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Chapter soundtrack: 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World' by Tears for Fears.

♪ = cue music

☨ Chp. VIII ☨

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➳ Eretria's P.O.V

I step through Fangorn alone, breathing in the musky air which has become so familiar to me.  Going for a lonesome walk through the woods is something I usually find myself doing before leaving the academy to conduct a raid or simply go on a small adventure, however this time there is a harrowing feeling within the pit of my stomach.

The task at hand does bring quite the rush of anxiety, as this time I feel that I play a rather important role. Hell, Sharon is bloody disguised as me, meaning he is aware of my existence and clearly has an interest in causing me strife.

However, with Aragorn, Éomer, and Legolas by my side, I can't help but feel a comforting blanket of assurance. We have taken the bastard down once, and we sure as hell can do it a second time. Hopefully this time will be permanent.

I run my hand over the coarse wood of a gnarled tree, finding much comfort in the surrounding nature I have grown to call home. A low hum sounds throughout the dark woods, and I lightly smile, following the direction of the tune.

Breaking through a line of foliage, I find Treebeard and Quickbeam dwelling within a small clearing, their glossy leaves shining in the silver moonlight. The two ents communicate to each other in a series of low hums and acoustic creaks, unaware of my presence. For a peaceful moment in time, I step back and admire the two over grown shrubs and their ways, before breaking the silence.

"Hey Quickbeam, mind if I steal Old Treebeard for a chat?"

"Ha, hmm, if you wish, my friend. I will be over by the river, refreshing my roots." The young ent replies, before making his way towards the lightly rushing water with a series of creaks and loud thumps. I turn my attention to Treebeard, a light smile rested upon my face.

"What has come to trouble you, important it must be for you to come and visit in the late hours of the night. What matters lay on your mind, my little one?" Treebeard draws out, leaning himself down on a knee in order to lower his height.

"A very important matter has risen, and I may be gone for quite some time. You along with the other ents have done an amazing job guarding my academy for the last few years, and I now ask that you raise your guard, because the land is about to become even more treacherous." I inform, and Treebeard listens with immense attention. "As usual, Merry and Pippin will be the Masters of Fangorn whilst I am away, though if you have important matters please speak to Silver or Day, they are very intelligent when it comes to identifying threats."

The old ent processes my words, and I watch as his amber eyes deepen with understanding.

"Hm hoom, we will protect the children with rock and stone, no evil will pass through these woods. Without the entwines, ents no longer grow from nut and acorn. These children are that of our own." Treebeard groans in his low, raspy voice. I feel my spirits rise, knowing the kids are in safe hands, or should I say branches.

"I trust you, Treebeard. I always have. Thank you, for everything." I utter out, raising my hand out to the kneeling ent. He lowers his big wooden head, and I place my palm against his hardened bark, resting my forehead against his timber noggin.

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"We have honey cakes gifted from my little beornings, flasks of fresh Fangorn water, and lembas, right Legolas?" I question, tossing through the contents of my leather pouch.

"I had left Mirkwood in a rush once hearing of Aragorn's planned execution, and did not even consider to bring any supplies." The elf answers, causing me to raise a brow.

"So no lembas. I guess honey cakes will have to do."

With that, I sling the pouch over my shoulder and mount Marian. Aragorn rides on Marie, a black mare I had rescued as a foal. Éomer on Firefoot, a horse of Rohan. And Legolas on Eddie, a buckskin stallion we had stolen in a raid.

The kids line the dirt road, holding rather sad expressions, yet still managing to throw light smiles and waves as our steeds move forward in a single file. I had informed them that Éomer and I were to be gone for quite some time, yet didn't tell them the danger ahead in order to avoid upset.

Merry and Pippin wait at the end, aware of the threat we are yet to bring ourselves. It took some convincing to prevent them from joining, however they came to understand the importance of mastering the academy. With sad smiles, they wave us off, and so our journey begins.

Danger leers ahead, yet somehow I can't help but feel a spark of excitement at the thought of travelling as a fellowship once again. Yes, the anxiety is still intense, but what would life be without thrill?

I look back to Aragorn who sends a reassuring smile. He has indeed aged, however not in a bad sense. His figure has seemed to broaden, perhaps due to his silver plated armour, and a dark cape cascades down his back. His hair has grown rather long, falling down to his biceps. Silver streaks are evident in his decently lengthened beard, though he does not appear to have withered in the slightest. In fact, he seems to have gained in strength, especially after a  rest. His most noticeable feature is the crown which rests upon his dark head. Even though this last week has been rather tough, the man has somehow managed to keep hold of the coronet.

Legolas looks exactly the same, as expected.

I return the smile, before facing the road ahead, a soft sigh escaping from my lips.

Sharon, we are coming to kick your ass, again.

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Third Person ➳

A small fire crackles, releasing embers into the night as the fellowship has come to rest after two days of travelling. They have set up camp within a small forest, regaining energy for the fight which Minas Tirith is sure to bring. Eretria sits by the flames, sharpening her daggers. Éomer rests to her side, seemingly deep in thought. Legolas observes the surrounding woods with a keen eye, and Aragorn lowly hums an elvish tune.

"We worked hard to destroy the ring of evil, how is Sauron not dead?" Éomer speaks out, lifting his gaze as his eyes reflect the dancing flames.

"Casting the ring into Mount Doom destroyed the physical body of the Dark Lord, yes, though his spiritual form still remained." Aragorn explains. "By himself, there would be no possible way to gain power after weakened to a lingering spirit. There is another who has sided with him, one wielding sorcery. This would explain the spell and his impossible resurrection. An evil alliance has formed."

