Chapter Thirty-Four: Black As Night

It was late.

So late in fact that the moon had reached its highest peak and was starting its decent.

Those among the camp that had been lucky enough to find sleep moved about fitfully and were woken every hour, on the hour by the howling of wolves.

It would start with one howl, soon to be joined by three others and then more until all at once the sound filled the desolate land, bouncing eerily off the black rocks and echoing long after the beasts had died down.

They never sounded close enough to warrant a call to arms, but weapons were kept tightly in hand none-the-less; for in the night many things lurked just out of reach.

Half-seen shadows wandered while skulking creatures prowled.

A gnarled, pale grey arm here.

A mangled, disembodied face there.

Bulbous and milky eyes that would reflect the light for less than a second before vanishing.

All appearing in the corner of their eyes but disappearing when faced with, as if they were never there at all.

Tess rubbed her tired brown eyes, trying to wipe away the image of the ghostly figure that might have been beyond the rocks she had been watching, wondering if her fatigue was affecting her sight.

Her body shivered and she frowned down at her boots.

The air was still and there was not so much as a puff of breeze. The temperature had dropped and a bitter cold had managed to permeate the camp, seeping into the soldiers and stealing away their warmth despite the numerous fires they had lit.

"You should sleep in your wagon,"

She snorted and jumped at the sound of Legolas' voice and blearily opened her eyes, only to realize that her head had awkwardly dropped to her chest in a weak doze.

A quick glance around the camp told her that nothing had changed and she decided that even if she did wake again in a little while she would be much more comfortable in her wagon of fur (even if most of the fur was no longer in the wagon, instead handed about as blankets to ward off the chill).

"Mmhm," she replied to Legolas, bobbing her head and heaving herself to her feet and shuffling towards the storage tent. The blonde Elf placed a soft hand on her shoulder as she passed, a silent version of 'sleep well', and made his way back to the map tent. Which tonight was used for people to gather and sit rather than to read maps in.

She glanced over her shoulder one last time before moving the tent flap aside and ducking through. It was much darker in here, the canvas walls blocking out most of the firelight and leaving the tent dim.

With a yawn that almost dislodged her jaw it was so large she moved towards the wagon on the left side of the tent, shucking off her boots near the wheel before climbing in.

Her sword she unclipped from her belt so that it could be beside her as she slept, incase she needed to reach for it quickly. That settled she untied her cloak, wrapping herself up like a red burrito before hunkering down and closing her eyes.

She dozed for what could only have been an hour, woken but not startled by the wolves howling again, and after that she just lay still.

She was comfortable but no longer able to sleep, her eyes tracing patterns in the grain of the wood for what could have been minutes or hours before staring blankly beyond.

In a way she was grateful for her lack of sleep, because if her eyes had been closed she wouldn't have noticed the spot of light on the canvas wall of her tent.

Light that could only be there if it was reflecting off of something metallic.

Something like a knife.

Her socked feet pushed against the side of the wagon and she hurled herself out, escaping a wicked looking dagger that was promptly imbedded where her face had been only seconds ago. She hit the ground hard and barely had time to stand when her attacker was upon her. He was dressed in black and dark maroon, a hood pulled low over his head while a mask hid his mouth and nose. His eyes glinted in the low light, so dark in colour that they looked completely black. And so utterly deadly.

Yet surprised, like he wasn't expecting...well, her.

In each hand he held daggers that looked to be around ten inches long, both wickedly sharp and slightly curved.

She used the bracers on her forearms to deflect his barrage of attacks as best she could, all the while knowing that she desperately needed to arm herself and fast. Her sword was still in the wagon, buried somewhere underneath her red cloak, but she did have a knife strapped to her calf and if she just had a moment she could reach for it. Her attacker thrust a blade at her head and she ducked only slightly back, grabbing his left wrist with both hands and twisting it to make him drop the blade, before tugging it down across their bodies to her left hip. As predicted he stepped across with his left foot to re-gain his balance, leaving his left side wide open. Her foot rose and she kicked him hard in the ribs with her right heel. The man stumbled back and she used those few precious seconds to grasp the hilt of her own blade, drawing it just in time to block the next attack.

Metal screeched as the blade in his right hand cut down in an arc intended for her face but was stopped by her blade. Her left foot swung out for his open right side at the same time his left hand swung towards her face.

They both bounced back to avoid the attacks, taking only a split second to find their feet before going back in.

There was a long moment where blows were traded, their blades bouncing off one another as they used their feet and hands to try and knock the other back and down.

With all her focus on the man and his fast paced attacks it did not even occur to Tess to scream for help.

She was struggling enough as it was to concentrate on which hand his blade was in and which hand her's should be in to stop it, even though he had dropped his second knife it did not seem to hinder him in the slightest as he flipped and twisted the blade from one hand to the other during his attacks. Her wrists were aching from such a constant onslaught, not used to using a dagger for such a long period of time.

And then all of a sudden another blade was added to the mix.

Where he pulled the second knife from she didn't know, all she knew was that her chance of survival had just decreased again.

It required the use of both her dagger and her bracers to keep the blades from touching her.

All at once she had two blades coming from different directions.

With her dagger in her right hand she blocked the blade in his left that was trying to cut up into her stomach, the bracer on her left forearm pressing against the inside of his right wrist while her fingers curled around his forearm to lock his downward motion and stop the blade from reaching her face.

Her teeth clenched hard and she hardly dare breath lest her grip slip.

Both of their limbs were shaking, neither of them moving, neither willing to move back and give up ground.

With a heavy growl she snapped her left leg upwards, intending to get him in the side, but he moved back and the sudden release of the tension on her arms caused her to stumble just slightly, and in that moment the man lifted his own leg and kicked her hard in the stomach.

Her armor stopped the attack from hurting her, but the force of it threw her backwards regardless, her shoulders slamming brutally into the ground.

Her heart thundered under her ribs as she tried to get a limb under her to get herself up again.

The ground was THE worst place to be in a fight.

Above her the man leaped up, his blades crossed and ready to slice at her neck when he landed. Her right elbow found purchase and she managed to roll left, kicking up her leg and catching his ankle just as his toes were about to touch down,

Off balance the man fell left, his head colliding hard with the edge of a wooden crate.

Tess spared no time in pushing herself up to her feet, her lungs heaving hard as she rushed to snatch the two daggers out of his hands and toss them out of his reach before gripping his shoulder and flipping him onto his back.

His hood had fallen black, revealing his strangely close cropped hair, as dark in colour as his now unfocused eyes. A thick trail of blood was seeping down the side of his face where he had cut his temple on the crate, but Tess couldn't find herself to care about that in the slightest. With her right hand she yanked his mask down, the other she used to press her dagger against his neck.

"Who the fuck are you!?" she growled when at first he didn't respond, but her knee pressing into his stomach painfully sorted out his silence pretty quickly.

"My nam' is Demytyr," his accent was thick and it almost sounded like he was speaking through a mouthful of honey.

"I com' of d' Shadows, sen' to kill," he told her in stunted words, this was clearly not his first language. Her heart continued to pound rapidly in her chest and she pressed the blade harder to his neck.

"Sent to kill who?!" she gave him a little shake for good measure. There were too many important people in this camp to waste time. Demytyr gave a shaky smile, as if he could sense her desperation in getting an answer.

"No woman, if sh' worries," his smile quickly faded when he felt her blade prick his skin, a drop of blood sliding against throat.

"There are a lot of men outside this tent that would have a lot of fun with you for what you attempted here, I suggest you don't dig your own grave," she told him coldly.

Demytyr's lip curled down slightly and for a moment his eyes looked sad.

"I dug own grave when com' here, d'ere is not'ing after," his gaze moved past her, his dark eyes staring at something from his memories.

In that moment it felt like something cold had pierced her stomach and a lump formed in her throat. This man was not here by his own choice, at least not fully, this war had taken something important from him and despite the fact that he had tried to kill her moments ago she felt her eyes start to well up.

"...not'ing more," he whispered softly, and to himself she suspected.

His eyes snapped back to her face and hardened so suddenly that she jolted.

The feeling of sadness left her abruptly and she quickly tightened her slacking grip.

His lips curled into a grim smile.

"Mattyes net, dis does not end wit' me,"

Tess' brow furred and she was going to demand more when one of his hands flew up to grab her hand, his fingers wrapping around hers and holding the dagger tightly within her fist. The other wrapped around the back of her neck and he pulled her down close, his breath wafting against her ear as she struggled against his firm hold.

"One. King. Only."

His voice rasped and then suddenly cut off, his hand slipping from her head.

Tess heaved herself back and looked down at the assassin, but not quickly enough that she was spared being sprayed with warm red.

Blood was bubbling up from the open slit in his neck, gushing over his shoulder and soaking into the ground. She hurried to pull back her hand and it came free from his slack grip easily, the dagger still tightly gripped in her fingers. The blade was a bright scarlet and long lines were dripping down in stark lines against the paler colour of her wrist.

Demytyr's olive skin had quickly become an ashy grey, the heat fading fast from his body and leaving it icy cold.

His eyes were wide and empty, faded, no longer seeing this world.

"Why would he...?" For a minute all she could do was sit and stare.

'Why would he not fight to finish the job? Unless...'

His contradictory motives and actions were confusing her greatly, not to mention his strange last words.

"One King Only? One Ki-?"

Realization hit her harder than a wall of stone.

'Unless he wasn't alone!'

"ARAGORN!"

The hoarse scream ripped through her throat and she was on her feet in seconds, her red dagger tight her her hand as she sprinted across the expanse of the tent and out through the door.

