Stone eventually gave way to earth once more, at which point Kili couldn't fail to notice the worried looks the more experienced trackers were shooting each other.

"What's wrong?" he asked, bracing for the worst.

"If I have read the signs aright, they carry only two hobbits with them," Aragorn said heavily.

"Then the others are still lost back in the canyons," Kili said.

"Or gone to Mandos in truth," Elladan said grimly. "Either way, they are beyond our reaching. We do not have the supplies to turn back now."

The aftermath of a skirmish was hardly what they'd expected to find, but anything that thinned the ranks of the orcs was welcome.

What was more surprising was the turn the trail then took. Not toward Mordor, but towards Rohan.

"Saruman," Elrohir concluded. He tossed an orc helmet marked with a white hand down in disgust. "It seems we'll have a chance to express our displeasure with him personally after all."

"And all must not be well in that unholy alliance," Elladan said with grim satisfaction.

"Yet I would no more let Saruman have the Ring than I would Sauron, and he will be little kinder to his guests. And added to these concerns, the Ring may now be headed the wrong way, costing time we do not have," Aragorn said.

Kili knelt and picked up a small buckle of dwarvish make. "Merry wore this," he said. His hand curled around it until the metal bit into his palm. "The others could have the Ring and be on their way there now."

"They could," Aragorn said.

None of them had much hope.

They reached the river that guarded the border of Rohan to find the aftermath of a battle, this time between the Rohirrim and orcs instead of a result of orcish squabbling.

The path made by four bare feet ran deep into the woods.

"I am Quickbeam, for I am ever a bit too . . . hasty."

Hasty was not really the word Pippin would use, but he thought it probably better not to contradict such a very large talking tree.

"And who and what might you be? You are not orcs, I hope. I would . . . hate . . . to have been hasty again."

Pippin was suddenly very glad that he and Merry had no elvish weapons with them, a sentiment he would not at all have expected a few hours ago. "Not orcs!" he said. "Hobbits! Just hobbits!"

Now please don't ask what hobbits are.

As relieved as he was to see Gandalf again, Aragorn felt he had to contradict him. "I am relieved to hear Merry and Pippin are safe, but we cannot leave the Ring's fate unknown."

"They do not have it," Gandalf said. "The Ring's fate lies with Sam and Frodo now."

"They're alive then?" Kili demanded.

Gandalf hesitated. "We must trust that they are."

Elrohir sighed. "As encouraging as ever, Mithrandir."

Their journey went on, first to Edoras and the on the long, dangerous journey to Helm's Deep.

The lethally dangerous road.

Elrohir slammed his blade through the orc's throat. Elladan was already peering over the edge of the cliff.

"Any sign?" Kili asked.

"None. The river below has washed away any trace."

Elrohir's shoulders hunched. "We just got him back." The elf's voice was heavy with grief.

Elladan was still examining the scene, judging the river's depth and the scalability of the cliff. The results made him straighten.

"We haven't lost him yet," he said firmly. "Stay here and help the people to their stronghold. I'll return with Estel as soon as I may."

Then, with nothing more than the pack on his back, Elladan swung himself over the side of the cliff and began to climb down.

Kili gaped at him for a moment before turning to Elrohir. "How much hope is there?"

A flash of bleak humor went through the elf's eyes. "About six feet."

"Yes, because puns are exactly what we need right now," he grumbled. "I do know some Sindarin, thank you."

If they joked, then the situation wasn't that serious. If it wasn't serious, Aragorn would live.

The horse found him first. Elladan found the horse, and blessed whoever had failed to restrain him.

Aragorn was cold and still, but there was breath in him yet. Elladan took off his own cloak and wrapped it around him.

"Come on, little brother. Don't leave me yet."

Their triumphant return to the city did not go unmarked. "You made it!" Kili cheered.

"We did," Aragorn said. "And in enough time to bring warning despite Elladan's mothering." He clapped a hand to Kili's shoulder. "I'm glad to see you made it as well."

Elrohir walked forward, exchanging nods with his brother before locking eyes with Aragorn.

"Never again," he said.

Aragorn inclined his head. "I will do my best."

"At least it wasn't for decades this time," Kili said cheerily.

"You have a point," Elrohir admitted. "But it was still too long."

