but long enough to know that what I'd just said had struck him off guard. I looked up at him to find him staring at me, an uncharacteristic look on his face — halfway between surprise and quiet anxiousness. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, swallowed, then tried again.

"She… speaks to you regularly, does she?" he asked very quietly.

"We both speak to each other," I corrected immediately, a bit put out by his reaction, but surprising myself with how easily the words came. "She's kept me alive when I should have died, probably more times than I know. She's… a friend."

Gandalf went completely still this time.

So did Tink.

I could feel her surprise mingling with mine through our bond, and it only thinly masked her sudden surge of unexpected, quiet happiness beneath it. Hell, I hadn't realised how happy those words had made me too until I felt myself smiling.

Smiling because they'd been true, and effortlessly honest.

I hastily beat the expression back though when I glanced sideways and saw the frown lines and shadows on Gandalf's face deepening. He unfroze and continued moving, sinking back into thought as he did.

"I… see," he murmured to himself, before turning his attention back to me. "Then I must ask you this. Have you told your other companions of her yet?"

An icy twinge of guilt right below the ribs caught me off guard. I hadn't thought much about the secret burden of my human life since Lothlórien — since I'd shared it with the Hobbits.

I looked down at the ground ahead of me, chewing my lip until I felt the still-healing cut on my lip sting in protest.

"I told Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin about my, ur… less-pointy-eared-life on Earth. But I only found out the truth about her after Merry and Pippin were taken," I told him quietly, being carful to phrase the words just in case.

Gandalf nodded, seeming pleased by my answer.

"And the other four?" he asked, inclining his head subtly towards Aragorn ahead of us, and Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli behind.

I glanced ahead to where Aragorn was clearing the way through some thickets, thinking back to the last time in Lothlórien when I'd actually considered talking about the life I'd left behind when I awoke in that cave. The life I was still desperately seeking a way back to, even if my path to find it had meandered and twisted a bit along the way. Back then, there had been no question in my mind that my time on Earth needed to be kept under wraps, if for no other reason than to stop Aragorn from forcing me to remain behind.

But now…

Now, I wasn't entirely sure why the idea of telling the truth made my insides go so cold — but it did. Back then I'd had travelling companions in those surrounding me, nothing more.

Now I had friends, and the idea alone of revealing exactly how much I'd truly been keeping from them all this time, the idea of seeing their reactions, was enough to make my stomach twist with nausea.

"Not yet, I haven't found the right moment," I admitted reluctantly, making myself look away from Aragorn's back. Instead I turned just enough to make sure the other three were still far enough behind to remain out of earshot. "Though I think Boromir… I think he might have seen something, when I was healing him."

Gandalf didn't look back, though his pause before answering said he was very aware of the Man in question following behind us. Instead he continued to look at me, his eyes understanding but still stern.

"What do you believe he saw exactly?" he asked, as I looked away.

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "But he's not been himself around me since we both woke up a few days ago. He seems convinced that what I did was unnatural somehow."

Gandalf paused again to consider my words before speaking even more sternly than before.

"In that case, I would inform the others of your situation sooner than later, were I you. A time might come when you are unable to explain away her presence in you, as well as her drive to keep you both alive and protected from harm."

I exhaled a heavy sigh and rubbed my temple.

"All this talking in euphemisms is making my head spin," I muttered, trying to ease the dread at the idea welling up inside me. Against my will, I took a quick glance over my shoulder at where Boromir was still walking blank-faced at the back of our line, and the sensation of guilt mixed with cold dread only intensified.

"You know," I murmured so quietly it was almost a whisper, "I really thought for a while that maybe, by saving him, Merry or Pippin would—"

Gandalf placed a warm hand on my shoulder and I stopped for half a step to look up at him. He wasn't smiling, but there was familiar, gentle kindness in his blue eyes.

"Sparing one life does not mean the equivalent exchange of another, Eleanor. It is a sad reality that the world has never been that kind," he said, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Do not regret your decision to save him. What you did was incredibly brave and selfless, and those are rare enough traits to find in any one person in these times. He will see that too, in time."

I bit my lip and looked away, unable to articulate exactly how much I wanted to believe those words — but also how not brave and not selfless I really felt right now.

Honestly, I felt the exact opposite of all those things. Especially moments after realising exactly what a gigantic info-bomb I was still keeping from my other unsuspecting friends — and was still unable to think of a way to tell them without losing the precarious trust they'd all given me since Lothlórien. But instead of trying to put all of that into words, I just quirked an anaemic smile up at the old White Wizard and sighed.

"Thanks," I said, though even I could tell from my tone that my heart wasn't in it. Still, Gandalf returned my smile as we continued walking together, and as I looked at him, another curious thought came to me.

"Gandalf, how exactly do you know all of this? Not just about Boromir, Merry, and Pippin I mean. About everything with me, and her, and—"

I risked another peek back at Legolas and Gimli. The Dwarf was still clutching his axe rather tightly, and eyeing the surrounding trees in suspicion. Legolas was trying, and failing to hide a laughing smile, and when he looked up and caught my eye, he gave me a tiny grin of shared amusement that made my spine tingle. I felt warmth rise up my neck to my ears at that look, a smile of my own creeping onto my mouth, and quickly averted my eyes before the heat could show in my cheeks.

