Part 7

Posted: January 2004
Author: Khylaren

*****

Chapter 7

All in all, they were lucky.

The worst of the battle was over, and there was no one to greet Erin and Pippin as they rode out onto the fields below the city. Pippin had his sword out and was ready to fight if the need arose, but from the looks of things, it would not come to that.

The enemy was either dead, or fleeing for their lives.

We won this round, Erin thought, her throat tightening as her eyes took in the field. But just barely. There were so many dead. Their blood had stained the grass red and it ran like miniature rivers across the field, pooling in places where the ground dipped low. She could not bear to look at their faces, so still and unnatural. She was afraid she would see someone she knew.

Pippin's grasp around her middle tightened suddenly. "Look," he said, pointing. "I can see the banner of Gondor."

Erin looked to see where he had pointed, and felt a momentary surge of relief. Beside the banner that Pippin had pointed out was another, equally familiar banner of splendid green and white.

She urged their horse faster, gripping with her calves the way she had been taught. She could see men standing by the banners, and the familiar glint of gold as the setting sun reflected off of a crested helmet. The ground passed by them in a blur as she focused her attention ahead of her.

A hand reached up and caught their horse's bridle when they reached the edge of the temporary camp, and she looked down in surprise.

Legolas looked up at her and gave her a faint smile. "Hello, mellonen," he said. "I saw you and Pippin come across the field and thought I should greet you."

Erin slid from the horse, reaching up to help Pippin down. Legolas beat her to it, however, easily lifting the hobbit from the horse's back and setting him on the ground.

Pippin beamed up at the elf. "Hello, Legolas. I am happy to see you alive."

Legolas inclined his head briefly. "As I am to see you, Peregrine Took." He turned his attention to Erin once more. "What has brought you to the battlefield, Erin? And why are you dressed in such a fashion?"

Erin pulled her helmet off and gave him a brief grin. "Long story, my friend. Can I save it for later? I need to find Aragorn right away."

He eyed her shorn hair with surprise, but nodded. "Very well. I will hold you to that. Come, Aragorn is speaking with Prince Imrahil and King Éomer."

"Éomer lives?" Erin asked, breathing a sigh of relief. "Good, because what I have to say will interest him too."

Legolas cocked his head slightly in question, but continued to lead her to where Aragorn and the others stood. Their faces were serious, and it was obvious that some type of debate was going on, if Aragorn's heated gestures were any indication.

"Already you have raised the banner of the Kings and displayed the tokens of Elendil's House. Will you suffer these to be challenged?" Éomer was asking.

Aragorn shook his head. "No," he said quietly. "But I deem the time is unripe, and I have no mind for strife except with our enemy and his servants."

The tall, blonde man next to Éomer could only be Prince Imrahil, and Erin was startled to realize it was the same man who had sent for help when they had arrived with Éowyn.

"Your words, lord, are wise," Imrahil said, nodding his head. "If one who is kinsman of the Lord Denethor may counsel you in this matter. He is strong-willed and proud, but old. His mood has been strange since his oldest son was stricken down. Yet I would not have you remain like a beggar at the door."

"Not a beggar," Aragorn answered, noting the arrival of Legolas, Erin and Pippin with a brief nod. "Say a captain of the Rangers, who are unused to cities and houses of stone." He gestured, and Elladan stepped forward, his hand touching his heart briefly. "Have the banner furled for now and keep it safe in your possession, until the time calls for it again."

Elladan nodded, and turned away, but not before Erin saw his face. Something in his _expression made her clutch his arm as he passed her.

"What is it?" she asked softly, looking up at him worriedly.

The dark haired elf paused and looked down at her, his face a mask of grief and worry. He opened his mouth and closed it, shaking his head. Finally he managed to speak. "Elrohir fell."

Erin felt her stomach drop at those two words. "Is he…?" She didn't want to say it.

Elladan shook his head. "No, he lives, by the grace of the Valar. But he is gravely wounded." He took a deep breath. "Melaphríl is with him."

Her grip on his arm tightened briefly as she shared his pain and worry. "If I can, I will come and see him," she promised. "But wait a moment, for what I have to tell Aragorn will interest you too."