Outside the men around the fire looked startled and some even leapt to their feet but Tess paid them no mind. Her eyes quickly took in the map tent to her right as she ran towards it and horror built deep in the pit of her stomach when she saw that almost everyone but Aragorn resided there. She swerved away and streaked towards the tent opposite hers where the men slept, shouts of her name and questions echoing at her back that she failed to listen to.

It was only twenty five feet from her tent to the other, but now it felt like miles.

'Please! Please don't let me be too late!'

"ARAGORN!"

The ranger appeared at the tent flap, confusion on his face and his hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes caught her form sprinting towards him and and he took several long strides forward to meet her half way.

Later Tess tried to imagine what his surprise might have looked like when she had hurtled straight passed him.

She crashed into the shadow following Aragorn's back with so much force that the two of them were thrown off their feet, smashing into the gravelly ground and throwing up a small cloud of ash like dust.

Before she had a chance to do any damage with her dagger she was punched squarely in the face, her vision flashing white while the taste of iron filled her mouth.

Her grip on the second assassin weakened slightly and he took this as his chance, his feet digging into her armoured gut while his hands gripped her shoulders. She had done enough martial arts training when she was younger to expect what was going to happen next. Her hips were kicked up and her heels went flying above her head, the momentum flipping her over the attacker's head and onto her back. The assassin was obviously running out of time and clearly did not wish to waste any more of it on her because the moment she was off him he was getting back to his feet. Breathing became somewhat less important to Tess as she rolled onto her stomach, her hands not even off the ground when her feet started moving.

With her dagger in her right hand she launched herself at the assassin, her chest colliding with his upper back while her legs hooked around his hips. Her left arm wrapped around his neck so she could cling to him, while her right went over his shoulder and across his collar bone, to bury her dagger deep in the left side his chest. It was almost as if the assassin didn't notice at first, so determined was he to kill the to-be King that his body kept going.

But his heart never was going to last very long with a steel blade sticking out of it.

The knives in his own hands dropped only seconds before his body, rousing another cloud of dust as his torso impacted heavily with the gravel.

For a long moment there was utter silence, not even the wargs were howling.

"Have you ever considered getting life insurance, Aragorn?"

Tess' words -which sounded more like 'hab you eber'- snapped the men out of their stupor, with movement occurring and noise ringing out not a second later. Swords and arrows were drawn, scouts were spread out and before she knew it she was surrounded by people and questions.

Tess opted to mostly ignore everyone while she peeled herself of yet another corpse, her arms aching to the point where she settled for just rolling to the side and flopping onto her back.

'Damn it all, I just wanted some sleep,' she thought wearily as she brought the inside of her left arm up to wipe her nose, flinching slightly when it induced some pain.

'Please don't be broken...'

She wiggled it gently and sighed in relief when it moved as she wanted it to.

People were already starting to surround her so she hauled herself to a sitting position, a rush of blood trickling down the back of her throat in an unpleasant way that made her gag. Working up a wad of dusty saliva and hacking slightly she spat the offending blood clot out to her left, narrowly missing someone's boot.

Her head was spinning a little when she was gripped by her shoulders to be brought to her feet and she brought a hand up to assure them she was alright but the sight of it gave her pause.

Both hands were dark crimson in colour, blood crusted under her finger nails and drying on her forearms. Not to mention the appetizing splatter across her chest plate where Demytyr's blood had sprayed when he had slit his own throat. Her gaze drifted to the newest dead man, his body being turned over as other soldiers inspected his fatal chest wound.

She didn't even know that one's name.

A chest covered in silver plate armor suddenly filled her vision and gloved hands wrapped around her shoulders, the world quaking momentarily while whoever had her shook her. Her eyes closed as her thoughts, and brain, bounced around in her head.

"For pity's sake woman! Speak!"

"What happened!?"

"Who the devil-?!"

"How-!?"

"Shutup!" she screeched and the questions around her ceased quickly, the hands letting go of her shoulders when she shoved her palms against her captor's chest.

"Just gimme a god damn minute!" she growled while she turned her back on the small crowd in front of her and took several steps away. More blood from her nose had seeped into her mouth and it was making her feel ill, so she took the lady like liberty to work up another wad of saliva to spit at the ground.

The adrenaline from before was leaking away, leaving her body quaking from the sudden energy expenditure. Going from napping to fighting for her life so quickly produced an ache that she hadn't felt since her expedition in Moria.

'Arrgh, I won't stop shaking,' she complained to herself as she tried to find a square patch of her body to wipe her face on. What wasn't covered in blood was covered in armour and it was increasingly looking like she was going to have to somehow get her inner thigh up to her face-

"Tess,"

A soft voice broke through her rising shock and a warm, gentle hand spread out across her left hip as a small body moved in beside her. She didn't have to look to know it was Merry. Pippin didn't have the ability to deal with emotional women.

"Here," a square of creamy cloth was stuffed into her hand and although his hand stayed on her hip he didn't attempt to get any closer than arms length.

Smart Hobbit.

With a gurgled sort of choke/groan she buried a good portion of her face in it, soaking up the blood still running from her nose.

She was consciously aware of the silence that was still behind her and knew if she took too long the flood of overwhelming questions would come back. So she quickly shook her hands and took a couple of deep breaths through her mouth before finally opening her eyes again.

Merry smiled grimly and nodded slowly with a question in his eyes.

"Thank you, I'm okay," she told him with a soft nod of her own. She wiped at her nose a little more, the blood having finally stopped running, and turned with a slightly shaky sigh.

Merry let his hand pat her hip a few times before he let it drop, the both of them returning to the group of confused and concerned men.

"Before anything," she spoke as they opened their mouths almost as one to ask questions.

"Lord Elphir," said man looked up at his name, a cross between a guilty look and a scowl on his face.

"I am sorry for shoving you," Tess tried to soften her features as she told him this, but wasn't sure if it was apologetic as it should have been.

The man really should have known shaking her within an inch of her life was a bad idea.

'Rather lucky that a shove is all he got,' she though idly and could see the same thought on some of her friend's faces. Imrahil's oldest son bowed his head in acceptance.

"My apologies also, my lady, for startling you,"

Tess forwent the bow and instead turned her gaze to Aragorn.

"You okay?"

The ranger's eyebrows furrowed as he took a couple a steps forward to look at her nose.

"You are the one covered in blood," he grumbled as his hand cupped her chin to move her face to the side and into better light. She pulled it back gently and waved him off.

"Most of it's not even mine,"

A tiny smile lit Aragorn's lips before he grew serious again.

"You risked your life to save mine," his hand came up to rest on her shoulder, fingers squeezing tightly as he looked into her eyes.

"Thank you,"

She smiled at him as her left hand came up to squeeze his wrist.

"Think nothing of it, my friend," she told him honestly. She knew he would have done the exact same had he been in her position.

"Speaking of risking lives," Éomer's voice drew the group's attention and Tess let her hand drop as she turned her head to look at him. His face was hard but she could see the concern in his eyes.

"What, exactly, was that?" his chin jutted towards the assassin's body, several men still guarding it as if he suddenly might jump back to life. Tess' brow furrowed as she started to explain what she knew.

"He's one of two assassins-,"

"Two!?"

"-that were trying to kill Aragorn," she plowed on, ignoring the outburst.

"The first tried to kill me in my sleep-,"

"What!?"

"-but thankfully failed and I managed to corner him,"

"Now hold right there fer just a wee minute!" Gimli's voice thundered out and Tess stopped talking to send him a look.

"Where is the other one?!" the Dwarf asked in a gruff tone, his hand tightening on his axe slightly.

"He...in my tent," she said stiffly and several soldiers quickly made their way over to it.

"In the back corner near the crate, he's dead," she called out to them to save them the trouble of looking.

"Are you sure?" Erchirion asked and Tess sent him an irritated look.

"Well unless you've seen someone with a cut throat and no pulse come back to life? Yes, I'm pretty sure he's dead," she told him bluntly.

Elphir took the liberty of smacking his brother on the back of his head for her.

"How did you know they were after Aragorn?" Legolas asked this time and she let her gaze wander to him.

"Before he died he took the privilege to inform me that he was not actually after me, that his mission to kill did not end with him and that there was 'One King Only',"

Tess swallowed sharply and dropped her gaze to her hands.

"After that he...slit his own throat, and the word King kind of made it clear who he was really after," she tried to joke but it didn't really work.

What kind of situation had the assassin been in, to know that if he failed there was no point in going back?

That committing suicide was a better choice.

It was Imrahil who stepped forward to grasp her shoulder and jolt her out of her dark thoughts.

"You did well to think quickly and acted bravely when you knew what was happening,"

Tess raised her head and pulled what she hoped looked like a grin onto her face.

Lucky Imrahil didn't stare long and instead turned to address the assembled group.

"What I would like to know is how they managed to slip passed a whole army before being detected,"

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Demytyr's body being dragged by his arms from her tent. Bile rose up her throat and for some reason she felt angry.

"He said he came 'of the Shadows' and I don't think that was a metaphor," she ground out before she quickly striding in the direction of the soldiers, the two men stopping as she neared.

"My Lady-,"

Whatever they were saying to her was lost as she stared down at the man who had tried to kill her. His lifeless eyes stared awkwardly to the side, his head hanging at an off angle because of his slit throat.

"D'ere is not'ing after...not'ing more,"

The frown wouldn't leave her features as she bent over, her fingers stretching out to softly close his eye lids as a wave of bitterness chilled her body.

