A/N: I can't believe that I am nearing the last few chapters of this story... It makes me both sad, and excited! The bad boy is nearly two years old! I never thought I'd still be writing this thing two years later, let alone have the patience, and effort to continue it. Neat.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Kayla Harris. All rights for Lord of the Rings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and his family. I also do not own any other references made throughout this story.

Journey to a Curious Place

Chapter Twenty-Five

White Houses

I awoke with a start. Everything hurt. It felt like I had been kicked in the ribs about eighteen and a half times. My chest felt tight, and my mouth was so dry if could have been the Sahara Desert. My tongue felt like it had turned into a huge wad of cotton, and judging by the amount of crust clinging to my eyes, it felt like I had been asleep for a generation. With great effort, I struggled to sit up, my mind wiping away the fuzziness from my head and eyes, as I tried to remember what had happened, and where I was now.

I was laying in a bed, covered in a thin, white sheet. It provided little warmth against the cold air that seeped through the open stone window nearby. The curtains around the best billowed about like the robes of a ghost, and I felt a chill run through me. I strained my eyes in the dim light of the room, lit only with a single torch by the door, possibly to allow me to rest. As I look around, I saw a pitcher, clean, and clear as crystal, filled with water, and a cup beside it. Parched, I lunged for the cup.

I started screaming. The pain was unbelievable. It felt like someone had ripped a hole in my side –

Suddenly it all came back to me. The battle, the two orcs, and the one that had shanked me in the side. I looked down, gingerly lifting up the white nightgown I now realized I was wearing. Who had dressed me? Who had brought me here? I didn't want to dwell on it as the shirt was lifted, and I saw the crude bandaging of my side, feeling the gouge sting as I did. Dark blood had soaked these bandages, and I wondered, and hoped, that they had been changed. I really wasn't looking forward to a potential infection. I made a mental note to ask for some hot water and a clean cloth, and I would clean it myself. Not that I didn't trust the healers to do a good job, it was just that I was from a different time and place, and knew a bit more about cleaning than they did.

I carefully pulled the shirt/gown back down, and moved my body at a snail's pace, making it to the pitcher, and shakily poured myself some water. I gulped it down like an animal, before wiping my mouth clean, and drinking more. It was then that I realized how badly I had to pee.

Now, let me begin by saying that trying to pee in a chamber pot when you've been stabbed is not easy. How do I best describe this? It's like trying to do anything when you have a terrible cramp in your side. You know the one I'm talking about. The one that literally feels like you've been stabbed in the gut (I know, the irony). Every breath is pain, and every movement feels like it could be your last. The stitch that basically wants you to just kill yourself. Even simple tasks like peeing is hard. Really demeaning, trust me.

Somehow, and let me stress the somehow of this statement, I managed to get myself onto the chamber pot, and emptied my screaming bladder. God, did it feel good to do so. It felt like I had been holding in my pee for days, weeks even. Once I had finished up, and struggled to get myself tidied up, washed my hands and face in the nearby basin, I dragged myself back into bed. I lay down, and gingerly lifted the shirt again, examining my wound more thoroughly.

It appeared that someone had managed to semi clean the wound, and beneath the bandages was a crude attempt at stitching me back together. There were ugly stitches lining the stab wound, which in and of itself wasn't very big, maybe an inch and a half in length. It could have been a foot wide, considering how much it still stung like a bitch, making me wince when I moved any which way. It would be a few weeks, maybe even a month, before the wound was fully healed. I was going to have to avoid any strenuous activity until then.

I began to feel my eyes growing heavy, as I began to drift back into sleep. Christ, I was exhausted. A few more hours couldn't hurt, I was sure.

I awoke a few hours later, I suspected, as sunlight was beginning to stream through the windows now, and the air was much less cold. I guessed that I had originally awoken at dawn, when the sun had only just begun to rise. Now, by the looks of things, it was the morning, maybe around 9am or 10am. I lifted myself up, and already I felt better. My side was still aching and sore; I knew that a few extra hours of sleep wouldn't fix anything, but I also knew that cells repaired themselves faster when the body was resting. So, ergo, the more rest I had, the faster I'd be back on my feet. For now, however, I wanted to see what had happened with the battle.

I pulled myself out of bed, and hobbled across the threshold, wrapping my sheet more securely around my body. There were no clothes nearby for me to dress into. I was going to have to limp around in my sheet and nightgown until I found someone who knew where my things were.

I poked my head out of the door, looking down the hall. I didn't recognize this part of the keep, if that's even where I was. The halls were dark, lit only with dim torches, but the white glow from the curtains hanging from open windows gave it an eerie feel. I strained my eyes, struggling to see in the dimness. I began to exit the room, when I heard footsteps. I froze. I could see, at the end of the hall, a glowing light beginning to get slowly brighter. Someone was coming.

Instinctively, I stepped backwards, returning back into my room. I shut the door as quietly as I could, slipping back into bed. I wasn't sure why I was suddenly so nervous, but as I pulled the sheets over my face, in order to poorly hide, I heard my door open. Carefully, I peeked out above the sheets to see who it was.