Elladan nodded gravely, and waited.

Erin sighed, and turned back to Aragorn, who was regarding her expectantly. She heard Éomer's startled exclamation at seeing her there, but did not look at him.

"I would say I am surprised at seeing you here, Erin Smith, but somehow, I am not." Aragorn looked faintly bemused. "You seem to have a habit of turning up where I least expect to see you."

She stepped forward and took a deep breath. "I need your help, Aragorn. That's why I'm here." Gandalf's words came to her then. "It is said that in times of old, the hands of the King were the hands of a healer."

"I am not King," Aragorn said, his eyes glinting briefly.

"Not yet," she heard Prince Imrahil mutter under his breath.

Erin took another breath. "Éowyn and Merry have fallen, struck by the Black Shadow. Lady Galadriel gave me a message – she said to bring Elessar to the Houses of Healing. He will know what to do." She looked expectantly up at him and saw him nod.

"I know a bit of healing," he said cautiously. "Not the skill of my foster-father, to be certain, nor that of my foster-brother." His _expression tightened and he nodded again. "If the Lady of Lórien has said it, then there must be some good that I can do."

"Éowyn lives?" Éomer asked softly, reaching out to grasp Erin's arm and turning her towards him. "Do you speak truly?"

Erin nodded. "We didn't get the chance to tell you before you rode off. She's unconscious, but alive."

Éomer pulled her against him, nearly crushing her in his embrace. "I did not know," he said, his voice breaking. "Oh, that I did not know my sister lived still. Thank you, lady." He released her from his bone-crushing embrace and Erin staggered back from him.

"You are welcome," she said somewhat shakily. "I only wish we could have told you sooner."

"Éowyn is here?" Elladan did not bother to conceal his shock. "What brought her here?"

"The same thing that made me go with her," Erin answered quietly, looking at each of them in turn. "The need to do something. We could not stay behind while those we loved fought the battle for our freedom."

He nodded, and turned to Aragorn. He looked torn for a moment, before he finally spoke. "I will go with you, muindor."

"As will I," Éomer added.

"It is well," Aragorn replied, already mounted on his horse. "For if she has fallen to the Black Shadow, perhaps your voices can reach her. You, Pippin, you will come as well. For it may well be your voice that will reach Merry's ears if all else should fail."

Legolas lifted Pippin and placed him in front of Aragorn. "I will stay, mellonen," the elf said softly, looking up at Aragorn. "For Elrohir's sake, and for the sake of the others who have fallen." His face was briefly contorted in grief. "Many songs will be sung this night."

Aragorn nodded and turned his horse, riding swiftly towards the city. Éomer and Elladan riding close behind him.

Erin watched them go and felt as if a huge burden had been suddenly lifted from her shoulders. "I did it," she murmured, watching their forms grow small in the distance. "I actually did it." She turned and looked at Legolas and managed a half-smile. "I guess if I felt like indulging in hysterics, this would be a good time."

He regarded her seriously. "Do you feel like," he paused for a moment, struggling with the unfamiliar words. "Indulging in hysterics?"

She thought for a moment, and slowly shook her head. "No, actually. I don't. I don't know if I'm just in denial, or if I'm getting better at dealing with things." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "What I really feel like is a nice long hot bath and something to eat, but it'll have to wait."

"Who are you, lady?" Prince Imrahil interrupted them, his voice soft. "I saw you on the fields earlier and thought you were of Rohan, but I can see now that you are not."

Erin ran a hand through her shorn locks and sighed. "It is a long story, my Lord. It would probably be simplest to say I'm a traveler from afar, and I'm a friend to the lady Éowyn."

"It was she that slew the Nazgûl, the Witch King of Angmar," Imrahil said wonderingly. "It was said that no man could kill such a creature."

"Then perhaps it was fate that guided her to the fields of Pelennor," Legolas said. "For the Shield Maiden's sword to end his existence."

"She didn't do it by herself," Erin added quietly. "Merry helped. His sword struck the blow that distracted the Nazgûl long enough for Éowyn to finish him. She would have been killed, otherwise."

