Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings.

I am dying.

I feel it in the deepest reaches of my soul. Slowly, it is taking me. But I do not want to go. Not now. But this is something I have no choice in; for who can choose when their time has come?

I try to forget this as I walk within my garden, my sanctuary, my one true escape from the city which has now become my cage.

I look upon the scene that goes around me. As I walk around, I occasionally see servants are tending to the garden, nurturing the flowers, bushes, and small trees so that one day they will be big and strong. Several beautifully colored flowers are in bloom and give off a lovely scent. I can hear the singing of various birds that have made this their sanctuary, as I have, and I hear the singing of the water in the various fountains. The water sings a lovely song, but it is nothing compared to the one sung by the sea of my beloved Dol Amroth.

I curse, yet rejoice the day I left my home. For the day I left is the day I got married to my husband, Denethor. Ah, Denethor. He knows I am dying. He knows how the city is collapsing in on me. He sees me die a little every day, and yet he does nothing. But, I cannot curse him, I cannot hate him, and I cannot blame him, for he is my husband and I love him.

My world is a twisted one. I must love things I should hate and I hate things I should love. I love my husband, yet I should hate him for trapping me in this prison. I love my sons, Faramir and Boromir, yet I should hate them, for they are shackles that furthermore bind me to this prison of a city that I have come to hate, for I cannot run away without abandoning them and I cannot take them with me, for that is not allowed. I also hate myself for thinking such bitter thoughts about those that I love.

I sigh and try to put more pleasant thoughts in my head. I sit down on a marble bench and look at some of the flowers. One particular one draws my eye.

It is the Sea Lily, the flower of Dol Amroth, the fairest flower of them all. It was once beautiful, with it's petals that were soft as silk and with the various shades and colors of the sea. Large fields of them grew near Dol Amroth. Denethor had some uprooted and added to the gardens here at Minas Tirith so that I would have something of home with me. It was kind of him, really, it was. But it does not stop the pain I feel inside. The pain of loss, the pain of isolation, the pain of homesickness.

"You and I are not so different, little flower." I say to it. "Taken from our homes, our loved ones, and put in an area where we cannot thrive and flourish… and now we are both dying."

It is true, the flower does die. The gardeners tend to it, fret over it, and give it special care, but no matter how much care they give it, it still dies. Its petals, once so smooth and full of color are starting to blacken and lose their vibrant color. Some of them fall off and are now shriveled up and black on the ground. Slowly, the poor flower droops. It will not be long before it dies.

I remember the day that little flower was planted here. I remember the day it was put in a place where it would inevitably die. I remember that day, for that was the day that I came to this wretched city…

Denethor sat down with me in the garden. "So what do you think of the city, love?" He asked me, taking my hand, smiling at me fondly.

I try to return the smile. Already I do not like Minas Tirith. The people are so strange; so cold and unfriendly. Everything is so stony, so cold, so silent. There are no cries of the gulls over the docks or the rhythm of the waves pounding the shore and sighing as they return to their home. It is a cage that closes in around me until I feel claustrophobia and the urge to scream. But I cannot tell him that. That would upset him. "It's very nice." I say.

"And the gardens? Do you like the gardens?" He asked almost anxiously.

I smile a real smile. "The gardens are lovely." I say in a soft voice.

"I have a present for you." He says.

"Oh, really? What is it?"

"Ta-da!" Denethor said with a smile as he pulled out a flower pot containing the Sea Lily.

"Oh!" I say with genuine surprise. "Is that what I think it is?"

He nodded, his smile widening. "It's a Sea Lily of Dol Amroth. Do you like it?" There was a begging in his eyes and I knew the answer he wanted me to say.

"Oh, yes! It's splendid." I say with a smile.

"It will be planted in this garden just for you, love."

I squeeze his hand. "Thank you. That's very sweet."

He smiled. "I love you." He gently pulled me into a hug and kissed me on the top of my head. I yield, taking some comfort in his arms and in his love.

I sigh and tear my gaze away from the dying flower, for it did not bring the happy thoughts I crave, the happy thoughts that Denethor wished for it to bring to me.