Being so close to the man and not having to worry about him killing her allowed her to take in more details, like the freckle under his left eye, the scar on his chin and the gold chain around his bloodstained neck. With curious hands she tugged the chain free of his cowl-neck apparel to see what it carried and felt her back go stiff at the sight of the bloodstained medallion just a little bigger than a fifty cent coin.

'I know this symbol…' she had studied ancient history in high school, her main fascination being with Egyptian mythology but she knew also of Greek and Celtic.

'The Labyrinth,'

"Pardon, my Lady?" one of the guards drew her attention and she realised she had muttered the words out loud. Quickly clearing her throat she yanked the chain free of the dead body, the medallion gripped tightly in her palm and addressed the soldiers.

"They may be assassins but they are still humans," she told them, her eyes flicking from one soldier to the other as she stood back up straight.

"I want you to burn both their bodies, do not leave them for the beasts," she must have looked somewhat terrifying with the scowl on her face -or maybe it was just all the crusted blood?- because neither of the men said anything and instead just nodded and left to comply with her instructions.

Tess pursed her lips as she watched the assassin be dragged from her sight.

Her eyes shot back down to her hand where she took another look at the medallion. It was perfectly round and made of what seemed to be gold, the Labyrinth symbol etched deeply into one side. What confused her however was when she flipped it over there was a different symbol engraved on the back, a Raven (although it looked a little more like a toucan with it's strangely curved beak).

These were two very different symbols from very different cultures, Greek and Celtic respectively.

Neither of those cultures existed in Middle Earth.

But Ravens existed and Moria had been a labyrinth in a different league to any other maze she'd ever been in before, so perhaps it was presumptuous to think that the symbols could only be Greek or Celtic. Was she so willing to believe in coincidence?

'Yes.' might have been in the back of her mind as she curled her fingers tightly over the medallion, but a dark 'no' was whispered in her heart and it was that thought that made her slip the medallion and chain into her breast bindings.

'I must be losing my mind,' she thought softly to herself as she raked her free hand through her hair, retracting it a second later to stare at it in disgust.

'Ew.'

She let her chest fill with air in a deep sigh.

She could hear the group behind her arguing, about what she didn't care, all she knew was that she didn't want to get involved right now.

Her face hurt again and she would have to find water of some sort to clean her armor and she probably wasn't going to get any sleep tonight at all-

A wrinkled, old hand firmly gripped her shoulder and she let her eyes gaze up to Gandalf's face.

"Lord Imrahil has asked his page boy to collect you a bucket of water for you to wash with," he informed her with a kind smile. She knew that by 'wash' he meant all she'd get to clean would be her armor and face, but as long as the blood was gone she could deal with that. With a nod Tess turned and walked with the wizard in the direction of her tent, feet prickling at the sensation of the gravel beneath her.

"You were very brave," Gandalf commended as they grew closer.

Tess could notice the distraction technique for what it was and was thankful for it.

"Wanna know a secret?" she asked him and he raised one bushy eyebrow at her.

"I was also very scared," Tess admitted, a tiny smile on her face as she ducked under the tent flap that the wizard held aloft for her.

"Courage is not the absence of fear, my girl, but rather the judgement that something else is more important,"

Tess chuckled as she moved to a near-by crate to sit, her socked feet thanking her as she pulled them up one at a time to rub at her toes.

A small metal fire pit had been moved inside the tent to provide light, bright enough to see by but dim enough that the full horror of her situation wasn't completely obvious.

The corner where a body had once been was covered with new gravel to hide the blood stains, but it didn't stop her stomach from clenching unpleasantly.

"I've heard that one before," she told him weakly in reference to his words as she glanced back, her hands moving to the thin piece of leather holding back the top portion of her hair. Gandalf gave a little huff, a small smile on his face.

"Perhaps you will permit me to bestow wisdom that you have not yet heard?"

Tess couldn't hold back her grin as her hair fell about her face, the shorter strands falling against her cheekbones, the longer bits just beneath her jaw.

"I'll take whatever you can give me," she told him.

Gandalf bent slightly to take her bloody hands in his, as if they didn't bother him at all, a kind look on his face as his eyes bored into hers.

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage,"

He gave her another smile and a pat on the hand before standing straight and moving to the doorway.

Tess gave him a perplexed and incredulous look and opened her mouth to say 'you know Naomi told me Aragorn kinda has a thing for this chick Arwen and he isn't really my type...' when the tent flap was pushed aside and Éomer walked in.

Gandalf winked at her as he allowed the horseman and Imrahil's page boy through.

Actually winked at her!

'Cheeky bastard,' she tried to telepathically communicate to him, though her glower was most likely conveying the message loud and clear.

"M-My lady," Arethas muttered as he placed the half filled bucket at her feet, his head bowed to the ground the whole time.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Thank you, and I'm not going to bite," she told the teenager a little moodily.

The last thing she needed was for people to start looking at her like she was some sort of monster assassin or something.

"Y-Yes my lady," he stuttered as his eyes flashed up for a second.

Then his face went pink and he was looking at the ground again.

"Will that be all?" he asked and Tess awkwardly dismissed him, a little afraid to ask for anything else lest the poor kid suffer a heart attack.

Arethas and Gandalf both exited the tent and Tess let her wide gaze go to Éomer.

"What was that about?" she asked him, her bobbing in the direction that the teen had previously been standing in. Éomer chuckled as he pulled an empty crate up in front of her and sat close enough that their knees brushed, his hands going to one of her forearms to help her remove her vambraces without her even asking.

"Young Arethas was standing three feet from the assassin when you tackled him to the ground," hazel eyes darted up to meet hers, his fingers never stopping on the laces.

"So what? Now he's terrified that I'm going to take him out too?" she muttered grumpily as she focused on working one-handedly at the clasps on her right side to free herself of her armor. Éomer chuckled again and she glanced at him like he had grown an extra head.

"No, just the opposite I am sure; judging from his constant look of adoration and his endless retelling of the story to anyone who will lend an ear,"

Tess finished with the last clasp on her right side and watched a gap pop open.

"Huh. My first fan, how nice," she mused as she waited for Éomer to be done with her arm.

"More like third, if Masters Merry and Pippin have anything to say about it," he told her as he finished up. She pulled her arm free of the vambrace and then worked on quickly tugging off the amour. She was free in a number seconds, twisting her spine and rolling her shoulders, relishing in the freedom that she hadn't felt for a whole week.

Any other time she might feel embarrassed at the strong musk of sweat that clung to her but the entire army was starting to smell a bit ripe by now so she let it slide. Éomer didn't seem to care anyway as he gently grasped her left arm and started work on that vambrace while she used a damp cloth to start work on her bloody breastplate. Her chain mail clinked in the silence of the tent as she worked; she didn't bother to take it off because it wasn't that dirty and would take more effort that it was worth. By the time her left forearm was free she was half done with the breastplate. She'd probably be further along if it wasn't for the fact that she seemed to just be smearing the half coagulated blood instead of removing it.

"Let me," Éomer said softly as he took the rag from her hand and she nodded gratefully. She pushed her sleeves up as best she could before immersing her hands in the water. She had to scrub hard to get the clots out from under her nails, the sensation making her stomach quiver a little. When her hands were as clean as she could get them she started on her face, wincing every time her hand bumped her nose. Idly she wondered if she would ever not have some sort of bruise on her cheeks. She suspected that the constant split lip she seemed to have would scar if it ever had time to actually heal over. She ran her wet fingers through her hair a couple of times to try and mold it away from her face (not that it really worked) before letting herself fall forward onto her elbows, hands hanging between her thighs as she closed her eyes for a moment. Two bigger hands wrapped around hers, holding them tightly, and she looked up.

"You are shaking," Éomer stated, his eyes on her fingers as he trailed a thumb across the back of her hand.

"So I am," she noted without looking away from his face, head tilted just slightly as she observed him.

"Are you afraid?" he asked her and she paused to think about her answer.

Was she scared?

"Not right now,"

And it was the truth.

"Not here with you," she admitted quietly, her fingers entwining with his.

Éomer looked up at her at that, his eyes impossibly dark in firelight and she let herself be pulled in, watching as he wet his lips before speaking.

"I was...afraid," he told her and he had to clear his throat and look at their hands to continue talking. She knew how much it took him to admit that and was surprised that he was going to continue.

"When you ran screaming from the tent, covered in blood...that was terrifying,"

Tess let out a little chuckle at the mental image she created of herself, sprinting and hollering like a wild women across the camp (with no shoes to boot).

"Well I suppose I-,"

"Tess," he cut her off, his eyes going back to her face again as well his right hand, his fingers lightly grazing her jaw. He pulled her left hand, still wrapped in his, to his chest where he cradled it gentle.

"It was terrifying because I thought you had been hurt, that fear...it stilled my heart," he told her seriously, eyes fixed on the bruise he was tracing with gentle, calloused fingers.

Tess frowned as a red flag went up.

"If you're trying to work into a conversation about me staying behind you should know that it isn't going to work," she told him bluntly, eyes narrowed as she tried to figure out his approach.

Was he honestly going to attempt the cliché 'I-care-about-you-so-I-want-you-to-stay-behind-while-I-fight-and-possibly-die-in-battle' thing now!? After she just survived two assassins on top of every other fight she'd been in so far? She'd cut her teeth in Moria for godssake!

Éomer actually rolled his eyes to the roof of the tent and huffed, shaking his head as if asking for strength to deal with her.

"Maddening woman," he muttered and Tess sat up straight in indignation.