"You saw this?" Imrahil asked, surprised.

Erin nodded, shivering with the memory of it. "Oh yeah," she said softly. "I saw the whole thing."

Prince Imrahil looked at her appraisingly. "Then perhaps, one day, when the war has ended, you should write it down as you saw it, so that the memory of the Lady and the Hobbit's brave deeds will be preserved."

"I'm no historian," Erin protested.

"But you are a scholar in your land, are you not?" Legolas asked, looking at her keenly. "Surely this would be a task well suited to your hand." He smiled briefly. "Much better than knife wielding, I would expect."

Erin put her hands on her hips and looked up at him. "Hey, I'll have you know I personally dealt with two bad guys on my very own." She looked down at her chest and grimaced at the stains. "I've got the gore to prove it."

Legolas chuckled. "Well done then, Erin. You are alive, and that is truly all that counts."

~ * ~

She followed Legolas through the camp as they headed to where the healers had set up tents. He stopped in front of a large tent and opened the flap for her. She stepped inside and he followed, closing the flap.

Elrohir lay on a pallet on the floor of the tent, his eyes closed tightly in pain. Melaphríl knelt beside him, and Erin saw his eyes were closed as well, though he opened them when he heard them enter.

"Do you need anything, Melaphríl?" Legolas asked softly. "Is there anything I can bring you?"

The Lórien elf shook his head and looked up with a weary smile. "No, meldir. Hannon chen."

"How is Elrohir?" Erin asked hesitantly.

Melaphríl smiled more genuinely this time. "He is better, Erin. I thank you for asking. Would you like to keep him company for a moment? There are others I must tend to."

Erin nodded, and made her way to Elrohir's pallet, sinking to her knees beside him. Without thinking about it, she reached for his hand and clasped it gently with hers. Melaphríl nodded with approval.

"If he wakes, tell him where I have gone. Do not let him speak much. There is water beside you, if he should ask for it." A sly breeze crept in, cooling the tent when he opened the flap and stepped through it.

Legolas took a seat on the ground beside Erin, and they both watched Elrohir as he rested.

"So, mellonen," Legolas said softly, turning his eyes from the unconscious elf to Erin's face. "Tell me what has happened since I saw you last at Edoras."

"It won't disturb him?" she asked, raising her face to look up at him.

Legolas shook his head. "No, it will do him good to hear familiar voices. He can hear us, though he is not awake. He knows we are here, worried for him."

She nodded. "Supposedly that is true of people who are in comas. They can hear what is going on around them." She patted the hand she held gently. "I'm glad to see you, Elrohir. I hope you will get better soon." Erin glanced at Legolas and smiled sheepishly; she was relieved to see he wasn't looking at her like she was a nut.

"You cut your hair," Legolas remarked, looking critically at her. "It looks terrible."

"Thanks," Erin replied, snorting. "I imagine it does. Éowyn used her embroidery scissors to do it, and we weren't really worried about making it look pretty."

"What made you decide to come?" he asked, frowning. "I thought you wanted to go home."

Erin sighed, looking down at Elrohir for a moment. "I am home, Legolas. I was given a choice to return to my world, or stay here, and I chose to stay." She snuck a peek at him and saw no disapproval on his face, only curiosity.

"Tell me," he said, folding his arms across his knees and giving her his undivided attention.

So she did. She began with seeing Éowyn dressed up in her soldier disguise and following her to the barn. She told him about confronting Éowyn about not following Elladan, and the weird sensation that the words she was speaking were not her own.

"I got so cold, suddenly. It was like having a bucket of icy water dumped over my head. Suddenly, the next thing I know, I'm back in the woods of England, and I'm lost again." She realized he did not know about what had happened to her when she was seven, and quickly explained.

"It was the same man and woman you saw as a child?" he asked, when she finished.

Erin nodded. "Yes. It was them. They explained things as cryptically as they could and then led me to a path that split into two forks. I'd seen the path before, in Galadriel's mirror. Of course I didn't understand what it meant at the time." She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Why is it you elves can't ever come out and say exactly what it is you mean?"

