The next day…
The first one stirred…
Gandalf waited for Sam to wake fully…
Moments later, Sam opened his eyes, focusing in his confusion on the ceiling.
Where was he?
What a frightful dream that was! How glad he was to wake! Goodness!...
"You are in Minas Tirith, in Gondor, Samwise Gamgee."
There was something distinctly queer about that voice, no more the less because it was…
"Gandalf!"
The Istari nodded, smiling as the Hobbit's eyes grew wide in remembrance of all that had happened since they saw each other last. Immediately he looked toward the sleeping Frodo, picking up his wounded hand carefully. "Will he be all right?" Sam asked.
"Yes, Sam, he will get well." Gandalf said.
Sam relaxed back into the pillows. "That's all right, then. But…the others?"
"They are all well. No one died, you needn't fear."
"Strider…" Sam looked up at Gandalf, confused. "He did come. Didn't he? I…he was there, when things were so terrible?"
"He brought you back, Sam." Gandalf said. "But close your eyes again, Samwise the Faithful, and rest. Frodo will be fine." He continued, his tone mock-stern though he did not quite succeed in wiping the grin off his face.
Sam laughed. "It's good to see you, Gandalf." He said, closing his eyes, dipping suddenly back into sleep.
……
When Frodo began to stir Gandalf did something he very rarely did. He mind-spoke to the Fellowship and Faramir. "Come quickly, friends. Frodo wakes."
Helping in the rebuilding of the City, Aragorn and Legolas nearly dropped the heavy stone they were carrying when they heard Gandalf's call. Gimli, directing the building efforts, stopped mid-sentence and began smiling and chuckling in relief.
Merry and Pippin were in the Gardens, doing their part in the rebuilding by reshaping the fruit trees and vegetables and clearing debris. The moment they heard Gandalf they took off in a wordless run toward the Houses of Healing.
In the libraries, Faramir was poring over an old scroll, studying the foundations of the City and creating blueprints for Her repair. A slow smile spread over his face as he heard Gandalf's call. Frodo woke. Their work was rewarded.
Visiting the wounded Men in one of the Houses, Boromir turned suddenly pensive when he heard Gandalf. Frodo woke. With a heavy tread, he walked to the House in which Frodo lay waiting…
He was awake, Frodo realized, rather absent-mindedly. Bother! He didn't really want to be, not from such a peaceful sleep. Ah, well. Gollum would probably come and bother them with his mindless driv—Wait.
Gollum was dead, the Ring gone.
Then was he dead? He was warm, at any rate. Gingerly, he opened his eyes, focusing gradually on something white and blurred and…Frodo blinked. "Gandalf?" He asked when the apparition did not disappear.
"I'm here, my boy!" Gandalf said, his eyes bright with tears.
Waking, Sam gasped at Frodo. "Mr. Frodo! You're awake!"
Frodo gaped. "Am I?" he asked.
Gandalf began to laugh. "See for yourself," he said, gesturing towards the two hobbits peeping through the door.
Frodo's face brightened. "Merry! Pippin!" Without a second thought, the two jumped on the bed, frolicking and jumping even as Frodo hugged them tightly, only letting go when Aragorn strolled through the door.
"You have been in the keeping of the King." Gandalf said.
"Yes, I know." Frodo answered, looking gratefully up at Aragorn. "Thank you." he said, his tone expressing much more than the simple words. Aragorn bowed his head.
Legolas and Gimli strode in next, Gimli laughing his short, barking laugh, raising his hands above his head and chortling in glee.
Boromir waited just outside Frodo's room, anxious, fiddling with the strappings on his tunic. Faramir, breathing hard after climbing up flights upon flights of stairs, found Boromir there.
"What are you waiting for?" he asked, knowing the answer.
"I…Courage." Boromir said abruptly.
"He waits for you." Faramir replied.
"I raised my hand against him, Faramir! What if I hurt him too badly? What if he still fears me?" Boromir said, the words coming in a rush.
"He waits for you," Faramir repeated. "I quizzed him at Henneth Annun, brother. He holds no grudge. Will you come?"
Suddenly, Frodo's voice floated thinly from the doorway. "And…the others? Boromir and Faramir? Are they well?…"
Faramir looked at Boromir, waiting his answer.
"Go!" Boromir said. "I'll come."
Faramir walked over.
"Faramir!" came Frodo's overjoyed call. In spite of himself, Boromir smiled. He was pleased to hear the delight in Frodo's voice. In the ensuing mumble of conversation Boromir caught a snippet – "the very finest, sir." Sam said.
Well, that was that, then. Boromir felt resigned rather than hurt. They were happy together, they did not need hi—
"But where is Boromir? He does live, does he not? Why doesn't he come?" Again Frodo's slight voice came from within the room, a note of worry creeping into his tone.
Boromir stifled an unexpected gasp at hearing Frodo's plaintive voice asking for him. Moments later, Faramir, Merry, and Pippin strode out the door.
"He's waiting for you, Boromir." Pippin said impatiently.
Merry nodded. "He wants to see you."
Faramir, his arms crossed over his chest, waited.
Swallowing back his trepidation, Boromir steeled himself and walked in, Merry and Pippin half-dragging him along. Boromir flinched as he met Frodo's gaze, still expecting dismay, or fear, or embarrassment in the careworn hobbit's features.