My heart nearly beat its way out of my chest.

Boromir was standing in the doorway, surveying me. He looked a little worse for wear. There were deep circles under his grey-green eyes, and a deep cut along his cheek. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and I saw his knuckles were bruised and cut up. But nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to the look he had on his face when he saw me sitting up, looking at him with disbelief on my face. He was alive.

"Boromir?" My voice sounded so weak by comparison to the screaming going on inside my own head. I struggled to sit up, but did so too quickly. I felt a stab of pain shoot through my side, and I gasped aloud, falling back onto the bed with a very unladylike grunt.

Almost as soon as I did, Boromir was across the room in a second, and was gently helping me sit up. I was in so much pain, my brain didn't even have time to register that his hand was low on my back and, were I in a better place mentally, I'd have been utterly losing my shit. Instead, I weakly allowed him to lay me down in such a way that I was propped up on the pillow. I was thankful that the wound was much less gross now, and merely achy. But still, stabby achy was not a fun feeling.

"Kayla, are you alright?" Boromir's voice held deep concern, and I focused in on him, forcing a smile.

"I'm fine, I'm okay. Are you okay?" I gently removed his hands, and leaned back on the pillow. "What happened? Did we win?"

Boromir retrieved a chair from the other side of the room, bringing it over, and seating himself next to me. He began to nod as he spoke. "We did, yes. The battle is won. Rohan arrived, and together, along with the help of Aragorn and an Undead force, we drove back the armies of Mordor. We march on the gates of Mordor within the week."

Relief, but also worry, washed through me, and I had to force a smile. "I'm so glad to hear it. Thank God." My eyes travelled to his cheek, and I slowly reached out to touch his face. Boromir slowly leaned into my touch, and I felt a chill run through me. "Are you okay? That looks like a pretty nasty cut."

Boromir removed my hand with ease, putting it softly back down on my lap. "I will be fine; but enough about me, Kayla. I came to see you. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, and looked down at my midriff, that was somehow now showing, as the nightgown had ridden up on my paler than usual skin. "I'm alright, I think. My side hurts, but I'm alive, and that's what matters." A thought crossed my mind, "how long was I out?" I asked slowly, looking up at Boromir.

The Gondorian looked pained. "Three days, Kayla."

Holy Hell, no wonder I had been so thirsty, and had to pee so badly when I woke up. I had been asleep for three days? How much blood had I lost? Jesus Christ on a piece of toast.

I stared at him. "Three days? Christ." All too late I realized what I'd said. Boromir raised a brow?

"Christ? What is that?"

I paled even further, "Nothing," I said quickly, struggling to change the subject. "Was anyone else hurt? Aragorn? Legolas? Gimli?"

Boromir's confusion turned grim again, and I felt my heart flutter in worry. "We had a number of casualties during the battle, yes." His voice was low, and it looked as though it cause him great pain to discuss this. "Aragorn sustained minor injuries, as well as Legolas and Gimli. Ther others, however, were not so lucky."

Fear gripped me. "What do you mean? Boromir, who's dead?"

He shook his head, "No one, thankfully. But not for a lack of trying on the enemy's part, I will admit." He sat back in the chair, lacing his fingers together. He looked the perfect image of a Lord, and I felt my heart flutter for a whole other reason. "Lady Éowyn was gravely injured during a fight with the Witch King himself. He is dead because of her. She is here in the Healing Houses, as well."

Ah, so that was where I was. No wonder I didn't recognize anything. I was in the Healing Houses of Minas Tirith. "Is Éowyn alright?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Boromir nodded, "She is awake as of this morn, and will make a full recovery."

I nodded, "Good, I'm glad. Éowyn is a dear friend, I'd hate if something happened to her. What about the others?"

"Faramir was injured as well. He took an arrow to the shoulder, but he will heal well, according to the healers here. Merry was also injured, but is being tended to by Pippin as we speak."

"So, everyone is alright, then? Nothing too serious?" I had a hard time keeping the joy from my voice as I spoke. I was so glad that, despite my seemingly best efforts to royally fuck up the entire plot of this world, no other casualties had happened.

"Well, except yourself, Kayla." Boromir's voice held something in it that I had never heard before.

"Boromir?" I said softly, "Is everything alright?"

He leaned back in the chair, looking at me. It was then that I could see the raw pain in his eyes. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, were that even something Boromir would ever do. "Kayla," he began slowly, "I am so sorry."

Huh? "Sorry? For what? Boromir, you didn't do anything wrong."

He shook his head, "You were ambushed, and we did not leave anyone with you to keep you guarded. It was a foolish move on my part. I should have left someone with you to keep you safe. Had I done so, you may not have been injured."

I stared at him. Oh my god, he was blaming himself for me getting hurt? My heart ached, and I stared at him, my mouth hanging slightly open from shock. "Boromir, are you kidding?"