He laughed lightly. "Where would the fun in that be? We live so long, pen-neth. We do what we can to amuse ourselves."

"Bah," she snorted. "Elves."

Legolas smiled. "Then what happened?"

"The path split into opposite directions. The man and woman told me that one would lead to my heart's truest desire, the other would not. Neither would leave me completely miserable, but that there would be sorrow no matter which I chose." She sighed again. "Some choice. Then they did the bright shiny light thing and disappeared before I could ask them anything else."

"They did not tell you who they were?" Legolas asked gently.

Erin shook her head. "The man said something about the blessings of Ilúvatar. Is that one of the Valar?"

Legolas shook his head. "Ilúvatar is the creator of all. The Valar serve him."

"Your mythos confuses me greatly, I'll have you know. Some day, I'm going to pin someone down and have them explain it to me so I can understand it." Erin said, shaking her head.

The elf grinned. "If we all survive the war to come, mellonen, I would be happy to answer any questions you might have. Though you might ask Gandalf. He knows a great deal about the Valar. Much more than I."

~ * ~

Elrohir had not so much as stirred by the time Melaphríl returned, but the healer looked greatly relieved after he examined him.

"He is truly resting, now," he said softly, stroking Elrohir's hair back from his brow. "A true healing sleep. He will not awaken for a day or more, but he will recover."

"You look as if you could use some rest yourself, mellonen," Legolas said, rising to his feet. "You will do no good to others if you are weakened yourself."

Erin watched Legolas gather a pile of blankets and spread them next to Elrohir's pallet. "Lay down beside him so that he knows you are near. Take some rest, for you have most certainly earned it this night."

"Is there anything I can do or get for you?" Erin asked, watching the elf slide into the blankets and curl his body protectively around Elrohir's.

"No, thank you, Erin," Melaphríl replied quietly. "Legolas is right. I am far more weary than I realized."

Erin felt a pang of envy as she saw Melaphríl place a soft kiss on Elrohir's forehead, before settling his body beside him once more. To have such love for another – and to have that love returned just as strongly. She wondered if she would ever be lucky enough to experience it.

They blew out the candle as they left, leaving the two elves together in the comfort of each other's presence.

~ * ~

They walked in companionable silence through the camp, which had over the hours become more orderly than when she had first arrived. More tents had been pitched, and several campfires burned. The smell of cooking food wafted on the evening breeze, and she could hear the low murmurings of conversation as the men took the opportunity to relax.

They found Gimli sitting on a rock, cleaning the largest of his axes with slow, methodical precision. He glanced up at Legolas and Erin as they approached, before turning back to his work.

"How is the elf?" he asked gruffly.

"Elrohir will heal," answered Legolas with a brief smile at the dwarf. "Melaphríl is with him now."

"Good," Gimli replied with a nod.

"Do not tell me you were worried about him," Legolas teased lightly, watching the dwarf carefully oil the blade.

"Hmmph," Gimli snorted, looking up at his friend with a scowl. "Not a word about it, Legolas." He turned his glance to Erin and looked her up and down, frowning. "What are you doing here, lass? You should be back at Edoras."

"I should," Erin agreed with a sigh. "But I'm not. I came with Éowyn and Merry. In fact, I'm heading back to the city now to check on them."

"What has the hobbit done now?" Gimli asked, sliding his axe into its customary resting place on his back.

"He was hurt protecting Éowyn," Erin said. "Will you come with us? I'm sure he'd like to see you."

Gimli rose from the rock and nodded. "Aye," he replied. "I think I will. It will be good to see the lad."

The dwarf grumbled about having to ride again, but Erin could tell there was no strength to his complaints. Legolas teased him for it, and had Erin giggling by the time they reached the gates of the city. It felt good to laugh. There had been so little to laugh about lately.

They reached the houses of healing and met Aragorn on the steps just outside.

"How are they?" Erin asked anxiously, looking up at the Ranger's weary face.

Aragorn managed a smile. "They are recovering, Erin. Pippin is with Merry and will not leave his side. Already the hobbit has asked for food, so I think he will be all right."

"And Éowyn?" Erin's throat tightened with worry.

