Lord of The Rings continuation fanfic

She felt her hand shaking as she approached the large wooden door of the hall. Walking up the stone steps, she grasped the sword hilt, and pushing open the door stepped inside.

Aragorn looked up absentmindedly as the door was opened. His fingers drummed against the marble throne. A hooded figure approached him. He assumed it was a man wearing the black cloak, but he could not tell since the persons face was hidden.

"My lord, Aragorn," said the man, bowing low. The king did not pick up the sarcasm in the mans voice. He gave a small nod, thus allowing the man to step forward.

"Lord Aragorn, I thank you for seeing me today, and I hope I have not inconvenienced you." The stranger went on with speech, listing all the kings wonderful qualities, and his hope for the kings reign to be long and prosperous, and the same hope for the kings son. It was the usual speech given by people who came to ask for favors, which Aragorn usually granted as long as the people had good reason for asking.

"Sir, I thank you for your kind words. Is there anything I may grant you?" asked the king, once the man had finished talking.

Suddenly the man's voice changed, he laughed slightly and said "Only answers, great king. Answers to questions that have to do with our pasts."

Aragorn did not like the man's tone, something in the voice had made him uneasy. "Our pasts? I do not recall ever meeting you before sir, but perhaps that is because I cannot see your face under your hood. If you removed it, I might remember you." The kings own voice had become steely.

"I do not think you would recognize me, even without my hood, my liege. You only knew me for a few days at the most I believe."

Aragorn, despite feeling extremely uncomfortable, was intrigued. "Who are you?" He was surprised when his voice came out a whisper.

And suddenly Aragorn found himself staring at a sword, aimed at his throat.

"Guess who I am," the man laughed softly…lethally. "Think hard, and tell me who you think I am, and maybe I won't want to kill you anymore…as you tried to kill me."

Aragorn's eyes flicked around the room quickly. For some reason none of his guards or soldiers were present. The man apparently saw where he was looking. "There's no one around to protect your precious neck king. It's just you and me."

"What is it you want of me?"

"I already told you. I want answers."

"Well ask and I'll tell you what I can," replied Aragorn calmly. He had handled worse situations.

"How many children do you have?"

Aragorn was surprised by the man's question. Everyone in the land knew he had only one child, his son. "Why, one child of course. My son is my only child."

"Now that's funny, I thought you had two children."

Aragorn was still confused. "I only have one child. A son, with my wife, Arwen." He said this slowly, as though talking to a very young child.

"Only a son? To my knowledge you had a daughter some years ago, but Arwen wasn't your wife back then, was she?" The stranger's voice had cracked mid sentence.

Aragorn felt his throat catch. How did he… "How do you…?"

"How do I know?" asked the man with a laugh. "Oh, I know many things. But since you have just basically confessed to having a daughter with Arwen some years before she was your wife, would you perhaps tell me what happened to your daughter? And why did you deny that you had more than one child?"

The king was stuck. He could not lie anymore. "We weren't married, and as much as we loved eachother, we never thought we would be allowed to marry. If anyone had found out we had a child…"

"So you hid the fact that you had a daughter to protect your names?"

"Yes…"

"Where is the girl now?"

"Dead."

"How do you know?"

"She was a weak sickly child. She died within a few days. The shock of her death almost killed Arwen though. She could barely eat or sleep for months, and no one save I knew why."

"Really?"

Aragorn was about to respond "Yes," when the man moved the sword point closer to the king's throat and growled "You know, I highly doubt that. Now, why don't you tell me what really happened to her? What did you do with her?"

Aragorn's eyes widened in shock. "You know the truth then?" he asked?

"What? That you left your daughter in the wild, to die, when she was three days old. That you lied to Arwen and told her the child was dead, so that neither of you would get in trouble. No, I had no idea whatsoever."

"How do you know all this?"

"Never mind that, it's not important."

"Who are you?" the king asked with a growl. If this man told the queen of what he had done, he could not imagine what it might do to her. She might die of grief, knowing that her child might have lived.

