Boromir startled away from Èowyn, but when he saw me, he froze. "Eda?" he hissed.

Èowyn, wearing a full battle suit, darted to me and wrapped me in a tight hug. "It's so good to see you! How are you faring?"

I grinned and hug her back. "Quite well, I'm a queen now, so that's interesting."

She pulled back and appraised me with raised eyebrows. "Oh...forgive me Your Majesty."

I shook my head. "None of that nonsense from you please, unless you're secretly a Dwarf or an Elf."

Her eyes twinkled. "So what's it like, being a queen?"

Boromir cleared his throat. "Excuse me ladies—Eda, what are you doing here?"

Putting my hands on my hips, I said, "I'm here to talk to you, actually. What the Mordor is going on here?"

He shifted uncomfortably. "The Fellowship isn't popular right now, Eda...you may not even be safe here."

I straightened to my full, albeit limited height. "Much has changed since last we met, Boromir. I am not only Queen of Erebor, but allied with the Woodland Realm. If any person so much as raised a finger against me, I assure you neither kingdom would view that violation with benevolence."

Faramir's eyes widened. "Boromir...she brought an army. Elves and Dwarves, lots of them."

Boromir's throat twitched. "Point taken. What is it that you want?"

I smiled and motioned down the hall. "I want you to tell your father that things have changed. The allies of Isildur's heir have arrived, and we don't have time to squabble over his legitimacy. Denethor will bestow the rulership onto Aragorn, or Denethor will be crushed."

Boromir and Faramir stared at me, openmouthed.

I made a shooing motion. "That would mean now. Run along."

Boromir sighed and spun to walk down the wide hallway.

Deciding it would probably be best not to show myself to Denethor just yet, I said, "I will return to my friends now. You'll hear from us shortly." I turned and walked away, heading back down the long, winding path.

The late afternoon sun threw strange shadows across the street, and I startled a couple of times for no reason. Therefore, when Gandalf stepped from behind a corner in front of me, I barely choked back a scream.

"Amariel." He put his arms around me in a hug, though I was about half his height. Pulling back, he appraised me with his wizened eyes. "It's good to see you."

As my heart remembered to beat, I smiled. "You as well, Gandalf."

He patted my shoulder. "Come. There are many who wish to see you."

I followed him down a narrow back street. "Did Legolas find you?"

Gandalf chuckled. "I found him, much as I found you. He knows the way, and is bringing King Thranduil in to parley with us."

We walked to a large storehouse and went through a small wooden door. Inside was dark, and smelled of dust and mold. Stacked crates formed a maze, which Gandalf deftly led me through to the center. Aragorn sat on a crate, chewing his unlit pipe. Gimli paced back and forth, axe in hand. The Hobbit rascals huddled close to each other, whispering.

When they noticed us, Gimli braced his feet and raised his axe. Aragorn tensed and reached for his sword. The Hobbits shrank back. And then they recognized me.

"Eda!" Gimli bellowed, spreading his arms wide. "Ye Most Gracious Highness! Good to see yeh!"

"Oh shush," I chided with a giggle.

The Hobbits attacked me with a duo bear hug, excitedly chattering faster than I could keep up with, and Gandalf chuckled at their shenanigans.

Aragorn's face stretched into a warm smile.

I'd never had much of a family, only a grandmother. But I realized...the Fellowship was my family. A bunch of stupidly brave misfits willing to keep me around, even happy when I returned.

This brought tears to my eyes, and I felt awfully silly when I had to wipe them away.

Gimli clomped closer, a frown furrowing his brow. "Yer Majesty? Are these wee rascals bothering yeh?"

"No, no." I wiped my eyes and gave an uncomfortable laugh. "Just getting emotional."

"Why is my wife getting emotional?" Legolas walked up beside me and put his arm around my waist.

Gandalf raised his eyebrows, acting surprised—I was positive he wasn't.

Gimli blinked. "Yeh...yeh married the Pointy-Ears?"

I looped my arms around Legolas's waist. "I did. And we're very happy."

The rascals backed away, blushing tomato-red from the roots of their hair all the way down their throats. Aragorn walked to us and clasped our shoulders, wearing a broad smile. "I wish you both the best. You deserve to be happy."

"So..." Gimli piped up, also blushing, but wearing a rather suggestive grin. "Are yeh working on any gold nuggets?"

My face scrunched up with confusion. "What?"

"He wants to know if you're pregnant yet," Legolas supplied in a bland tone. "To answer your question Gimli, it's none of your business, but at our current rate, you'll have a prince or princess to swoon over before the year is out."

Gimli's eyes began to glaze as he processed the multifaceted implications of Legolas's statement.

"Gimli," I began gently, "you should know, some things changed while I was gone. I was crowned Queen Under the Mountain, and we're now allied with Mirkwood."

"It's the Woodland Realm," came Thranduil's haughty mutter as he appeared from behind some crates, wearing his elegant travel robes and cape. "Get it right, for Eru's sake." His eyes flicked over our ragtag Fellowship and rested on Gandalf. "Mithrandir," he greeted coldly.

"King Thranduil," Gandalf replied evenly.

The rascals stared, their expressions painted with awe and terror.

Gimli looked between me, Legolas, and Thranduil. He blinked. Then fell backwards, ramrod-straight. His body hit the ground with a deafening crunch. The stone ground had cracked beneath his weight.

Legolas arched an eyebrow. "Oh dear. Is he dead?"

"Stand back." Thranduil swept through and knelt, barely in reach of Gimli. Pointing his index finger, he poked Gimli's cheek above his beard. Then he grimaced and wiped his finger on his robes. "No, he's not dead. Dramatic, or unconscious. Possibly both." He stood, and his gaze fell to Aragorn. "Are you the Ranger?"