"Elladan and Éomer are with her. She also has awakened, as if from a bad dream. She was relieved to see her brother and her love still lived, for in the nightmare she was trapped in, she believed them both lost to her." Aragorn passed his hand over his face, blinking tiredly.

"You look weary, mellonen," Legolas said softly, putting his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "Even the strength of the Dúnedain is not endless." He smiled faintly.

"Soon I will go and rest, Legolas," Aragorn replied. "For tomorrow morning I must speak with Prince Imrahil and King Éomer. A great decision lies ahead of us, and I must have a clear mind."

Legolas nodded, dropping his hand away. "Go, then, and rest."

"Sleep well, laddie," Gimli said. "We will be with you tomorrow."

Aragorn nodded and turned, walking as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"He is not yet ready to accept what will be," Legolas murmured softly, watching Aragorn leave. "But already he feels the responsibility of it."

"Aye," Gimli agreed quietly. "That he does."

They spoke no more of Aragorn, but entered the room where Merry and Éowyn were resting, eager to see their friends.

Éowyn smiled when she saw Erin, her fair face even paler than usual against the pillow. Elladan held one of her hands, and Éomer held the other.

"They told me you survived the battle, and I am relieved to see it is true. How fare you, my friend?" Éowyn asked softly.

Erin settled on a chair beside Elladan, blinking back tears of relief at seeing her friend awake. "Not even a scratch on me," she replied, her throat tight. "I'm so glad to see you awake. I was worried about you."

"What about me?" a voice piped up from behind her, and Erin turned. She couldn't help but smile as Merry looked indignantly at her.

"Yes, Merry. I'm glad to see you awake too," she replied, rising from the chair to see him. "How are you?"

"Hungry," he replied. "And I want a pipe. But they will not let me smoke it just yet. They are afraid it will bother him." He gestured to the bed beside him, where a man Erin did not know lay. She glanced at him curiously, wondering who he was.

He was sleeping at the moment; golden lashes lay in stark contrast to the paleness of his cheeks. Dark shadows, almost like bruises, lay beneath his eyes, and even in slumber, he looked utterly exhausted. His hair was long and wavy, lying like a dark gold cloud on his pillow. Several days' worth of stubble, the same fair color as his hair, covered his chin. He was bare-chested, covered by blankets to preserve his modesty, and she could tell nothing more about him other than his chest and arms were well muscled.

"His name is Faramir," Pippin answered her unspoken question quietly. He ladled more soup into Merry's waiting mouth before continuing. "He is the son of the former steward of Gondor, Lord Denethor."

Erin's eyes widened. "The one who tried to burn his son alive?" she whispered, glancing at Faramir's sleeping form once more. "Then Gandalf was able to stop him."

Pippin's small face clouded in misery. "But not before Lord Denethor doused himself in oil and set his own body on fire. Him, he could not save."

"We will not speak of such things now," a familiar voice spoke gruffly, and Erin turned her head, smiling as Gandalf entered the room. "He has no memory of it, and we will not remind him until he is well again. The shadow nearly had him."

Erin swallowed at his words, turning her gaze to Faramir. Despite the obvious strength in his body, he looked deceptively fragile, and she found herself wishing she could comfort him in some way. "How awful that must have been," she whispered.

Gandalf looked shrewdly at her a moment, then nodded. "His life has not ever been an easy one. Constantly overshadowed by his older brother, he could never find favor with his father, but was told only what a disappointment he was. He has spent his whole life seeking his own worth, and was told he had none."

She frowned, angered at the thought that anyone could do that to their own child. "That's terrible. What a bastard."

The wizard nodded again. "The only good thing Denethor ever did for his youngest son was to make sure he was well educated. In that, he did not stint." His blue eyes glinted briefly. "I had the privilege of tutoring young Faramir for several years. I found him a most apt pupil."

The head healer chose at that time to make her disapproval of so many visitors at such a late hour known, and Erin made her farewells to Éowyn, promising to visit later. Éomer and Elladan pressed kisses against Éowyn's fair cheeks, and added their promises as well. Only Pippin refused to leave, and Gandalf cajoled the woman into letting the hobbit stay.