I survey the peaceful scene that occurs before me. Gardeners tenderly care for some plants. Several birds fly around, singing their lovely songs. The water fountains spew large quantities of water into the air. As I watch this, I feel relaxed and at peace.

It is amazing how the world can have such wonderful and peaceful places and yet at the time the same world can have such horrible things taking place. Involuntarily, my eyes jerk towards the growing shadow in the East. A shudder goes up my spine.

Every day, I find myself looking upon the East. Mount Doom spews its fiery ash and the Black Tower has been rebuilt. As I look out, I can always feel the Eye, a ghastly thing wreathed in bright red flame, looking directly at me, as if it were anticipating my demise. It frightens me.

The Shadow of the East always seems to fill my thoughts, even when I dream. Every night, I have the same dream about Mordor, great amounts of orcs assembling at the Black Gates and the Eye looking down at them. And then, the laugh. That horrible laugh. Sauron laughs in joy and he knows that soon, he will have victory. I then see horrible images of Minas Tirith covered in flames; I see Denethor, old and decrepit, burning alive and watch in horror as his flesh turns to ash until nothing of him remains; I see my sons, fully grown, fighting the menace in the East and I see both of them falling to their foes, full of pain, full of sorrow. And then, I wake up, drenched in sweat and screaming like some frightened child. Denethor tries to comfort me, but he cannot. After that, I do not sleep.

"Momma!" I snap out of my reverie and look around.

"Momma!" Faramir, my son, runs over to me and leaps into a hug. I embrace him and run my fingers through his light copper hair.

"Are you sad, again?" He asks me, moving to take the other seat on the bench, leaning against me. He looks up at me with his big, gray eyes.

I smile at him. "Please don't worry yourself about it." I say. He is far too young to be loaded with the troubles of my mind. Trying to change the topic I ask him, "So what have you been doing?"

"Looking for you." Faramir replied, honestly.

"You know you can always find me in here."

"Yeah, I know."

"So, where's your brother?"

"He's coming."

Just then, Boromir, my eldest son, strolled up to where we were sitting. "Hi, Mother." He said.

"Hello, Boromir." I move over on the bench to make room for him. "Would you like to take a seat?"

He smiled and nodded. The three of us sat in silence for a while, observing the garden and its tranquility.

Then, Faramir tugged on my dress sleeve. "Momma," he said, "the flower's still dying." He pointed to the wilting Sea Lily.

I smile sadly. "Yes… so it is."

"Why is it dying, Momma? Why does it have to die?"

"Death is a natural part of life, Faramir." I try to explain to him in a gentle voice. "We all have to go through it."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure."

Boromir's mouth formed a grim line. Although nobody has told him, I think he knows that I am dying. He's too smart to not know. "It's not fair." He murmured.

"What's not fair?" I ask, looking at him.

"That things have to die."

"No, it's not fair." I agree. I then try to change the subject to something less morbid. "So, how are your lessons coming along, Boromir?" I ask.

He shrugs. "They're okay."

"What are you learning?"

"Grammar, arithmetic, you know, all that stuff."

"That's good." I feel the overwhelming urge to hug both of my sons, so I do. "I love both of you so much." I murmur.

They both return the hug. As this happens, Denethor comes up to us. He looks worried and distraught. "Boys," he says, "Your mother's very tired. You should go now."

"Yes, Father." They both say and get up out of my embrace, walking out of the garden.

"Really, Denethor," I tell him, "It's fine. I was just watching the garden with them."

"Finduilas, I don't want you to over-exert yourself! You and I both know about your condition!" He yells.

"Denethor, spending time with my children does not over-exert me, and it certainly won't kill me!" I snap at him, slightly frustrated.

"Please don't fight me on this! I'm doing this for your own good!"

"For my own good! For my own good!" I explode. "I'll tell you what you can do for my own good! Take me home!"

He looks shocked, as if I had slapped him in the face. "But… but I thought you liked it here."

"I… oh…" I groan. The garden spins all around me. I feel tired… oh so tired…

The last thing I hear is Denethor's cry of "Finduilas!" and seeing my boys sprint out from their hiding places they had taken to overhear our conversation. Then, I look at the Sea Lily. It is dead. Then, blackness takes me.

Nari: So, what did you think? I'd like your opinions, so please review!