There was nothing but love. Try as hard as he might, he could not see a hint of reproach in Frodo's eyes. In a sudden bound, he crossed the room and knelt at Frodo's side, taking Frodo's hands and hugging them to his chest. "I'm so sorry!" he said, a sheen of tears over his eyes as he bent over Frodo's arms. So gently, Frodo pulled his unhurt hand from Boromir's grasp. Tipping Boromir's chin upwards, he brushed the hair out of Boromir's eyes, so that green eyes met blue.
"Boromir, my dear friend!" Frodo said. "Peace. I understand, now."
Feeling rather ashamed for thinking about his sword, Sam reached out and placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder, Aragorn following suit.
"The Fellowship is reunited." Gandalf said, his gaze resting approvingly on Boromir.
"I'm so glad!" Frodo said fervently.
"Yes," thought Boromir. "I am too."
……
The next day…
Aragorn caught up with Boromir and Faramir at the breakfast table. "May I sit with you?" he asked.
His mouth full, Boromir waved his hand at a seat, indicating that Aragorn should sit. Faramir filled in for him. "Have a seat."
"Thank you." Aragorn said, seeming somewhat ill at ease.
"Aragorn?" Faramir said. "Something troubles you?"
He took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about the Stewardship." Aragorn said.
The brothers nodded. "What about it?" asked Boromir, darting a glance at Faramir.
"Boromir would be Steward next, I believe." Aragorn said, looking at Boromir.
"Yes." Faramir answered, puzzled. "He is the eldest."
"Then what of Faramir?" Aragorn asked intently, transferring his gaze to Faramir.
"I—" Faramir shrugged. "I stay Captain of the Rangers."
"Aragorn," Boromir broke in. "I—"
Aragorn cut in over Boromir's words. "And if I were to ask both of you to be Stewards? One to be Captain-General…" here he looked at Boromir again, "and the other to take care of courtly duties?" he continued, gazing at Faramir. "I know nothing of ruling, and want you both by my side."
Boromir grinned, and Faramir felt a painful blush creep up his neck. He was the first to speak. "Ah…Boromir and I discussed that many times, and—"
"And I wanted him to be Steward with me."
Aragorn grinned. "You'll do it, then? Boromir and Faramir as Stewards?"
Boromir agreed without a moment's hesitation. Faramir delayed his reply.
"Faramir?" Boromir asked.
"I…have a post, already, that I'm not sure if it is right for me to leave."
"Appoint Romin in your place." Boromir offered.
Faramir looked at him. "I suppose I could?"
"Captain of the Ithilien Rangers, right?" Aragorn asked, his disappointment masked in his admiration of the younger man.
Faramir nodded, still somewhere in his memories. "May I have a few days? I will speak with my Rangers and see what they suggest."
"Of course." Aragorn said. "Though if it is any incentive, the Rangers will not have to go for long excursions into Ithilien anymore, for Ithilien will blossom again, and protect herself.
Faramir nodded again thoughtfully.
……
The guards didn't see the Elf that slipped in with the Rohirrim caravan going through the gates. Making sure that his hooded cloak covered the tips of his ears, Glorfindel of Rivendell set off to find Legolas, to…orchestrate--something.
He sighed. Of course, the first one he'd come across would be the Dwarf. And of course, the Dwarf had to recognize him and come up to him.
"Well, Elf?" Gimli prodded.
Was that…a smile…on Gimli's face? Glorfindel felt his eyebrows go up. No, it was just passing light. Yes, that was what it was.
"Valar…" he breathed. Well, nothing for it. He'd have to spill. "Master Gimli, if you tell Estel I'm here Elrond will trounce me for an idiot."
"Aren't you one already?" Gimli said.
Glorfindel bristled, thinking that Gimli meant offense, but the twinkle in the Dwarf's eyes belied the insult. Glorfindel cocked his head at him. "You have changed." He hazarded.
"You've no idea." Gimli said, chuckling. "But I'm more in my element here, in this City of Stone, and what's more, you've never done any harm. I have no argument with you, Elf."
Glorfindel gaped.
Gimli sighed. "Let it rest at that, if you please. Aren't you lot supposed to go around in droves? If there's one, more are sure to follow? That sort of thing?"
"What? Er, yes. Legolas. I have to find Legolas. El—You swear not to tell?"
Gimli nodded, recognition dawning in his eyes.
"The lords and ladies of the three Elven realms are coming to Gondor. Elrond and Arwen of Rivendell, Celeborn and Galadriel of Lothlorien, and Thranduil of Mirkwood. They follow two days behind, and will stay out of sight until the coronation. I was sent to scout ahead to see when it will take place so that Elrond may present Arwen to Aragorn on the day of his coronation."
It was Gimli's turn to gape. "Galadriel?" he asked, his tone hushed. "She comes? And Arwen?"
With sudden insight, Glorfindel studied the Dwarf. A slow, appraising smile dawned on the Elf's face as he understood Gimli's change of heart to the Elves. "You see why I need Legolas?"
Gimli looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. "Legolas? Yes…Legolas. Ah, he's in the Second Level. Follow me." Gimli took off, muttering absently to himself, Glorfindel alongside him, to find Legolas and construct a plan.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have a challenge to pose. This story has only three chapters left, and 41 reviews. Can this story get 50 reviews by the time I say finis? Please? Only three reviews per chapter.