The night was considerably cooler, and Erin wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders in an effort to stay warm. She bid Legolas and Gimli goodnight, and watched them leave with Elladan. Éomer hesitated at the top of the steps, looking back at Erin.

"I shall go and see about procuring you a place to stay while you are in the city, Erin," Gandalf said, looking down at her. "I think that King Éomer would like to speak with you privately. Shall I meet you here in an hour?"

Erin nodded gratefully. Her mind was reeling with the sudden realization that Éomer was King. She'd heard it all day, but it hadn't really registered until just now. She murmured her agreement, unaware that Gandalf had already left.

"Erin," Éomer began.

"We need to talk," she finished, feeling a knot form in the pit of her stomach. He nodded, and offered his hand to her.

~ * ~

The place he chose would have been perfect for a lover's tryst, if that was their reason for being there. Somehow, Erin doubted that was what was on Éomer's mind as he gently pushed her into the empty stall and closed the door behind them. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, grateful that it was at least a few degrees warmer in the stables than it was outside.

He stood for a moment, looking at her, before dropping his gaze.

"You already know what it is I am going to say," he said quietly, looking back up at her. "I can read it in your face."

"You're a King, now, Éomer," she replied. "I'm just a wanderer who happened to stumble into your arms one day."

He smiled faintly and nodded, obviously remembering that morning at Helm's Deep. "I am sorry," he began, when she stopped his words by holding up her hand.

"Please, don't be. I'd make a lousy Queen, anyway. I think somehow I knew it wouldn't work," Erin said slowly. "I think I always knew." It was true, she realized. Even now, though her stomach was knotted from anxiety, she was far from heartbroken. It was more disappointing than anything else, but certainly not nearly as devastating as it could have been.

Éomer nodded sadly. "I could have loved you as a soldier. But I cannot as a King. Do you forgive me?"

Erin looked up at him and managed a smile. "There is nothing to forgive, Éomer. We had a few kisses together, not much more than that. It's not as if you proposed to me and now you are reneging on your word. Though I will admit I wish things had been different."

He let out the breath he had been holding and smiled weakly. "You are taking this far better than I could ever have expected."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Actually, she was surprised that she didn't feel worse than she did, but it was relieving, in a way. "Would you have preferred I got hysterical and cried my eyes out?"

This time he gave her a real smile. "No," he said. "Most definitely not."

"Good," Erin replied. "Because quite honestly, I'm too tired for hysterics."

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "I am relieved that you are not angry with me. Though I wonder if I should be hurt."

Erin sighed, dropping her arms to her sides. "I will admit that your kisses made my knees go to jelly. Nobody kisses like you do. Does that make you feel any better?"

Éomer's smile widened slightly. "Yes. I think it does." He stepped closer, his arms reaching out and resting on her shoulders as he looked down at her. "May I?" he asked softly. "One last time?"

She nodded and rose on tiptoe to meet him halfway. His lips met hers almost chastely at first, before he pressed her against him and deepened the kiss. Her stomach fluttered at the velvety touch of his tongue against hers, and she found herself clutching at his arms to keep from losing her balance. He really is good at this, she thought deliriously, feeling his arm sweep behind her back to press her even closer. She was beginning to get dizzy from the lack of air when he finally released her, though his arm steadied her and kept her from falling. When her head finally cleared, she opened her eyes and saw the regret painfully etched on his handsome face.

He opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head.

"Don't," she said softly. "It's okay."

Éomer looked at her a moment longer, then nodded. He released his hold on her and stepped away. He cleared his throat, and asked softly, "What will you do now?"

She rubbed her arms, suddenly cold now that she no longer had his body warming her. "Stay in Gondor, for now. I've seen enough battle and death to last me the rest of my life. Éowyn won't be fighting any more battles for a while, and Elladan will probably leave her to fight with his brother and Aragorn. She'll need some company while you guys are off fighting. After that?" She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'll find something useful to do in Gondor. Or maybe I'll go back to Lothlórien, or even visit Imladris or the Shire. I honestly don't know."

He looked at her steadily. "You know you would be welcome in Edoras, Erin. I would make sure you had a place there. Éowyn would be glad of your company, I think."