"Again, it's not important who I am. What's more important is what you did. You actually attempted to murder your own daughter. Didn't you feel any remorse, or do you only have love for your son you sick bastard? What would your people think of what you did?"

"What does it matter now, she's dead. Why bring up a girl dead so long ago. She's not alive, and we can't bring her back by talking about her."

"You think she's dead? She's not, and she knows everything about you and what you did to her. She was found by dwarves, who sheltered her for 10 years, until they turned her over to some wood elves. They recognized her as one of them, and raised her never knowing who she really was. But she knew, because the dwarves told her who she was and what her name was, for they saw you that day when you left her to die."

Aragorn couldn't breathe. She was alive! He still felt just as guilty as he had felt since that day he had left his daughter on that mountain. But now at least he knew he hadn't murdered his daughter, the flesh of his flesh. Alive!

"You look surprised. Do you wish you had just finished it, rather than just left it to the wild animals of the mountain? You do, don't you? I can see it in your eyes."

The sword point was shaking, the man's hand was unsteady.

And then suddenly the sword was on the ground.

Legolas was standing behind the man, a bloody knife in his hand. He had seen the man pointing his sword at the king. Sneaking up behind the cloaked stranger, he had stabbed the man.

The cloaked man was lying on the ground in front of Aragorn, clutching his side. His hood had fallen off.

Except he was a woman. And there was something incredibly familiar about her face.

"Who are you?" asked Aragorn, shocked, kneeling down next to the woman.

She looked up, grimacing, and hissed into his ear, "Why, have you missed me father?"

Lirah lost conciousness almost immediately.

"Do you know what you've done?" Aragorn shouted. He picked up the bleeding girl. He could barely keep himself from reaching over to strangle Legolas.

"She had a sword at your throat, what else would you expect me to do?"

"Well, here, take her," he breathed, putting her in Legolas's arms. "Have her seen by a doctor in one of the downstairs rooms. Make sure he tells no one she is here. And most importantly make sure that no matter what she does not speak to my wife."

Legolas asked calmly, "Who is she?"

"Someone I thought was dead."

He knew Aragorn wasn't going to elaborate; carrying the bleeding girl, he left the room.

Lirah's eyes opened. She was staring at a stone ceiling. Looking around she saw she was in a small room, with no window. There was a table and chair in one corner, a nightstand by her bed, and the white tree of Gondor was painted on the wall next to the bed she was in. She tried to sit up.

The second she had moved, a searing pain shot through her side. She put her hand on the spot where the pain had come from, and looked down. There was dried blood on her dress, where she had been stabbed.

"So, you're awake?" Someone was standing in the doorway.

"What happened to me?"

She had no problem remembering now what she had been discussing with her father, but how had she been stabbed?

The person in the doorway stepped into the light of the room.

"Faramir!"

"Hello Lirah. Although we aren't' meeting under the most ideal circumstances, it is good to see you again," he laughed.

"How have you been?"

"Well, I've just been married."

"Oh, really? That's splendid!"

"Yes, we're very happy. I'd ask you how you're doing, but your grimace every time you move kind of gives it away."

"Yes, well, sometimes I'm almost human in my anger, and I let it control me. It must be because I am half."

"It was a very serious wound. You almost died."

"Oh, that would've made things easier for him. Who did it to me?"

"Don't say that, he must love you, you are his daughter after all," admonished Faramir, with a disapproving tone.

"Oh, you don't actually believe that do you? You know what he did. No one does that if they love their child. Now tell me, who did this to me?"

"The elf, Legolas."

"I should have guessed. That damn monkey of his is always somewhere nearby him. An elf following a human around? It's disgraceful!"

"Watch what you say!" growled Faramir lowly.

"Why?" asked Lirah in a nonchalant tone.

"First of all the queen is an elf and second Legolas is the king's best friend and favored one." His tone was warning, and his voice a whisper.

"I don't care, I'll say whatever I want; no one can hear me."