"Hey! You-,"

Whatever she had planned to say next was cut off when Éomer dropped his head and smiled at her, actually smiled, with joy,and took her face in both his hands.

His teeth glittered and his eyes crinkled and it was such a beautiful sight that she felt a blush warm her cheeks like she was a teenager with a schoolyard crush again.

"Maddening," he muttered one final time before pulling her forward to kiss her soundly.

Her hands fluttered as she tried to figure out where she should put them, her heart thumping hard in her chest as her eyes snapped closed.

It was with the darkness that she relaxed, her hands finding purchase wrapped around his forearms while his fingers tangled in her short hair. She sighed through her nose as she kissed him back, their lips working in soft, slow tandem.

They slowly broke apart only a little while later, Éomer resting his forehead against hers as his thumbs brushed along her cheekbones tenderly.

Their breath mingled in the space between them and she let her eyes drift open.

His eyes were closed to her, but there was a look of such peace on his face as he sat in front of her.

A heavy emotion swelled up in her chest and before she could stop herself she was shuffling forward, off her crate and onto his lap, her arms wrapping around chest tightly while she pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck.

He was obviously startled because his arms hovered awkwardly around her for a long moment and he was as stiff as a board.

In response to his awkwardness she made a fist and thumped it on his back, muttering a grumpy 'hug me back, idiot' to kick start his brain.

His big arms wrapped around her back as he pulled her even tighter to his chest and his head bent down a little so that his chin rested on her left shoulder.

The hug was a bit painful, all hard armor and pinching chain mail, not to mention the fact that he was all but crushing her ribs.

But she could feel him and he felt real and that was all she wanted right then.

"Uuurrm...,"

"Are we...interrupting?"

Tess opened her eyes and peeked over Éomer's shoulder to spy Merry and Pippin with their heads stuck inside the tent flap, matching sly looks on their faces.

"Ye-,"

"No!"

Éomer stood so fast that she didn't have anytime to get her feet under her and with a yelp of indignation she landed on her rear at his feet, the shock of it shooting up her spine.

"Goddamnit-Éomer!"

Apologies spluttered from his lips as he bent over to help her to her feet, while Merry and Pippin howled with amusement.

They had to lean against each other they were laughing so hard.

By the time Legolas entered the tent the pair of Hobbits had mostly calmed themselves, although Tess' scowl remained as did the faint blush on Éomer's cheeks.

The blonde Elf did nothing more than raise an eyebrow however and instead moved towards the humans. In his hand was a mug that he offered to Tess, the warmth of it spreading through her chilled fingers as she brought it to her nose to smell the contents.

It smelled faintly sweet but she'd been given enough tea made by Elves to know that it didn't always taste that way. Legolas' eyes were boring into the side of her head and it made her feel like a bug under a looking glass so she took a quick sip to not seem rude and was pleasantly surprised.

It must have shown on her face because Legolas chuckled when she took another sip, deeper this time.

"Your blade," the fair-haired male said when she had chugged back over half the contents of the mug and with a sluggish nod she took it from him to put it back in its sheath on her leg. It took her a couple of goes because it was like all her energy had abruptly up and vanished.

'Weird...adrenaline must be wearing off,'

"Thanks," she shook her head as a sudden fog started to cloud her thoughts, her legs starting to go weaker under her weight. Two arms came up around her shoulders to steady her and Legolas smiled in a way that made that made something click, especially when he took the mug from her feeble grasp.

"D'you jus...drug me?" she slurred as her body started to go limp, Éomer the only reason she was still upright at all.

The Elf gave her a cheeky smile and lightly brushed a finger against her cheek. He knew she wouldn't even attempt to sleep the few hours left until dawn but knew she would need it to be sharp for the coming day.

"It will wear off quickly, get some sleep, my friend," he said softly as he made his way out of the tent again.

"Cheeky...bast...," her legs gave out completely just as Éomer scooped her up in his arms, her head flopping somewhat uselessly against his chest as he moved her to her wagon and pulled her red cloak over her despite her feeble attempts at protest.

'Don' wanna be 'lone,' even her thoughts were slurred as she blinked heavily up at the horselord.

"Merry and Pippin will stay with you and the Elf has promised to keep vigil outside, you will be safe," he murmured to her and kissed her forehead, but she had already gone out like a light.

XXXXX

'Sonovabitch.'

Was her first waking thought when the morning trumpets sounded.

The second was that she was awfully warm but when she looked down she discovered that was because she had two Hobbits curled into either side of her. Merry was stirring awake as she was from the sound of the brass but Pippin was still fast asleep, head thrown back with his mouth wide open, letting out snores that she wondered how on Earth she had managed to not wake before now.

'Oh that's right, I was drugged by an Elf!'

Despite this she couldn't help but also admit she felt wonderful, she'd had no dreams and no nightmares and for the first time since leaving Minas Tirith she actually felt rested.

'Which means he's probably going to want a thank you, the sly bugger,'

There was a sudden 'whump' sound along with a snort that made her look down again.

"Wazzit?" Pippin grumbled out as he sat bolt upright and she realized Merry had given the Hobbit a nice punch in the gut to wake him.

"Good morning, Master Hobbits," Tess smiled as she pulled herself into an upright position, her cloak pooling at her hips and reminding her that she had to put on all her amour again.

"Good morning, my lady," Merry said with a small smile as he slid out of the back of the wagon to give her some room to rise.

"Guar marneh," Pippin said through a yawn as he stretched his arms above his head as far as his shoulders would allow.

"What's fer breakfast?" was the first thing out of his mouth after that and Tess let a chuckle escape as Merry handed her her boots so that she didn't ruin her socks more than she already had. Once she had them tugged on she stood, stretching out her limbs and saying goodbye to the momentary respite she'd had as she reached for her breastplate. She had barely even tugged it over her head when two pairs of hands appeared to help tighten the clasps on either side of her ribs. She sent the two Hobbits a soft grin as they chatted back and forth about the meal they would soon be getting and felt up to make sure the attached spaulders were sitting comfortably before slipping on one of her vambraces and working at the laces. Merry and Pippin quickly took over from that as well, stating that their nimble fingers could tighten them better.

"Nimble fingers, or sneaky fingers?" she had jokingly asked and Merry gave her a grin while Pippin looked a little guilty.

Fully dressed with amour fitting snugly she urged them out to go eat.

"I'll save you a bowl, make sure Pip don't eat it all," Merry promised and Pippin worked into battle mode.

"If anythin' I should save the food from you, dear cousin! Ah don' know if you've forgotten my sister's birthday a few years back...," the story went with the two as they left the tent and Tess shook her head. She retrieved her sword and belt from the wagon and swiftly attached both to her waist, throwing her cloak over her shoulders as she left the tents relative warmth.

The air outside was still chilled but there was a little breeze filtering through from the North now that helped rouse the soldiers.

The sun had not yet risen and the sky was almost still dark but she was sure that many would be glad to give up the pretence of sleeping in favour of moving out.

Fires were still required in the extremely early morning to give light but the land around them somehow seemed less hostile and more...empty. Like anything that had been stalking the camp the previous night had left or had never even been there at all.

Her gut suddenly tightened and she griped the hilt of her sword for some comfort when a flash of metal in the night flickered through her thoughts.

She pushed it from her mind and instead strode to the map tent, where once again there was no maps, instead it was just commanders coming and going whilst people took their breakfast.

She was getting some stares and she realized what she'd done the previous night had probably been spread through out the entire camp by now.

'I just got over these!' she thought with a roll of her eyes.

Of course the moment the men became used to the presence of a woman she went and did something that would make them look shocked all over again.

She hadn't even made it halfway to her destination when the first soldier stopped her.

"My Lady, is it true what they say about you fighting shadows that came to kill our Lord Aragorn?" the soldier asked, his face was extraordinarily young and nervous, his eyes constantly darting over to a group of near-by men that were watching with rapt attention. She couldn't help the tiny grin that came to her lips at that.

"I see you lost the drawing of straws," she said and a flush crossed the young man's cheeks.

"I don't now what you've all been told, but yes, I stopped an assassin that was after Aragorn,"

The soldier's eyes grew wide and filled with such awe that it made her squirm.

"It wasn't a monster or a shadow or anything of the sort however, he was a man and he bled just as all others do," her fingers strayed to her bruised face for a moment, which surprisingly wasn't aching at all.

'What the hell was in that tea?'

"-did you know?"

"A women's intuition," she answered immediately then paused because she wasn't actually sure what had been asked of opened her mouth to take it back but the damage was already done, the soldier's mouth was flopping open and closed as he tried to find words.

"Do all women posses this ability? To sense ill will to their friends?" he looked like a cross between curious and afraid and Tess had to suppress a snicker at the thought of the entire camp suddenly spreading rumors about women being all knowing.

"In various ways many women can sense when something is wrong concerning their loved ones yes, but in this case I was joking friend, I knew the assassin was after Aragorn as his partner told me so before he died," now that she knew what they were talking about, giving a reasonable answer was possible. The soldier seemed to grow thoughtful and she took this as a chance to escape.

An escape which lasted all of three steps.

"My Lady! If I may take a moment of your time...,"

And that was how the rest of her morning went, managing a few steps in any one direction before she was called upon. She only managed to have breakfast when it was shoved into her hands by Gimli, who had seen her mounting distress and anger at being denied food and came to save the day before she tried to gnaw off her own arm.

Or someone else's.

She earned a respite after that as everyone mounted up and prepared to move out.

And suddenly she wished she was being barraged with questions because the utter silence that enveloped the army while they marched was deafening.