Éomer nods, a shadow of deep thought still cast over his face.

"I know a possible way to defeat the Dark Lord." Legolas proclaims, stepping towards the fire as he breaks the silence of ponder. All eyes look to him inquisitively.

"There is a stone rumoured to have been mined by the dwarves many years in the past, a fourth Silmaril. It was the first of Fëanor's creations, though he deemed the jewel useless and buried it deep within the earth, only to be mined by the dwarves of Erebor. It is rumoured that this stone can gift immense power to its bearer. The Silmarils assisted in bringing Morgoth to sleep, and killing Lúthien. This fourth stone may hold the power to bring Sauron to defeat once and for all."

Silence falls upon the camp, as each person takes in the words of Legolas with amazement and wonder.

"Though, none in Mirkwood know where this stone now lies..." Legolas trails off, before raising his gaze and looking to the fellowship, a glint of hope sparking within his eye. "That is unless other folk of the land know of its dwellings?"

There is once again a deep silence, before Eretria speaks up, tossing her dagger in her hand.

"Can't say I'd have a clue, sorry buddy." She remarks, looking to the elf with a rather bored expression. "Besides, it sounds like a bedtime story to me. In fact, I might take this one back to the kids, keep them occupied by searching the academy and looking for magic rocks."

Legolas clearly grows agitated, and proceeds to slink his bow off his shoulder. The elf then moves away from the light of the fire and disappears into the dark woods, most likely patrolling the forest once again in a search for possible enemies.

"I do remember hearing tales of an important stone when spending my days as a child in Rivendell, however I never took interest to the matter." Aragorn utters, drawing out a pipe and some tobacco gifted to him by the halflings. "We have more important tasks at hand, such as regaining Minas Tirith. Only once that has been achieved can we work on finding a way to defeat Sauron."

Éomer nods in agreement, however Eretria continues to stare at the space Legolas had previously occupied, her eyes slightly narrowed. Aragorn looks to the outlaw, and continues speaking, though this time on the topic of her academy.

"What you have both done for those children is incredibly kind-hearted. Without such a place to dwell, none would know where those children could be lingering at the very moment. You have given them a new meaning to life, Eretria."

The outlaw's face lights up as she looks to Aragorn, a genuine smile spread upon her lips, however a shade of concern can be seen within her eyes. Something is troubling her mind.

Suddenly, Legolas reemerges from the woods. His bow has been placed back over his shoulder, and two delicately engraved silver cups now occupy his hands.

"Now that we have a replenish of supplies, would you honour me by sharing the last of our collected water, Aragorn?"

The king smiles and nods, accepting the elf's offer. Legolas sends back a solid grin, before placing the two cups a top a large stump and withdrawing his flask from inside his mossy cloak. Eretria tilts her head as she inquisitively steps towards the elf.

Legolas pours the contents of his flask into both cups. Eretria steps to his side, before snapping her gaze towards the depths of the forest.

"Are you sure there is nothing out there?" She questions.

The woodland elf looks to her, before averting his attention to their surroundings, scanning the dark setting with narrowed eyes.

"I carefully inspected every corner of the woods not all that long ago. There is nothing but the music of insects and song of the owl." Legolas states. He then grabs the two cups, standing from his kneel and moving towards Aragorn. The king receives his offering and brings the silver goblet to his parted lips.

Taking a heavy swig, Aragorn places his now empty drink onto the ground beside him. Legolas smiles, downing his water in a swift gulp. Eretria rests her hand upon the hilt of her sword.

A moment of silence draws out, until suddenly, the elf begins to splutter, wheezing as he gasps for air. The silver cup falls from his hand, and Eretria is quick to bring her blade against Legolas' neck.

"I knew it." She seethes, looking to the elf with a pointed glare. "And to think you were stupid enough to fall for the old 'distract-and-switch'."

Aragorn stands with his eyes wide in surprise, unsheathing Andúril as Legolas continues to struggle for air.

"Eretria, what are you doing?" The man calls out in concern. Éomer also rises to his feet, rather startled by the sudden commotion.

"Can't you see?" Eretria growls, her blade still sharp against the elf's jugular. "This isn't Legolas."

Aragorn watches with a startled expression, and Éomer carefully approaches the outlaw's side, prepared to back his partner in crime. Legolas' breathing comes to steady, and he looks to Eretria with a wicked grin.

"Very clever, little bear." He spits out. A low, melodic voice now replaces the elf's previously smooth speech.

This catches Eretria off guard, and as she tenses, false Legolas removes his daggers and kicks the outlaw to the ground. However, this is all he manages to achieve, as both Éomer and Aragorn step forward, their blades wielded and pointed in his direction. The corrupted elf holds his attacking stance for a moment, before realising the danger of fighting two skilled men, and backs away, dashing into the woods. Éomer goes to pursue, however Aragorn holds him back, placing a stern hand upon his shoulder.

"Let him flee. We must remain together, pursuing would only lead us further off track." The King remarks, rather shaken himself. He turns to Eretria and offers a hand. With furrowed brows, she notices the gesture and accepts. Standing to her feet, the outlaw stares off into the woods, her eyes wide and skin pale as if she has just witnessed death itself.

"He's alive." She whispers, her tone almost frantic. Both men look to her inquisitively, still in a state of shock. Eretria turns to face Aragorn and Éomer, uttering a sentence which reveals a sudden revelation.

"Saruman is alive."

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I still haven't told ya'll how my NZ trip was. Here are some pics which I'm sure will explain enough teehee

And last but not least here's me being a howdy doodie partner yEehAW