A darkness settled over the land. Out of the South came a blackness like a cloud, but not a cloud. It was much more alive, free thinking. It was streaked with blue whisps that tangled each other and hungrily lapped at the plants and undergrowth. Every thing it touched, died and evaporated like dust being blown away in a strong wind. The only thing left was coal black rock.

A child, not much older than five years, stood there. Her back was to Miril. She had dark brown skin and black hair. She raised a hand to the blackness and the blue whisps raced towards her open hand. They engulfed her, consuming her. But instead of wasting away, her eyes changed to a cobalt blue like lapis lazuli and black like night. She turned to face Miril and raised her hand again.

Miril realized she was holding the Silmaril. As blue needles of power raced towards her, she raised the Silmaril to block the darkness. It caused the blue energy to shatter like glass and rain down to the ground.

But then, a great monster came up behind the child. A spider, the size of a troll, stalked forward. It lusted for the gem. It wanted it. The girl pointed to the half-elf. The spider moved towards her at tremendous speed. Miril screamed in agony as it bit her hand off, consuming Silmaril and all.

"Shhhh," Elrohir soothed, holding her hand and smoothing his thumb over it.

Miril shot up and panted, glancing around in fear and distress. Her eyes fell on the Twins, both of whom were wide awake now. Tears were in her eyes. She glanced down at her hands. Both were still there. There was no Silmaril. There was no spider. There was no little girl. She was safe. She was with Elladan and Elrohir.

"What was wrong, mellon-nin?" Elladan asked her.

She opened her mouth to speak but no words came. Instead she closed her eyes and shook her head.

Elrohir sighed. "A nightmare?"

Miril affirmed their suspicions with a nod.

"What plagued your dreams tonight?" Elladan prompted her.

"The Silmaril was there again. For that is what the gem is," she explained this quickly upon seeing their reaction. "But this time... this time there was only death."

The Twins looked at one another, and then glanced up as the tent flap was opened and Aragorn poked his head in.

"I heard screaming," he said concernedly. "Is everyone alright?"

Miril nodded, sniffling. "I am. I am sorry to have woken you."

Aragorn shook his head. "Nonsense. Do not be sorry."

She put her head on Elrohir's chest and closed her eyes. She breathed in his scent and relaxed a little bit. Her leg hurt and her mind was racing, but having her beloved with her was at least a small comfort amidst the chaos and horror of war.

Elladan left the tent with Aragorn to explain what had happened. Miril allowed herself to drift off to sleep again, her head on Elrohir's chest. The male half-elf smiled a little and ran a hand through her hair to comfort her before he too drifted off to sleep.

Elladan could only smile when he came back and found them asleep. He shook his head and laid down next to his brother. There were a few hours still until dawn and he intended to make the most of them.

When they got up, Miril was nowhere to be found. Evidently she had already gotten up. Indeed, she was found wandering beneath the two great burial mounds, a forlorn look on her face as she knelt below one and closed her eyes. She bowed her head in silence. It was Halbarad who found her there.

"Did you lose a friend?" he asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged. "Three young men, boys almost, were fighting at my side. All perished. I should've saved them."

"That is the cost of war. It is not pretty, but sooner or later all men must die. It is inevitable," Halbarad reminded her of the universal truth for Men.

She sighed. "So you have taught me, and so I have seen for myself. But it makes it no easier. What if I were to lose you?"

"Someday you will," Halbarad nodded. "And you will go on. You will fulfill whatever destiny has been appointed for you, and you will keep me alive in your heart."

Miril nodded and closed her eyes before reopening them and standing up. She accepted her father's embrace before they walked back to the main camp together. Aragorn, Theoden, Éomer, Legolas, Gimli, and the Sons of Elrond were about to take counsel together before the ride.

"How long will it take to reach Dunharrow," Aragorn asked the King as they stood by the horses, ready to get moving.

Éomer spoke, "Three days, and the muster shall be held on the fourth. No sooner can we make it, if the full strength of Rohan is to be amassed."

"Three days," Aragorn muttered. "Three days and it will only begin. Though I see now it can go no faster."

The company looked and watched with anticipation as Aragorn made up his mind about something. At last he spoke again.

"Very well." He sighed. "I shall take the Paths of the Dead."

"Why do you speak of such," Theoden cried. "The Paths are cursed. The dead keep it!"

"I had hoped we would fight again together," Éomer sighed, "but if you take that path, I fear this is farewell."

"We will meet again in battle, Éomer! Do not think otherwise. Nonetheless this is the path I must take." Aragorn sighed. "I hope Legolas and Gimli will hunt with me and my kin awhile still."

They nodded quickly.

"Then we must be off," Theoden sighed. "Farewell, Aragorn son of Arathorn. May the gods watch over your travels."

"Farewell." Aragorn knelt then in front of Merry. "And farewell to you, my friend. We must part again, though we leave you in better company this time around."

"Good bye," Merry frowned. "And good luck."

The Rohirrim and the hobbit mounted their horses and set off towards Dunharrow by way of the mountain paths. Aragorn and the Grey Company would take swifter paths, and not stop at Edoras on their way to Dunharrow, and ultimately, the Paths of the Dead.

"Well my friends," Aragorn sighed. "Let us eat and then be off."

While they ate, Aragorn revealed to them that he had used the Orthanc stone. He had looked in the Palantir and revealed himself to Sauron, striking fear into the enemy's black heart. He hoped this would aid their efforts.

Aragorn at last rose from his seat at the table. "We ride in twenty."