They survived Helm's Deep and marched on to Isengard where at last they saw Merry and Pippin again. The hobbits flew down their mountain of loot to greet them. They flung themselves first at Kili, then at Aragorn, and then, after a moment's pause, greeted the twins thus too. Elladan and Elrohir were delighted.

"But where are Frodo and Sam?" Pippin asked. Merry flinched in clear expectation of an unfavorable answer.

"Mordor," Gandalf said as he rode up to them. "Or so we must hope."

Camping outside the Paths of the Dead was not a comfortable proposition. Nor were the looks Aragorn kept shooting the mountain.

Elladan caught him examining his reforged sword in the moonlight.

"Ada brought it with us at what seemed a whim at the time," Elladan said quietly. "Now it seems clear it was foresight. He always hoped he'd be able to give it to you."

Aragorn turned the blade over in his hands. "When he gave it to me, he advised me to take the Paths of the Dead if the chance came."

"Ah. Well, I suppose you'll feel right at home there, twice dead as you've been. Elrohir and I will just have to do our best."

Aragorn looked up sharply.

"We're coming with you, of course," Elrohir said as he stepped from the shadows. "Kili?"

Kili shook his head. "Someone has to stay here and keep Merry out of trouble."

"Out of trouble," Aragorn repeated wryly in the Houses of Healing.

Kili shrugged, to all appearances unbothered by the blood trickling down his face. "I kept the Easterlings off him while he and Eowyn killed the Witch King."

"No activity that involves the Witch King counts as 'out of trouble,'" Elladan put in.

"Unless the activity is avoiding. Which is now rather unnecessary thanks to your combined efforts, so well done," Elrohir said.

Elladan shot a flat look at his brother.

And then there was nothing more they could do but charge and hope that there were still hobbits living to need the distraction.

Deep in Mount Doom, there were.

Aragorn's coronation was a lively affair enjoyed by all. That number included Elrond and a number of elves from Imladris, there to help with the healing and to escort the twins when they finally headed for home.

Arwen was among them.

"They've been dancing together a lot this evening," Elladan said a bit uneasily.

Elrohir's brow furrowed. "They did only meet the once . . . right?"

Kili and the hobbits returned to the mountain and to a feast celebrating both their victory and the mountain's.

Bilbo was overjoyed to see Frodo again even if his eyes were more haunted than before. Thorin was equally happy to see his own nephew.

"I've letters from all sorts of important people, but they can wait," Kili said. "What's the news from here?"

He was bombarded with stories from the battle before -

"And Gimli over here made friends with an elf, so you're not quite so weird anymore," Fili said with a grin.

"Aye, I lead a company to victory in Mirkwood, spend a week in the woods with naught but Legolas to help fight the tide of beasts and things best left nameless, rescue a full dozen elves, and the king of Mirkwood himself, and that's the bit you focus on!" Gimli grumbled. "So I made friends with an elf. What of it?"

"They fight like they've been protecting each others' back for decades," Fili informed him. "It's creepy."

"Also," Thorin said wryly, "King Thranduil has withdrawn his objection to you marrying one of his people. As I have long withdrawn my own, that leaves only the lady to be convinced. Congratulations."

"You could have led with that!"

Late in the night, Bilbo and Thorin were settled into the armchairs around the fire in Bilbo's rooms. Bilbo sat close to warm him old bones.

"Frodo's not well, poor lad," he sighed. "It was a lot to ask of one little hobbit."

"Hobbits are stronger than they look," Thorin said firmly. "He'll recover."

"I do hope so." Bilbo puffed his pipe thoughtfully. "And if he doesn't, there's always the offer."

Thorin frowned. "The offer?"

"Gandalf sent word," Bilbo explained. "He'll be sailing in a few years, apparently, once things settle down. He's offered . . . Well, he's offered to take any ringbearers who wish to with him."

"Do you wish to?" Thorin asked carefully.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But it is nice, very nice indeed, to be asked. To be permitted to sail West! Ha! We are truly free of him now. It is nice to know that we are not as hopelessly forgotten as we thought. And who knows? If Tauriel catches the sea longing, a dwarf might sail as well. Gandalf hinted that it could be done."

"Not forgotten after all," Thorin said softly. "Aye. There's worth in that."