Beside me I saw Gandalf's lip twitch into that annoying knowing smile of his, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. He chuckled softly at me.

"I am a very old man, Eleanor. And I also happen to be a Wizard, one of the Istari. I have seen a thing or two about how the power balance of the world ebbs and flows, the dangers that come with too much knowledge too quickly, and abilities who's costs run deeper than you may realise," he said, reminding me suddenly of the way my grandfather had used to smile gently when he caught me doing something cheeky. "And I also know a little of the way two people's opinions of each other can change quite drastically given the right circumstances."

My face burned as I scowled.

"That's a rather flowery way of saying; 'Sorry, I can't tell you anything helpful,' " I commented dryly, deliberately ignoring his last comment, though I could still feel my cheeks flushing. The corners of Gandalf's eyes crinkled with amusement.

"True, though as a Wizard I cannot deny that I have certain fondness for the dramatic."

That got a quiet laugh out of me — a small one, but an honest one.

I felt the familiar gaze of the one Gandalf had been subtly teasing me about on the back of my neck, and tempting as it was to turn and look back at him, I made myself keep facing ahead. A lot of what Gandalf had said had felt important, and I wanted time to mull it over and commit it to memory without my Prince Charming muddling my brain with his stupid handsome face…

It took me a good five seconds to realised I'd actually thought the words my Prince Charming, and very nearly walked face-first into a low hanging branch.

Dammit, that was definitely not the train of thought I needed to be on right now.

I didn't dare look back over my shoulder at him or any of the others for the rest of the walk through the forest. Instead, I found myself humming that haunting little tune Tink and I had heard the night before. A near-silent little melody to myself under my breath as I thought of what Gandalf had said. I suppose I half hoped that the sound of my own voice humming it might trigger a fleeting memory, or some kind of recollection of where I'd heard it before.

Sadly, it didn't, so I just focused on committing what I could recall of it to memory — just in case I heard or needed it again later.

A few more low hanging branches and one very precarious tree root later, we finally reached the edge of Frangorn. Bright morning sunlight poured down through the thinning braces and made my eyes sting, but it was a blissful feeling to have the sun's warmth on my face again after the closeness of the forest. Stepping out of the tree-line a few seconds later, the forest gave way to familiar, rolling, sun-bathed hills dotted with stones, bushes and miles of shifting grasslands of green and gold. Given any other circumstance, I could have happily stood there and enjoyed the view and fresh air, with my face tilted up to the sun, for hours.

"Daylight, at last. That is a welcome sight indeed," I heard Gimli murmur near silently from beside me as he and Leglas came to a stop out of the tree line. Then, he added with his usual gruff cynicism, "Though not an especially reassuring one on its own. Edoras is a long way from here, and our mounts have clearly long since fled."

Gandalf suddenly let out the loudest whistle I'd ever heard only a couple of feet from my ear, and I very nearly flew out of my skin. Rubbing my offended ear, I threw the old man a sharp glare, but he simply smiled and gestured with his staff towards the distance.

Annoyed, but also curious, I relented and looked in the direction he'd indicated along with the others.

Legolas and I saw it first, although the full meaning of what we were seeing was clearly lost on me. While Legolas' jaw dropped open in astonishment, all I saw was a large, albeit near unnaturally white stallion cantering over the crest of a hill, its long mane billowing in the light breeze.

"What is that?" I asked stupidly, watching the beautiful, regal looking horse slowing to a graceful trot straight towards us.

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell," he explained with a disbelieving tone, as if he wasn't fully convinced at what he was seeing.

The huge, icy-white stallion came to a stop before Gandalf and leaned his head down towards the old man in what was unmistakably a bow of greeting. Gandalf beamed as he inclined his own head, reaching up a hand to run it affectionally over the impressive horse's neck.

"He is Shadowfax," he told us, still smiling warmly at the creature like a long lost friend. "He is the lord of all horses, and has been my companion through many dangers."

Shadowfax gave a little nicker of agreement, nuzzling his nose affectionately into Gandalf's shoulder. Then he raised his giant head and gave a loud whinny, the sound echoing through the trees and over the nearby hills like cathedral bells. Ten seconds later, three familiar shapes appeared over the top of a rocky outcrop, coming quickly towards us. Only when they were within a few hundred meters of us did I realise they were our three missing mounts — Hasufel, Arod, and Nymue trotting happily up to come behind Shadowfax, like his own personal herd of obedient tag-alongs.

I gaped from the cheerfully approaching horses, to Shadowfax, then to Gandalf.

"How did—?"

"Wizard, Eleanor," he said by way of explanation, with a playful, twinkling little smile that quickly vanished as he moved towards the horses. "Come, all of you, there is no time left to waste."

'Show off,' Tink muttered grudgingly from the back of my head, but she didn't sound so peeved as to suggest turning down the ride. Edoras was on the other side of Rohan from us — and just like Gandalf has said — we both knew all too well that none of us had any more time or energy left to waste.

A/N: Onward to the home of the horse-lords! Next chapter will be up tomorrow. :)