It wasn't even yet dawn when the landscape changed again, the rolling ash hills and outcrops of rocks became sharper, fouler, more broken and as the army bent towards the east Tess got her first glimpse of Cirith Gorgor to the south. Straight between them were hills and though it may have been quicker to cut through them it would also be more dangerous. That was why they were turning east now, Legolas explained to her when she had questioned, so that they may approach the Morannon from the north-west where the path was clearer.

"The Morannon?" she asked, tongue stuttering slightly on the Elvish word. Legolas still hadn't looked away from their destination, his Elven eyes seeing more than her human ones ever could.

"The Black Gate,"

The cold feeling that had been growing in her stomach became almost painful and her fingers tightened on the reins.

Dawn came and went almost without notice, the clouds overhead still keeping most of the land in grey.

'Not that there is a great variety of colours to illuminate in the first place,' she thought idly as she looked at the grey gravel, grey rock and further ahead the grey mountains that were broken only with patches of black or very dark brown every now and again.

Over all the entire area was just very dark and very gloomy.

She wasn't the first to set eyes on the Black Gate but she knew the moment that it became visible because the people in front of her grew very stiff very suddenly.

Aragorn was first, along with Gandalf and Pippin, while Éomer with Merry and Legolas with Gimli were among the second.

Tess was only just thinking about preparing her mind when suddenly she was rounding the last rock formation and there it was.

Stretched long and dark and sharp between two terrifyingly large watchtowers, nestled tightly between the meeting of two mountain ranges. The range to the left was the Ered Lithui, the Ash Mountains, that she was told stretched at least five hundred miles to the east. To the right was the Ephel Dúath, the Mountains of Shadow, and this range stretched even further.

"We will travel along only a sixth of the entire range on our journey north," Erchirion had told her during their first days of travel. Standing at the base of this range was one of the two Towers of Teeth, Narchost or Fire Tower it was called. The second, Carchost, also known as Fang Tower, stood opposite at the base of the Ash Mountains. Both were tall and jagged and reminded Tess rather prominently of Orthanc, the tower of Isengard where Saruman had lived and died.

"Cirith Gorgor means 'Haunted Pass' in the common tongue," Legolas spoke so softly to her when her horse levelled with Arod that she almost didn't hear him. An awed and disturbed look filtered onto her face and she couldn't help but think that Cirith Gorgor lived up to its name.

Despite its intimidating look, however, there was a distinct lack of movement from the enemy.

There was a distinct lack of the enemy period.

She had half expected the entire army of Mordor to be waiting for them out the front of the gate, the other half of her had imagined them to be lined on the top of it waiting with hundreds of arrows to fire.

She hadn't expected no one at all.

Orders rang out regardless, commanders belting out behind her to the host of men so that they may fall into formation. Men of Rohan and Men of Gondor stood side by side with Knights of Dol Amroth interspersed between. Banners of all colours flapped in the wind and other than the clinking of mail and the slight whuffing of the horses there was no sound.

Long minutes passed and no movement was made, the gates did not even so much as quiver as the host waited for a signal from their enemy.

"Where are they?" Pippin whispered and it was only because she was downwind that the words carried to her ears. Aragorn took the lead from there, spurring Brego forward towards the gate. Shadowfax, Arod and Firefoot followed closely after, their riders following after their comrade into the shadow of the Morannon.

Tess brought up the rear with Imrahil and his eldest son, Elphir, as well as two bannermen. On one flag flew the tree and stars of Gondor, the other showing the white horse of Rohan while Elphir held aloft the sigil of the silver swan for Dol Amroth.

The closer they got the more colossal the gates became until Tess had to crane her neck back in order to see the spikes that adorned the top of the wall.

"Let the Lord of the Black Land come forth! May justice be dealt upon him!" Aragorn's voice rang out clear and strong and Tess wondered where he found the courage to sound so sitting in the shadow of this gate.

She didn't think she could squeak even if she wanted to.

For long moments nothing happened, until at last the first movement from the enemy was made since they arrived. With a heaving groan and the clanking of gears the Morannon opened slowly and from within appeared a single rider.

At first Tess thought is was one of the eight remaining Nazgûl, dressed in swathes of black as it was, but it drew closer and Tess sucked in a harsh gasp of air.

Its face was almost completely covered, a helmet hiding its eyes if it even had any under the metal. What was visible of its mottled skin was a ghastly pink, pale as if all the blood had drained from it whilst still maintaining the eery stained colour.

But the worst part of this creature was its mouth.

Lips that had been chewed or sawn off, leaving nothing but raw, fleshy edges. Dark black red blood oozed from the open wounds as it opened its mouth to speak.

"My Master, Sauron the Great, bids thee welcome,"

It titled its head a smiled with all its rotten, yellow and grey teeth on display like it was proud of them.

Tess thought she might be sick.

"Is there any in this rout with authority to treat with me?" it asked when no answer from the company was forth coming. The voice that gurgled up from behind the brackish teeth was deep and foul, echoing a pain that rang deep through Tess' chest and made her tremble in the saddle.

"We do not come here to waste words in treating with Sauron, faithless and accursed," Gandalf said at last and like a hunting dog the creature's head swivelled in the direction of the sound.

"Tell your Master this! The armies of Mordor must disband, He is to depart these lands, never to return!" Gandalf continued on and she admired him even more for the strength his voice carried as he made these demands.

"Ah, Old Greybeard," it drawled in what sounded to be a condescending tone, head tilting to the other side as it considered the old wizard before him.

Tess started when its head suddenly snapped upright and she could feel the sick amusement as it spoke gain.

"I have a token I was bidden to show thee,"

There was a flash of silver and from under the folds of its cloak it held aloft a shirt.

A mail shirt, made of mithril, that she had last seen protecting a little Hobbit.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she smacked a hand across her lips to stifle the distressed noise trying to escape as it tossed the precious item to Gandalf.

"Frodo!" Pippin wailed and the creature gave a predatory growl as its head jerked towards the Hobbit.

"Silence!" Gandalf ordered seconds before Merry gave his own anguished cry.

"No!"

The creature's head again snapped to the sound and Tess wondered if she scraped her nails down a black board if the creature would die in pain at the horrid sound grating against its sensitive hearing.

The offer was extremely tempting.

Gandalf called for silence again and a moment later she figured out why he was so adamant that nobody speak. The creature used their feelings against them and brandished words as one would a weapon.

"The Halfling was dear to thee, I see," it crooned as if it was sorry for their loss.

"Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host!" it gave another growl and smiled wickedly at the distraught faces around it.

"Who would've thought one so small could endure so much pain?"

Hasufel shifted under her legs when he sensed his rider's distress and when Tess closed her eyes all she could see was the image she'd had in her dreams, of Frodo and Sam, covered in little flowers as they rested peacefully next to each other. She missed whatever it said next as tears escaped her eyes and she inadvertently let out a gasp of pain.

Its sightless gaze found her where she was positioned behind Gandalf and Aragorn and dark whispers filled her head. Her hands reached up to cover her ears, trying to block out the racket but she was quickly losing that fight.

'It hurts! Somebody please! It hurts!'

But just as quickly as it started it stopped, the reason becoming clear when she blinked open her eyes to find that the creature's head was no longer sitting upon its shoulders.

Aragorn's sword glinted in his hand as he turned to face the present company.

"I do not believe it! I will not!" he told them with such utter faith.

No sooner had Aragorn spoken than the Black Gate once again opened and the sight beyond made her jaw drop.

"Pull back!" the ex-ranger cried and around her her friends turned their horses to run.

But she couldn't move.

She couldn't breath.

Couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of the hazy tower in the distance, orange and red light staining the dark clouds in a fleshy pink colour.

It was beautiful.

And it was petrifying.

So mesmerized was she that she didn't even notice the approaching army of orcs until Hasufel cried beneath her and turned away on his own to follow the others. Her back turned to the tower and suddenly, now that she was unable to see it, she felt her mind snap back to her, the iron bands that had clenched so painfully around her chest uncoiled slightly and her lungs sucked in a great gasp of air.

Legolas shot her a look when she quickly grew close to where he had stopped in front of the company but there was nothing she could do or say to explain how she felt staring at that horrid light.

She looked up to see the Army of the West, the men twitching and literally shaking in their boots as the Black Land and all its army was revealed to them at the opening of the Morannon.

Then through the haze a voice cried out.

"Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my Brothers! I see in your eyes, the same fear that would take the heart of me!"

It was Aragorn and as he rode up and down the line on Brego, his sword in his hand as he spoke Tess felt chills go down her spine.

"A day may come, when the courage of Men fails! When we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship! But it is not this day!"

She watched in awe and felt a stray tear slide down her cheek as she witnessed Aragorn truly become the King he was born to be.

"An hour of wolves and shattered shields! When the age of Men... comes crashing down!"

The King she knew he could be since the moment someone said he should be.

"But it is. not. this. day! This day we fight!"

Her heart swelled and despite everything a smile broke onto her face and she gripped her the hilt of her sword as a passion for Aragorn's words broke free from where it was building in her soul.

"By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand! Men of the West!"

And with the ringing of metal in her ears Tess drew her sword, with no intention of sheathing it until the fight was won.

Because in freeing her sword it would be to win, or to die.

She dismounted Hasufel, giving her brave steed a last kiss on the nose before a man came to take their horses from the battle field.

"We've been through a lot together and you have been good to me my friend, I cannot thank you enough," she whispered as she gave Hasufel a one armed hug around the neck, his lips whuffing at the side of her head while he pawed the ground a few times. The bridle was taken from her fingers as she turned away without looking back, instead walking over to Aragorn.