"That's what you think, there's always someone listening."

Lirah tried to move, and the pain in her side made her take a sharp breath, which Faramir heard.

"I'll go, you need to rest. Take care not to move too much or to quickly. That wound must heal; you don't want to reopen it. Try and go back to sleep now."

Lirah grudgingly agreed, and lied her head back down. She watched Faramir leave, and right as he was about to step out the door, called after him. "I'm sorry about Borimir."

He stopped. And without turning back around to face her, nodded. Then he continued out, and shut the door behind him.

The creaking of the wooden door opening woke Lirah from her sleep. Looking around she saw a tall, thin, blonde man approaching her bed. He stopped when he saw that she was awake. The elf!

"What is it you want?" she asked, trying to keep the anger from her voice.

"I came to see how you were doing. And to inquire as to if there was anything you required." His voice was, calm, steady. It reminded Lirah of music. "The king has commanded that you are to have everything that you ask."

"I want to see the queen." Lirah had always been straightforward. Her voice was just as steady as Legolas's, just higher.

"Except that."

"Why not?" she asked, her voice get lower.

"The king commanded that you will not see or speak to the queen, no matter what. Is there anything else?"

"Yes."

"Well what is it you require?"

"For you to get out."

Legolas's face had remained completely blank the whole time he was in the room. He raised an eyebrow now, and said "As you wish." Then he turned and left.

"Monkey." Lirah said, once he had gone.

A week later, Lirah was able to get out of her bed. The pain was still pretty much horrendous, but she had a high tolerance for pain, and ignored it.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called. She was sitting at the desk reading a book.

"Lirah, it's me, Faramir. I've brought Eowyn, like you asked."

Lirah turned around quickly. Pain shot through her side. "Sorry!" she gasped. "I keep forgetting to be careful."

She got up slowly, and still holding her side, turned around to face the couple.

A beautiful young blonde woman stood next to Faramir. "Hello," breathed Lirah softly.

"Good morning," returned Eowyn.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you. Faramir has told me of how wonderful you are. I'm glad for his happiness. You sounded so wonderful; I should like us to be friends."

Eowyn smiled. "I should like that also. Faramir has told me…well, everything. I admire your strength."

"Yes well, I wish I didn't need it."

Eowyn was about to say something comforting, when a little boy ran by the doorway. He was laughing.

"Was that…?" Lirah asked.

"Yes," responded both Faramir and his wife, simultaneously.

The laughing had stopped, and the running was replaced by a quick walk.

A little face appeared in the doorway.

"Tristo, you shouldn't be in here!" scolded Eowyn, as Faramir attempted to shoo the little boy out.

But, the little boy's eyes had found Lirah's face.

"Who are you?" he asked, curiously.

"My name is Lirah. Who are you?" she asked, although she already knew.

"I'm Tristo. I'm a big boy. You look like Mama."

"Yes, she does look like your mama, doesn't she? They have the same kind of ears," said Faramir.

Tristo's brow furrowed, as he concentrated on Lirah's face. "No. Her face looks like Mama's too."

"That's funny, Tristo," Lirah said, she saw the warning on Faramir's face.

"Mama sometimes says the name Lirah in her sleep."

"Well, isn't that funny. Tristo, Lirah needs her sleep. You must be careful and keep from coming in here so that Lirah will not wake up." Faramir's stern voice did not scare the child though.

"Why?"

"Because she is sick, child," answered Eowyn. Lirah could tell from the tender expression with which she looked at Tristo, Eowyn wanted a child.

"Are you very sick?" asked the boy.

"No, not very," laughed Lirah (although it made her side hurt all the more to laugh). "I will be better soon."

"Okay." Tristo seemed to lose interest then, and skipped out the door.

"You really should be in bed though," said Eowyn.

"I'm going crazy lying in that bed, and sitting in this room. I need to get out of here."

Faramir's expression hardened. "Eowyn is right, you should be asleep. You won't get better if you don't rest, and then it'll be longer before you'll be able to get out of here."

