Aragorn sat alone lost in his thoughts. He'd barely eaten or slept ever since Èowyn had been captured. First he had lost Arwen, and now her.

Éomer was handling it better than he was, even though they both knew he was worried sick. But Éomer had kept himself busy with scouting enemy camps for any sign of her.

Aragorn was truly grateful for Èomer's help; even though he had lost all of his family he continued to support Aragorn and help him with the other survivors, he had become a true friend.

Aragorn winced as the painful memory of Legolas dying filled his mind. Why did he have to die? It wasn't fair, that orc had intended to kill him, not Legolas. Why had it killed Legolas instead? Why did it have to be his friend?

Aragorn remembered the last thing he had said to him; how he had told him that he never wanted to see him again, that he was a monster, a murderer.

But he hadn't been, he had been his friend, Legolas had given his life for him when he hadn't deserved it.

He remembered the fear in Legolas' eyes when he realized that he was dying, how his last breath had been used to tell him to run. Aragorn had taken his bow, he kept it with him always.

It was all he had left of his friend, the friend he had for years. Aragorn remembered when he'd first met him, how long ago that seemed. He remembered the young elf who had always been there for him, never abandoned him, who had saved his life countless times.

But he was gone. It was time he accepted it. Legolas was dead. He was never coming back, neither would Arwen, Gandalf, or Pippin.

So many had been lost. After they had fled Minas Tirith they had gone deep into the mountains. They had found a way to travel north to the other lands before the orcs had overrun everything.

They hadn't been able to save many people. Theoden hadn't made it out of Rohan and they hadn't been able to rescue anyone else.

When they had been able to venture into other lands they had found them destroyed. The Shire, Rivendell, Lorien, Rohan, Mirkwood, Gondor, Dale, Erebor, everywhere there had been destruction and death.

The people had been scattered. Taken far to different lands and forced to work as slaves. Aragorn had led many of the remaining people in freeing the captives. They had rescued men, dwarves, and even a few hobbits, but there were no more elves.

They had all been slaughtered, none had been left alive. Aragorn had gone to Rivendell and had seen the aftermath of the orc's attack.

The bodies of elves had lain everywhere. Scarred and defiled and laying in their own blood. He had found Arwen and Elrond. The sight of their lifeless bodies had broken him.

They hadn't had time to bury them. Aragorn hadn't had time to search for Elrond's sons, who had been like brothers to him. Elrohir and Elladan; he missed all of them with a pain that consumed his very being.

Aragorn had learned that the same thing had befallen the other elven lands. No elf had been left alive.

Galadriel, Celeborn, Thranduil, Elrond, and Arwen. All gone.

So much death

"Aragorn! There you are."

Aragorn looked up as Gimli approached him.
"I knew I'd find you sooner or later, you have to stop hiding all the time."

Aragorn grinned slightly, he couldn't bring himself to smile.
"Forgive me, I just needed some time to myself."

Gimli nodded.
"I understand lad."

"Is there something wrong?" Aragorn asked.

"Right, Éomer has returned and has something urgent to tell you."

"What is it?" Aragorn stood to his feet and followed the dwarf.

"I don't know, all he said to find you immediately."

Aragorn didn't get his hopes up that Éomer had news about Èowyn. If it had been Éomer wouldn't have hesitated to tell Aragorn himself.

They walked through one of the many tunnels they had dug in the mountains. They had created a haven for all of the survivors, or Rebels as they were called by the enemy.

The place was busy with men, dwarves, and a few hobbits. The men and dwarves were preparing for a battle that everyone believed was coming.

But Aragorn had no idea how they could attempt fighting a battle. They didn't have the numbers or the weapons they needed.

Besides, as long as Sauron carried the One Ring he could not be defeated. As they were walking Aragorn heard small cries coming from one of the tunnels.

"Aragorn! Come quickly!"

Frodo ran out of the tunnel and was followed by Sam and Merry.
All of their eyes were wide in shock as they ran towards him.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked Gimli. "You hobbits look like you've seen a ghost."

"But we have! I mean, not an actual ghost but..." Frodo struggled to catch his breath. Aragorn knelt down in front of him and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Calm yourself Frodo. Tell me what did you see?"

"I can't explain it. Just come with us!"

Frodo and the other two hobbits took off running with Aragorn and Gimli following.

Aragorn still couldn't get over having only the three hobbits together. It had always been four of them: Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin.

But Pippin was gone, and all of the hobbits were still grieving. Merry was the worst one off. He still wandered in a daze at times, unable to cope with Pippin being gone.

The three hobbits had stuck close together. None of them ever left the other's side. They wouldn't be able to bear losing each other or any more of their friends.

They continued down deeper into the mountain. Aragorn knew where they were going, to the cells. The dwarves had suggested building some in case they ever captured servants of the enemy. The best thing about having dwarves was that they could mine and build things they needed: weapons, armor, and cells.

When they got down there Eomer was waiting for them.

"What did you find Eomer?" Aragorn asked coming to a stop in front of his friend.

"We found two men in the desert," Eomer replied grimly, "Near the southern borders of Mordor."

Aragorn widened his eyes.

"Are they alive?"

"Barely. They were nearly dead when we found them."

"Aragorn." Frodo grabbed Aragorn's attention.

"What is it Frodo?"
"The men, they look familiar."
"What do you mean?"
"Look."

Aragorn looked inside one of the cells that held one of the men. Gimli, Eomer, and the other hobbits followed his gaze.

Gimli gasped in shock.

"Durin's beard..."

They all recognized the man who lay in front of them.

Boromir.

Aragorn was speechless. How could Boromir still be alive?

"I don't believe it." Sam whispered.

"The other one, it's Faramir." Gimli stated, still in shock.

Aragorn was feeling all kinds of emotions at once. How could Boromir have survived? Why was he still alive? The one who had betrayed them, who had brought the darkness back to the world.

Why was he still alive?

"Aragorn, there's one more." Eomer said.

Aragorn wasn't paying attention, he was lost in his own thoughts. Frodo looked into the last cell and widened his eyes in shock.

"Aragorn... It's... It's..."

"It's what Frodo?"

Aragorn snapped. He immediately regretted his harsh tone, but he was having trouble with processing everything that was happening.

Frodo turned to the rest of his friends.

"It's Legolas."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

And we're back to Aragorn and the others. You'll get a better explanation of what they've been up to in a little bit