Aragorn dipped his head respectfully. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Heir to the throne of Gondor."

Thranduil studied him for a long moment. "Legolas has great faith in you. I've chosen to trust his judgment. My armies will fight for you."

Aragorn lifted his chin, squaring his shoulders. "Thank you, my lord. Should the Woodland Realm ever suffer need, Gondor will come to your aid." The rugged, weatherworn Ranger clasped forearms with the flawless, immortal ElvenKing, and they exchanged a grim smile.

Thranduil's smile morphed to a dark smirk. "Here's to hoping there will still be a Gondor when next my kingdom requires aid."

The outside door creaked open and shut, and we all silenced. We listened to footsteps wander around the maze a bit, until Èomer appeared. "There you are." His dark eyes flicked around the makeshift meeting room. "Interesting crowd."

"Indeed," Thranduil replied, withdrawing from Aragorn.

Gandalf leaned against a stack of crates. "I've called you all together to discuss what action to take. Denethor will not willingly surrender the rulership of Gondor, and we haven't the time for tact. We've quelled one attack from Mordor, and waiting to quell another would be counter-productive."

Thranduil crossed his arms. "What is your purpose?"

Aragorn piped up. "Before all else, we must unite Gondor. Then we do what we can to help Frodo destroy the Ring."

A chill ran down my spine. I swallowed hard.

Èomer listened with a slightly confused expression, but didn't interrupt.

Thranduil did. "And where is this 'Frodo'?"

"In Mordor!" Pippin chirped. When Thranduil turned his icy eyes on him, he shrank away.

"That is what we're hoping," Aragorn said. "Faramir was kind enough to tell us that Frodo, Samwise, and the creature Gollum passed through Osgiliath not long ago. So, providing they are well, they should be in Mordor by now."

Thranduil rubbed his chin. "You're right, waiting isn't enough. We ought to make a preemptive strike on Mordor, and back it with a full invasion."

"That's..." Èomer flailed for words. "That's suicide."

Legolas shook his head. "No. This is war. And my Adar is right—if we draw Mordor's attention to the Black Gates, Frodo might be able to slip behind their defenses and destroy the Ring."

My stomach clenched.

Aragorn looked to Gandalf. "How many able-bodied men does Gondor have?"

Gandalf shook his head. "A few hundred, not many. The orcs have been wearing down their defenses for years, and this last attack cost us dearly."

"What about women?" I stepped forward. "Widows, sisters...I'll bet there are a few that would do anything for a chance to avenge their loved ones."

Aragorn hesitated, then nodded. "All right. Èomer, would you have Èowyn recruit what women are willing for the attack on Mordor?"

Èomer nodded, not looking happy, but not arguing. "I'll ask her as soon as we're done here."

Aragorn nodded also. "How many of your warriors can fight, Èomer?"

He sighed and rubbed his face. "We lost two thousand riders today, and many more are wounded. I fear the Rohirrim are but a shadow of their former strength."

I glanced at Legolas. "I estimate my Dwarvish army to be about fifteen hundred."

"Och, then we've nothing to worry about," Gimli said groggily from his spot on the ground.

We ignored him.

"I brought two thousand trained Elvish warriors," Thranduil added, scowling. "Yet even if we each emptied our homelands of every person able to carry a weapon, our numbers pale in comparison to Mordor's. Orcs are like rats, they multiply exponentially with every turn of the season." He scrubbed his eyes roughly.

"What do we need, Adar?" Legolas asked quietly. "What would turn the tide of battle against such numbers?"

We all held our breath while Thranduil, the most battle-savvy in the room and possibly in Middle Earth, considered. "Long-distance weapons," he said finally. "Not arrows—we need something that will cause a great deal of damage...catapults if we can position them."

Aragorn straightened, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Helm's Deep..."

Legolas's eyebrows shot up. "You aren't thinking—?"

"Yeah..." Aragorn began to pace, absently stroking his scraggly beard.

Legolas drifted closer to him, pushing a hand through his hair. "But...it would never work..."

Aragorn spun to face him, wearing a crazed smile. "Why not?"

"Excuse me?" Thranduil waved a hand. "What in Morgoth's detestable name are you two going on about?"

They spun to face him and said together, "Explosives!"

Gandalf's eyebrows slid lower in consideration. The rest of us stared at the two like they'd lost their headnoodles.

Pippin was the first to speak. "Well I think it's a good idea."

Merry glared at him. "Of course you do. You thought holding a skeleton's hand was a good idea, once upon a time."

It's time I speak some sense into these boys' lives. "What I would like to know is, where are you going to get these explosives? And what the Mordor are you going to do with them?"

Legolas rounded on Aragorn. "And who are we going to send, hmm? An orc might blow himself up, but that's not something to ask your own army to do."

Aragorn facepalmed. "No, no, no. Of course Gondor has explosives, possibly in this very room—the entire city is made of stone. It would take decades to build a city of stone without explosives."

Thranduil made an aha face. "A city of this scale would take centuries."

Aragorn nodded. "And I wouldn't send my army in to blow themselves up. But there are catapults sitting on our very doorstep, and there must be a way to make the explosives detonate on impact—or we can find some experienced miners to figure the length of the fuses."

Thranduil's expression twisted into dark pleasure. "How far is the catapults' range? It wouldn't be wise to damage the outer wall. In fact, if they all sat nicely and waited to be blown up, we would all be better off for it."

Legolas chuckled uncomfortably. "That won't happen Ada."

Thranduil's smile widened, showing an awful lot of teeth. "Good."

***Author's Note***

I KNOW, I KNOW...it's late. It was NOT MY FAULT though, I swear...I had internet problems. I'm still planning on updating again next Monday.

So tell me whatcha think? This was a weird, fun chapter to write...I rather like having Thranduil around!

Anyway, I'll see you next Monday!