He caught her gaze and nodded to her, clasping her forearm as she did his in a way to say everything they hadn't thought to say before now. Then she moved behind him, her hand trailing over Legolas' as she found a place to stand next to Éomer.

No words were spoken of the damp trails on her cheeks, in fact neither of them said anything at all. They couldn't make any promises because there was no knowing what was to happen in the future, nor did they want to say any goodbyes. Instead she moved her sword to her other hand so that should could wrap her right around his left, squeezing with everything she had so that he would feel it through his glove.

The horselord's fingers squeezed right back and he bent slightly to bring her fingers to his lips for the briefest of seconds.

Then they let go and turned their minds to the fight.

Orcs were surrounding them completely in a black swarm as Sauron's Tower and Mount Doom both flamed beyond the open gate.

Thoughts of Frodo and Sam filled her mind as she lifted her head to stare at what was in front of them, knowing that somewhere in that abyss they had struggled and may yet even still be struggling.

She thought of Naomi and how they had both come so far against the darkness of this land.

She thought of Éowyn and Faramir, watching this darkness from Minas Tirith.

She thought of Boromir.

She thought of her home.

Of her mother and her father and her sister and all the people she would probably never see again.

She thought of the life that she would want to live here, in peace, if she should get the chance.

And then she let all her thoughts go.

She focused on Aragorn as he took slow steps out in front of them, his sword lowering as he turned to them where they stood on the frontline.

"For Frodo," he whispered.

And then he was off, sword gripped in both hands while his cape swirled behind him.

Pippin and Merry were the first to follow, shooting off with cries that jump started the rest of them into action.

Her own battle cry burst forth from some deep place in her chest that shook her to her bones, her higher pitch melting into the cacophony of roars that were released from the men around her as they ran with their swords and shields raised high. When the Army of the West and the Dark Forces of Sauron clashed it was deafening and Tess' world tumbled into chaos.

She lost sight of her friends almost instantly as orcs filtered through in droves but her thoughts had already turned to survival, her sword singing as it tasted blood for the first time since she had received it. She sliced and hacked through the beasts around her, metal clashing against metal or rotting flesh, whilst fists and shields pummeled against faces to create easier targets.

A snarling Orc howled as the edge of her blade cut into its unprotected thigh, its left leg giving out beneath it. It spat at her and in return Tess growled and sliced off its head.

A glinting light caught the corner of her eye and she turned to block and counter-attack.

A move that she used again.

And again.

And again.

The deformed faces of orcs rose and fell in front of her, blurring together in a reel of grey skin, pointed teeth and metal.

Her chest was heaving as she fought, her arms shaking as she mercilessly hacked away at the enemies she confronted. Some tried to strike her from behind, other simple charged at her whilst the unlucky ones didn't even see her coming.

Her blade was almost completely obscured from sight, so covered in the black blood of orcs was it that only slivers of metal shone through anymore.

Blood was everywhere.

Dripping down the hilt and soaking her forearms.

Splattered in patches across her armor and face.

Soaking heavily into the dirt beneath her feet.

And not all of it was black.

Some of it was the red blood of men.

Her heart started to lose hope as she gutted orc after orc after orc.

There were too many and for every two orcs that went down so did a man.

'Keep fighting! You knew what this battle would be!' her thoughts screamed at her but it didn't stop the lump trying to form in her throat.

'Keep fighting!'

But then she heard a horrible screeching the filled the sky and the tears that welled up in her eyes could not be stopped.

"Nazgûl," she brokenly whispered to no one as she spared a moment to look to the sky.

Eight black Ringwraiths atop Fell beasts were swooping in from over the Black Gate, claws stretched out as they neared the battle to grab for victims.

And then she was surprised, for in a flurry of golden feathers swooped in a massive Eagle, matching the Fell Beast for size as the two clashed together. The Eagle's talons bit at the beast while its razor shark beak snapped at the wraith.

From somewhere to her right she heard Pippin's voice, filled to the brim with hope.

"The Eagles are coming!"

And he was right, for just behind the first Eagle were five other great, giant, golden Eagles all equally as mighty in size and they clashed and tangled in a vicious aerial battle.

Although she was not filled with as much hope like her Hobbit friend, the sight of the Eagles dried her eyes and gave her a burst of energy, enough that she could once again pick her sword up and fight.

With her renewed strength she turned around to face a new opponent.

Only to find that she wasn't even looking at a face.

Her eyes trailed upwards and upwards and upwards until at last she was staring into the face of a troll.

"Oh...my...go-!"

She didn't get to finish her sentence, opting instead to dodge to the side just in time to avoid being cleaved in half by a rusting axe the size of her entire body.

The great creature pulled the weapon out of the ground and up to its face so that it could inspect, its face pulling into a frown when it realized there were no bloody splatters on it and it gazed back down to her where she was kneeling, getting her feet back under her in case she had to make another dodge.

Tess' eyes were wide while she watched, as underneath the dented and spiked helmet, the only armor it actually wore, the troll's face crumpled and folded, anger clearly building as its immense body started to shake.

It started growling, tossing its axe all around the place, taking out anything and everything in the path of the sharp edges, whether they be friend or foe.

Then it bellowed towards the sky, a great heaving sound that shook the ground beneath her feet. The roar ended and it looked back down to her small form, actually hunkering down onto its fists so that when it bellowed a second time it was only a few feet away from her face.

Her arms came up to protect her ears as its foul and stinking breath washed over her in a heated and nauseating wave of air. Spittle landed against her cheeks as she endured the abuse, and was it just her imagination or were the orcs around her laughing at her?!

She grit her teeth tightly and clenched her hands in fists as at last the beast's vociferation came to an end with a bang.

An actual bang, for the troll had actually stomped its foot.

Like it was having a tantrum.

'Well in that case,' crossed her mind as she steeled herself for what she was about to do.

With a glare that held all of her abhorrence, not only at the beast but her whole damn situation, she raised her head, her arms coming down to her sides as she pushed herself to her feet.

Back to her total height of five foot three she came face to face with the hunkered down creature.

She sucked in a breath.

And yelled right back.

She screamed at it for all her worth, screamed until she went red in the face and was shaking in her boots.

She had nowhere near the volume the troll did but it made her feel better and stunned the beast enough that it stayed still for a sufficient amount of time that allowed her to plunge her sword deep into the softer flesh of its left armpit.

It howled and Tess immediately pulled her sword free, stumbling back several steps in case it started to thrash about again.

'Stabbing trolls. Bad idea.'

She made the mental note as it picked up its axe and hurled it at her with all its might, dodging for her life and hitting the dirt hard as the weapon flew over her head, taking out a group of orcs several feet away before grinding to a halt.

Tess' head swivelled back to stare as the beast clutched its left arm, making wounded noises when all the limb did was twitch.

So she had cut through something vital.

Excellent.

And then it looked up and met her gaze.

"Shit-!"

Was all she managed to get out before she was scrambling to her feet, trying to get away from the hand that was reaching for her.

Panic flooded her and filled her throat, choking her slightly as she tried to push her way through the crowd of orcs and men, desperately trying to escape the rampaging beast as it charged after her. No matter how fast she weaved however it was always right on her tail, sending soldiers and orcs flying every which way with its right hand alone.

A flash of red caught her eye and she screamed out.

"GIMLI!"

The Dwarf looked up from where he had imbedded his axe in the head of an orc, just in time to see her terrified face as the huge grey hand of the troll wrapped around her midsection and pulled her off her clean off her feet. She thrashed about in its grasp as best she could but she literally only had her head and below her knees free.

A wheezed gasp escaped her as it clenched, her metal armor groaning under the pressure as it squeezed.

Her sword was trapped in her hand at her side, completely useless in this situation.

She was just wondering if her ribs would survive much more when a great, Dwarvish cry bellowed out and Gimli sprang forward, his axe aimed for the troll's knee.

The skin didn't break but there was a hideous crunch and the troll gave out a whine that was even more pained than the sound it had made when she stabbed it.

Its fist around her tightened momentarily before it raised its arm and threw her away.

The world spun and she braced for impact, which came with a loud clatter when she knocked down a trio of orcs like a bowling ball taking out pins at an alley. It took her a second but nothing was broken when she rolled off the filth, although there was a terrible ripping sound as she heaved herself into an upright position and she shrieked when she discovered that her red cloak had ripped at the bottom, the tear stretching more than three quarters of the way across in a jagged horizontal line. Her glare fastened onto the unlucky orc, who's armor had caught the fabric and she drove her blade right in between his eyes. Then she spun on her knees to bury her sword into the gut of another orc, twisting onto her feet and slicing at the neck of a third.

Just like that she was back in the fray.

She lost the meaning of time as she fought, her mind focused only on breathing in and out.

It was painful though and every time she blocked an attack it rattled deep to her bones.

She was tired.

There was a sudden high pitch wailing and it pained her so much that she actually dropped her sword in order to clasp her hands over her ears.

A deep rumble shuddered through the ground and interrupted the beat of her heart with such ferocity that she gagged, falling to her knees as her whole body trembled.

Through the pain she managed to look up and over the heads of orcs and soldiers, passed the Morannon and over the black fields she watched as the tower of Barad-dûr folded in on itself, collapsing like a house of cards.

The burning eye of Sauron that had haunted so many of her days and nights grew large before suddenly it too drew into itself and exploded, a ripple of energy bursting forth from the place it had been contained for so long.