"Fine!" Lirah sighed, and she slowly made her way to the bed. Eowyn and Faramir said goodbye, promising to return the next day.

Staring up at the ceiling, Lirah whispered "I've got to get out of here."

She got up, slowly, remembering to be careful. It wasn't hard, the pain in her side was still horrendous. She walked to the table where the hooded cloak she had originally been wearing had been placed, folded.

She tied the garment's strings about her neck and pulled the hood over her face.

The idiots hadn't locked the door. Well, they obviously didn't want her to stay.

She stuck her head out the door and peered down the hallway. No one.

"Hello?" called Arwen. The hooded person stopped. They must have known who she was, because whoever the person was bowed. They then continued on their way.

"Pardon me, but may I inquire as to who you are?"

"Forgive me, Queen, but my name is not fit for these great halls. I am not permitted to speak it."

Very unusual, thought Arwen. "Madam," she called out once more. "I am intrigued by your appearance and your refusal to make yourself known. Tell me who you are. Or at least let me see your face."

Lirah knew that ignoring a direct command from the queen of Gondor would be foolish. She also knew that her mother would not likely recognize her face.

"As you wish, my lady."

She pulled off her hood.

Arwen's eyes grew wide in surprise. "Why you look incredibly familiar. You look almost like…well you rather look like me." The queen walked forward to look at Lirah's face more closely.

And suddenly her face turned ashen.

"Where did you get that?" she whispered.

Lirah knew she had seen her necklace. It was made of ruby and mithril, and was given to her at birth by her mother.

"I've always had it. Ever since I was a child."

Arwen did not understand though, she was in shock at seeing the necklace.

"Lirah! Lirah!" a voice cried out.

The two women turned to see Tristo running towards them.

"Lirah," he said. "Shouldn't you be in bed? I thought you were sick?"

"Yes, Tristo, I should. I miss my home though, and I was just going to leave."

"Oh but you mustn't leave. Faramir and Eowyn were going to bring you a kitten. They told me it is a surprise. You mustn't leave, you're nice and you look like Mama."

Arwen's face had, if anything turned whiter. She opened her mouth and stood there for a moment. Then she screamed.

Tristo, confused, started to cry and ran away.

"You're alive! How is it that you lived? Aragorn said you had died, you were born weak." Her voice came out barely audible. There were tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I…I was raised by some dwarves who found me on a mountainside. They kept me for ten years, and told me how they'd seen a man leave me there, to die, when I was three days old, calling me Lirah. They said I'd had this necklace on me, and elven garments. After ten years they turned me over to some wood elves and I lived with them for awhile."

"But he said…"

"I don't know. I must go though, I was instructed not to speak to you. Legolas said I wasn't allowed to and…"

"No you weren't allowed to," said Legolas, knocking Lirah to the ground. "My lady, are you alright, I heard your scream, and I came running. What did this woman do to you? She was under orders from the king that she was not allowed to see or speak to you."

"What have you done? Get out! Do you know who this is? Look at the state of her! Get out and get me Faramir. Why wouldn't he tell me she was alive? Unless it was him that left her there to die!!! Get out and speak of this to no one, especially the king!!! And get me Faramir now! GO!"

Legolas, for the first time since Lirah had seen him, looked surprised. He turned and ran.

Arwen knelt down next to her daughter, sobbing.

"What did he do to you? Are you hurt?"

"I'm alright, mother. I fell on my arm oddly though. It pains me. At least the cut didn't reopen."

At that moment Faramir came in. He took in the whole scene with on glance. "Where shall I take her? I don't know what the king means to do with her. It seems that he does not wish for her to be around, and he may imprison her. She needs to be somewhere safe where she will have the conditions to heal her injuries, without further danger to be harmed."

"Take her to Rohan. Eomer will understand. I'll go with Tristo to visit her shortly."

Faramir picked up Lirah, and left. The queen, overcome, sank to the ground, and sobbed.