Erin smiled faintly and shook her head. "No, I don't think that Edoras is the place for me, Éomer," she said quietly. "And not just because of what almost happened between us. I just don't feel like it's the place I belong."

Éomer nodded, as if her answer did not surprise him. "I understand. But remember my offer, should you change your mind. You will always be welcome in Rohan."

She looked up at him and managed a faint grin. "I'll remember that. Now, if you'd be so kind to escort me back to the houses of healing? Gandalf will be waiting for me, and I'm afraid I'll get lost. The streets look all the same to me."

He chuckled and offered her his arm. "You are a strange woman, Erin Smith," he said, smiling down at her. "I have enjoyed knowing you."

He left her standing at the bottom of the stairs that led to the houses of healing. She watched him leave and saw him turn back once, giving her a brief wave, before disappearing into the dark streets.

Erin sighed, climbing the first few steps before sitting down on them. Doubt worried at her, like a dog with a bone, and she leaned her head on her hands, waiting for Gandalf to return.

Did I give up too easily? Should I have convinced him to at least try? Or were my instincts right all along? That it wouldn't have worked, even if he does kiss like nobody I've ever met. Her lips still burned, slightly swollen from his kisses, and she ran her fingers idly over them. No, she decided abruptly. It was the right choice to simply agree with him. Because despite the way he made her feel physically, she realized she had never truly given him her heart.

"I found someone who has been looking for you," Gandalf's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Or, rather I should say, two someones. They were most persistent that they see you."

Erin lifted her head from her hands and looked up in surprise. Rúmil and Orophin stood beside the wizard, looking down at her with utterly neutral expressions.

"I have found a room for you at the Three Hens. Your friends have generously offered to escort you there, as I have rather pressing business elsewhere," Gandalf explained with a twinkle in his eye. "I hope you do not mind?"

"No," Erin answered faintly. "Thank you, Gandalf. It was more than I expected, really. I didn't exactly plan this part of my trip."

His soft chuckle surprised her. "No, I do not imagine that you did. Farewell, then, until our next meeting." He turned and paused, looking at the elves with a faint smile. "Do not be to hard on her, my friends. She has been through quite a bit this day."

Uh-oh, Erin thought, rising to her feet. Her legs and butt tingled from sitting on the steps too long, but she resisted the urge to rub the circulation back into them. Orophin held something up in front of her, and dropped it unceremoniously at her feet.

"My pack!" she exclaimed, picking it up with no small amount of wonder. "How did you ever find it? I thought I lost it when Ared took off."

Rúmil eyed her and shook his head. "Orophin caught your horse after the battle ended. He had not gone far."

"Thank you, Orophin," she said, turning to smile at her friend. Her smile faltered a moment as he glowered down at her. "What?"

"Do you remember what I said to you when I found out you were here?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

Erin nodded. "Yes," she answered in a small voice. "You're going to yell at me, aren't you?"

Orophin nodded. "And you are going to listen. Just as you promised."

"Oh," she said faintly. She looked up at him, sticking her chin out bravely. "Well, can I at least change out of these clothes and get a bath before you start yelling?"

Orophin smiled briefly. "Of course. You may even have something to eat first, if you wish. Because when the time comes, I want your undivided attention."

Erin uttered a small eeping noise when Rúmil took her arm. "We promised Haldir that we would give you a good scolding from him as well. It was the only way we could keep him from coming here and thrashing you the way you deserve."

"Lucky me, I guess," Erin grumbled.

Orophin nodded, and this time he grinned. "Having been on the other side of one of Haldir's scoldings, I can honestly say you are lucky indeed to have only myself and Rúmil to listen to." He took Erin's other arm, and they began to lead her towards the inn.

Rúmil chuckled as they walked. "Do remember the last time, muindor? I thought my legs were going to go numb on me, and I was worried that I would fall down." He glanced down at Erin and smirked. "Our brother can be long winded when he feels properly motivated."

Erin couldn't help but smile as she allowed her two friends to escort her to her new temporary home.

*****

previous | Chapter Index | next

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to: Khylaren