The earth beneath her knees groaned and quaked and when the wave of energy blew over her in a giant surge she felt her breath stolen from her lungs completely.

Her vision was spotted with grey and her arms fell limply by her sides, hanging there as she watched this part of the world end.

The black lands opened up, swallowing the filth of Mordor and sending it back from whence it came.

The Morannon, the Black Gate, that had looked so utterly impenetrable before, sunk down like it was being devoured by the sea.

And on either side, the Towers of the Teeth shattered and fell apart in fragments that withered to dust as they rained down upon the orcs that tried to flee.

Her heart throbbed in her ears and she watched with uncomprehending eyes as Mount Doom erupted in a mass of red, spewing lava down the hill side and shooting flaming rocks into the burning sky before gravity let them tumble into the wasteland below.

Blue eyes hidden slightly behind black curls appeared in her mind along with a pair of hazel green under sandy blonde.

"…Frodo…Sam…," her lips whispered as tears pushed over her lashes and dropped down her cheeks. A shadow fell over her as one of the giant eagles swooped down with talons extended to clutch up a waiting Gandalf, quickly rushing back to the skies where it deposited the wizard on the back of the largest eagle. One more joined the two and they circled around to head towards the fiery mountain.

"Find them," she prayed, her words only a breath so that they may be carried with the wind to them.

For a long time Tess didn't move, her body unable to conjure the strength to get back to her feet. Instead she kept her eyes cast to the ground in an unseeing stare. She thought maybe she could close her eyes for a moment, just to rest them, just for a moment but as she was about to let them fall closed a hand found her right shoulder. The flame within her that had been going out was rekindled enough for her to tilt her head and look up as Éomer feel to his knees beside her. Tears were in his eyes as his hand wrapped around the back of her neck to pull her face to his so that he could rest his forehead against hers. His skin was covered in grime and hers in sweat but she didn't care as she breathed him in, her eyes closing against the tears that burned down her cheeks.

"Mín fús bréostcofa, mín lufræden, hit sy ofer! Hit sy ádrogen," he was speaking to her in what she supposed was the native language of Rohan and she couldn't help the small smile that pulled at her lips.

"I don't know what you are saying," she whispered to him and her eyes opened as he pulled away so that he could plant a rough kiss to her forehead before pulling her even closer so that she was tucked under his chin.

"The shadow has passed, Braveheart, the worst is over and we have survived it,"

Tess wasn't dumb, she knew this wasn't what he had actually said but she didn't care, he would tell her in his own time. For now she just let herself rest against his chest, soaking in his presence to ward off the sudden chill invading her bones.

All too soon someone was asking for Éomer and she had to pull away, her hand searching for her sword as the horselord stood.

"Find Masters Meriadoc and Peregrin," he urged her he pulled her to her feet, a serious expression back on his face that broke for just a second when she tried to give him a weak smile.

"I will find you again soon," he promised, bending to press another kiss to her temple before turning away from her.

Tess stayed where she was for a moment, eyes scanning the living and the dead in an effort to catch sight of the two Hobbits.

"Merry? Pippin?" her voice cracked slightly and she tried to wet her lips against the ashy dust that clung to them. With numb feet she walked forward and called again, stopping every now and again to ask a passing soldier if they had seen either one of her friends.

A few 'no's and a couple of 'yes's later she found the pair hunched together in the dirt, their faces grimy but for the clean tracks on their cheeks where tears had run down.

"M-Merry! Pippin!" Tess choked back her sobs as she stumbled towards them, both looking up as she neared. Less than a foot away she tripped but she just used the momentum to fall to her knees and encircle both halflings into her arms, pulling them both securely into a tight embrace. Their arms flew around her with crushing force and she felt tears against her neck as they silently cried for their kinsmen, for Sam and Frodo.

No words were said between the three of them, instead they sought comfort through physical touch, clinging to each other tightly as the world moved on around them.

XXXX

Naomi had been walking slowly through the halls on her new cane, her leg strong enough now that she no longer needed crutches, when all of a sudden she felt it.

Minas Tirith quaked just slightly beneath her feet for several long moments and a gust of wind swept through the open doorways feeling like a cool balm on a stifling evening before everything went suddenly still again.

But it was not the same, she could feel a shift in the way the city held itself, smelt a sweetness from the gardens that hadn't been there before and saw a crispness in the light as it shone through one of the marble arched windows. In her body she suddenly felt a lightness, like a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders that she hadn't even known she was carrying until it was gone.

"They've done it," she whispered even before she knew what any of this meant but when the words left her lips she knew them to be true.

"They've done it!" Naomi cried again and she hobbled faster towards her usual balcony garden on her cane.

She neared the archway and already she could hear the voices of the people below as they gave cheer and cried and sang as their hearts lifted.

"Éowyn! Éowyn! They've done it!" the blonde called as she descended into the courtyard where the Shield Maiden was staring out over the city although she turned at the call of her name.

"Naomi!" Éowyn cried as she ran forward to meet her friend, glistening tears running down her cheeks as they embraced tightly.

"The darkness has gone and the Shadow in my heart has been lifted," the woman of Rohan sobbed out though a smile was on her face as she pulled back to look at her friend at arm's length.

"I no longer wish to fight! I only wish now to plant a garden and love all things that grow," Éowyn said with such conviction and passion that she laughed.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, but that sounds wonderful," Naomi nodded with a laugh as her own tears raced down her face. The pair embraced again tightly when a pair of boots against stone reached their ears.

"Éowyn!" Faramir called as his swung through the archway out of breath, he'd obviously run to get there.

"Faramir!" Éowyn cried back and Naomi freed the woman so that she could run to the man who was dashing towards them.

They met each other halfway and Faramir swept the Shield Maiden up in his arms to kiss her.

"Would that your brother be here so that I may ask him of him your hand in marriage," the ranger said when at last he lowered the blonde woman to the ground.

"Would that he be here so that I may not care for his answer and say yes nonetheless," the Shield Maiden answered and Naomi let out a cheer of pure joy.

She had been waiting restlessly for days while Faramir tossed and turned with the idea, unbeknownst to Éowyn, and was so glad that the pair had found each other.

She quickly became overwhelmed with her emotions and was making for a near-by bench when a shadow caught her eye.

In the archway behind Faramir and Éowyn stood a figure cloaked in black and in the back of her mind sprang the feeling of a memory.

'But from where?' she asked herself as her direction changed and she made instead for the hall way. The figure moved slowly out of view and Naomi rushed to keep it in her sight as she stumbled up the stone steps into the doorway.

"Hello?"

She looked to her right but saw nothing and so looked to the left and was startled into dropping her cane when the figure in the black hood suddenly appeared and rushed towards her.

XXX

One good thing about walking in an army was that if you wanted to hide from someone it wasn't a hard thing to do. Éomer had promised to find her again but at current Tess did not want to be found. A hollow feeling of melancholy had set into her heart that made her despondent and she wanted nothing more than to be unaware of herself and her surroundings until after she had had the chance to sleep.

She was told she would have that chance soon enough as they marched back towards greener land, Aragorn wished to make camp near the Anduin as apposed to where they had the previous night. No one wished to be anywhere near the shadow of the old gates of Mordor and so the walking began, with all available horses being used to transport the wounded.

Another shiver ran through her body and she wrapped her red cloak around her body tighter. She had also pilfered Erchirion's navy cloak and with that thrown about her shoulders she effectively hid the bright colour of her own cloak and blended more easily with those around her.

Yet even with her masterful disguise Pippin had still managed to find her.

She did not mind so much because the Hobbit was also seeking solitude, so she had not tried to move away and he had not tried to initiate conversation.

'Tess,'

The call of her name startled her slightly and she looked up from where she'd been burning a hole into the earth. No one in front of her was looking at her however so she turned just slightly to see if it was Pippin, but he too had his eyes trained on his feet.

'Tess,'

The call echoed out again and she looked more thoroughly around herself but still she saw no one looking at her or trying to get her attention.

Her lips formed the letter 'P' in preparation to ask Pippin if he could hear anything when a shadow caught her attention from out of the corner of her eye.

'Tesssss.'

The world seemed to have slowed, a figure cloaked in a hood as black as night was moving slowly towards her, the men around it somehow not seeing it as it moved like ink through a grey sea.

In the back of her mind a warning bell was going off but it was overpowered as she watched in mesmerised fascination as the figure grew ever closer.

Her sternum started to burn and she thought of the medallion she had stored there, wondered if this figure was somehow setting it off.

She took a breath in to ask a question as the figure closed the distance between them but before she could say anything it moved through her like a ghost passing through a wall.

A freezing burn settled into her bones and suddenly it was like the air was being sucked from her lips, her lungs emptying in one smooth exhale while an iron band wrapped around her ribs to prevent her from filling them again. Her cry of anguish was trapped within her chest, her hands rushing to her throat as if to pull away an invisible force that was tightening and tightening and tightening its grip. Her left hand flew to find Pippin's shoulder in an attempt to garner attention to her situation but with the movement of her arm vertigo swamped her mind, making her head feel like it was spinning off her neck and everything whirled as she went crashing to the ground.

Pippin had been slowly walking just a few steps behind Tess, head hung in silent thought, when the woman had stilled suddenly.

"Tess?" his voice cracked from the harsh sobbing he'd done earlier and she appeared not to have heard him as he drew level with her.

"Tess? What-?" her hand abruptly reached out for him, her fingers brushing against his sleeve before she dropped face down to the ground like a pile of stone.

"Tess!" Pippin yelled as he dove to his knees next to her head and pushed her onto her back, the men around him were suddenly yelling for healers 'The Lady has fallen!' and clearing a space.

"Tess!? What's wrong!?" Pippin didn't understand, she'd started shaking. Violently shaking, all her limbs jolting like she'd been struck by lightning.

Worse than all that was the sound.

It was like her throat had closed up, wheezes pushing through her teeth before shallow sucks were raked back in. Her hands flailed as she scratched at her chest and throat, her eyes horrifically wide as they darted around in panic as if looking at things that weren't there. Froth suddenly started to bubble between her lips as she seized on the ground, her right leg flying up in a kick that almost cost a man who'd gotten too close his face.

"Pippin!" Éomer's voice echoed out as he broke into the circle, falling to his knees at the woman's right side and looking for what could be wrong.

"What happened!?" the lord asked but Pippin's mouth just flailed as he tried to get words out.

"I don't-! I don't know she…she just collapsed! She just-!"

"Tess, look at me, look at me!" the horselord ordered as he pulled her partially into his lap, cradling her shoulders in the crook of his left arm as his right hand brushed against her cheek in an effort to get her to look at him. Her gaze was starting to go misty, her eye lids drooping as her body continued to run out of air.

"Slow breaths, slow breaths, come, with me now," he demonstrated by breathing in slowly and releasing, hoping that she would follow by example. But her eyes remained unseeing and her seizing was starting to slow to little tremors, from her nose two bright lines of blood started to seep out, startlingly bright against the paling tone of her skin.

She was almost at her end.

More voices filled the area and Éomer heard Aragorn before he saw him, knew that Gimli, Legolas and Merry would be right on his tail.

"Aragorn!" Éomer's voice was shaky as his grip tightened on the fading girl.

The ex-ranger dropped to his knees and felt over her throat, checked her eyes, stuck his fingers into the back of the woman's mouth.

Tess' eyes were just rolling into the back of her head when Aragorn suddenly withdrew his hand, raised it high above his head and then pummelled his fist down hard on her chest.

The reaction was instantaneous, her body snapped from the ground, her head turned to the left and she vomited.

The liquid expelled from her lips was at first black in colour but after three retches it turned coppery brown and then red.

Blood.

Congealed matter hit the ground with a series of sickening 'splat's and Éomer felt a lump form in his own throat as the small woman quaked in his hold, his arms the only thing stopping her from collapsing into the vile mess.

When at last her gagging ended she rolled herself back towards Éomer's chest, falling weakly against it as she greedily sucked in air. Bloody lines were tracked into her skin, congealing at the corner of her mouth and still dripping off her chin.

None of this mattered to the man however when her beautiful eyes opened.

Burning.

Everything was burning.

Her bones, her muscles, her insides, nothing seemed to be untouched as cold fire licked against her body.

Her mind rebelled against the feeling but she couldn't control her limbs as they bucked in different directions.

Why couldn't she breathe!?

Raw panic settled into her as she tried to see past the fog that had covered her eyes.

She was conscious of someone touching her but she couldn't hear them, it was like someone was holding her head underwater.

As dark spots started to pinprick her hazy vision she suddenly remembered something.

Begonias.

She remembered Begonias, the white flowers that the young boy from Minas Tirith had given her as the company set out. She remembered the feeling of the soft petals, the firm green stems, the rough twine. She remembered their meaning, 'Beware'. Could it have been the assassins? Or something to come? She remembered the aged stare of the young woman holding him, remembered the trembles that ran through her body as the woman's blue gaze flooded her mind. It felt like her very soul was being ripped from her body and scanned like a small, insignificant piece of paper.

Suddenly her soul was shoved back into her body as a huge force pounded against her chest, she could feel it even through her armor. At that moment something in her throat shifted and with a rush all the burning in her body gushed out through her mouth.

She gagged and gagged and gagged for what felt like hours, her ribs painfully protesting the movement of her retching.

But when she was done, oh when she was done?

She was free.

Air rushed into her lung and the pressure building in her head eased off.

Colour burst brilliantly back into the world, much more than she had ever seen.

Her movements stilled as she left herself reveal in the sensation of breathing again. She felt a hard body against her right shoulder and she looked up to see who it was.

Her gaze locked onto Éomer's face, trailing across the expanse of his cheeks, following the way his golden hair hung down, staring at the beard along his jaw, sighing at the sight of his lips and tracing up the strong line of his nose.

She reached his eyes.

Oh, his eyes.

Those beautiful hazel orbs, wide with a panic and fear that she no longer understood.

She'd always liked his eyes, the way that they grew darker when his emotions peaked and the way the brown melted into the green so smoothly.

'Huh...I never knew...there was blue in his eyes...'

Indeed, along the outside of his irises was a ring of pale blue.

Just the corner of her lips twitched, ever so faintly, at the thought of his whole world being there in his eyes.

The brown of freshly turned earth mixed with the green of the grassland, watched over by the crisp blue sky that made up the almost endless plains of his homeland.

She could see it now.

See herself as she walked through the thigh high sea of swaying blades that shimmered in greens and golds, the tips of her fingers brushing against the fine stalks as she flared her hands out beside her.

She could feel herself shivering faintly at the soft, crisp breeze coming down from the mountains to ruffle at her hair and caress her cheek like she was a long lost friend.

Tess took a deep breath in and could smell the heavy scent of fresh tilled earth as her toes sunk into the ground, dirt squeezing between her toes like teasing fingers. A rumble started up and grew louder, the world shaking slightly as a herd of wild horses cantered by, their glossy coats shining in the sun while their muscles rippled powerfully beneath.

Then Éomer blinked.

And the vision of the plains started to fade around the very edges, the landscape started receding, melting back into his eyes.

She was content to let it go.

Until something different and out of place moved into her line of sight.

A door.

Some faint part of her brain set of alarm bells.

Doors didn't stand all alone in fields.

She wondered where it went.

A cold chill ran down her spine.

The door, in a very dream-like movement that felt normal to her, was suddenly in front of her. Close enough that she could reach out and grasp the handle with ease should she choose to.

The vision of the plains was almost completely gone now, but she wasn't staring at Éomer's face any more, all she could see was the door.

Almost without her permission her hand rose to lightly touch the handle, the metal was cold, but the burning kind, so icy that it pained her fingers to touch it.

With detached interest she let her fingers get heavy, just enough that the handle pushed down and the catch released.

The door swung open with a sudden gust of wind and a gasp left her lips at what was beyond.

Éomer could still feel panic running through his veins even after her breathing started to even out fear prickling when after her initial huge gasp of air she seemed to just deflate but she simply curled herself towards him, her face looking up at him with such awe and endearment.

"Tess?" he asked so softly he wondered if she even heard.

Her wheezing pants slowed until she was breathing normally.

Her body lost its iron like tension, her leg lowering gently to the ground, her hands unclenching and her shoulders sagging. It seemed that if it was not for her armor holding her in a slightly rigid form she might actually have turned into a puddle.

She was totally limp in his arms.

And her eyes were completely concentrated on him.

For the longest time she just stared unreservedly.

At his hair, at his jaw, at his lips and his nose.

Looking at him and seeing him.

Then her searing gaze latched onto his eyes.

And it was like she could see into him, into his innermost thoughts and hopes and fears and memories.

She was so still, her breaths so even and untroubled, as if everything before and everything after couldn't possibly matter as long as she kept looking.

His thumb brushed ever so slightly against her cheekbone, wondering what is was that she could see in his eyes that could calm her so.

He could even feel his own tension and worry leaking out of his body as he kept motionless for her, wanting her to be at peace as long as she could.

But then something changed.

A shiver ran through her body.

And a mist started to leak into her gaze, her eyes started to glaze over and it was like she was looking into him, then through him, and then past him, looking at something far away.

"No...no Tess! No!"

He brushed aside her fringe, imploringher to refocus.

As if he was no longer in front of her.

"Tess...please...,"

He rubbed her cheek again, hoping to catch her attention.

Because that light inside was fading.

"Please keep looking at me!"

He squeezed her shoulder with his other hand, urging her to see him.

Her brown eyes were going blind to this world.

"Tess, look at me. LOOK AT ME!"

He shook her, ordering her.

Because if there was one thing she hated it was being told what to do.

But she couldn't hear him.

"No... no no! Keep your eyes open! Tess!"

He pressed his forehead against hers, begging her, because she would hate that too.

She should fight against this.

"Please! Please! Do not take her from me!"

Praying to the Gods because it couldn't be her time.

But she was just so tired.

Pleading with them because surely she wasn't ready to leave them.

Leave him.

And this place was so familiar.

Howling because her eyes had closed.

Because he wasn't ready to lose her.

She would shut them, just for a little while

Not when he finally had hope again.

Not when it was finally all over.

Because it was finally all over.

She could rest now.

And Éomer watched as her chest rose with an inhale.

And he waited as her lungs greedily held onto the air.

And he cried as it left in one last soft exhale.

AUTHOR'S BABBLING:

I believe the expression for what I just did is "Come in, fuck shit up and leave."

For those interested in what Éomer said:

"Mín fús bréostcofa, mín lufræden, hit sy ofer! Hit sy ádrogen,"

It roughly translates to:

"My braveheart, my love, it is over! It is finished,"

The words are in Old English because there aren't actually any Rohirric dictionaries out there, but Tolkien apparently based some of the language off Old English so I like to think I can get away with it.

Anyways,

Much love to those still out there (it's been, what? Three years since I last updated? Man I'm terrible) and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

(Blows Kisses) MWUAH!

AxM