"No, Kayla, I'm not." His tone was firm, and he looked tired, hurt, and also something else. "When my guards informed me that Pippin had came and told them what had happened, I feared the worst. They wouldn't let me see you, you condition was too severe. I had to wait a full day before I was allowed to come see you, and even then you were not awake. They said you had passed out from blood loss, and it was unlikely when you would awaken." His voice sounded strained, and I heard a crack in it that nearly brought me to tears.

I reached out to take his hand in my weak, cold one. He squeezed once, and I whispered, "Boromir, I..." I was at a loss for words. What could I possibly say that could ease the torture he had been put through for three days?

"I have come here several times a day ever since, to see how you are, and if you had awoken. This morning, it would seem I was lucky." Boromir's voice held weariness, but also relief. I smiled gently, and he returned it.

"I guess so," I said softly. We sat for a moment in silence, before I asked, "Have you been to see Faramir at all? I hope you didn't fret over me too much."

He nodded, "I have. The first day I went to see him as well. He was awake, and told me to tend to you in the meantime, and I have."

My eyes widened, "Wait, when you say "Tend to me", does that mean you were the one who changed my bandages, and got me out of my armour?"

There was a heavy, and very awkward, silence now filling the room. Boromir didn't meet my gaze for a moment, before answering. "The healers did on the first night, but they had so many to tend to, that I offered to help afterwards."

I stared at him, screaming internally, and quite possibly about to externally. "So... What you're saying is... You saw me naked?"

I saw colour rush to Boromir's cheeks like blood on white snow. "Not in that sense; I was tending to your wounds – "

"Yes or no?" I managed to choke out.

He looked anywhere but at me. "Yes."

I was mortified. Everything sounded like my heart that was banging against my ribcage at a speed so rapid, I could go into cardiac arrest at any moment. Boromir had seen me naked. HE HAD SEEN ME NAKED. Oh, God, oh my, GOD. I was literally about to lose my shit, when Boromir suddenly spoke, and what he said made me nearly faint.

"If I may say so, Kayla, to help you feel better..." He refused to meet my gaze as he said the last part. "I did not mind."

I stared at him, and before I could stop myself, I burst out laughing. It was not the reaction I myself, and I'm sure Boromir, had expected. He stared at me as I was laughing, and when I had calmed, I wiped a tear from my eye, and looked at him. "You didn't mind seeing me naked, did you?" I couldn't stop the goofy smile from spreading across my face as I spoke.

Now it was Boromir's turn to laugh, and that seemed to ease the tension in the room as we both sat there, laughing like idiots. I wasn't sure why exactly we were, but I wasn't going to start complaining.

Boromir paused to take a breath. "I will admit, it has been some time since I have seen a woman unclothed. Despite it being under unpleasant circumstances, I will not say that seeing you in undress was unpleasant. The wound, however, was very distracting." I snorted, and he did as well. I had never seen Boromir so at ease before, I liked it. Laughing certainly helped draw my attention away from the pain in my side. At that, however, I remembered that I had been stabbed, and I winced, my hand moving to the wound, my eyes beginning to water a bit.

Boromir's mouth changed to a straight line, and he looked ashamed. "My apologies, Kayla. I should not have made you laugh so hard. You are still healing." He motioned to get up, "I should let you rest." As he began to stand, I reached out, catching his hand in mine, pulling him back to he was seated on the edge of my bed. Boromir looked at my curiously. "Kayla?" I realized I was staring at him.

It was now or never.

Boromir was leaving to Mordor in less than a week now. Hell, it could even be tomorrow. I was laying here in bed, having almost been killed, not knowing a the time if he was dead or alive. Pippin had flat out asked me if I was in love with Boromir, and I was. I could admit it to myself now. I loved him. How long I had, I did not know. But, I knew that I was in love with Boromir of Gondor, son of the late Denethor, and brother to Faramir.

I took a breath. "Boromir, there's something I've been meaning to tell you..." I sat up, so my face was level with his; so close... Before I could continue, Boromir spoke.

"Kayla, I – there is something I would like to say, as well." He looked down, and I felt his hand slowly take mine in his. I watched as his eyebrows knitted together, and he seemed to be struggling to find the right words. Never had I never thought I would see Boromir as flustered as he was right now. "We have been through a great deal together, you and I. There was a time that we did not get along, I remember. But, that time feels like another life. Now, I cannot imagine myself not being able to speak with you every day." He looked up at me now, and I was certain I had the most ridiculous look on my face. I tried to speak, but he held up a hand, indicating that he wanted to continue, and I firmly shut my mouth.

"When I was told that you had been injured, and were in serious condition, I feared the worst. My thoughts went to you not surviving, and the thought of that... It tore me apart, Kayla." I saw a thin film of what looked like tears appear over his eyes. "Kayla," he took a breath, and all at once I knew what was about to happen, "what I am attempting to say, and in a very poor way, is that... I..." our eyes were interlocked, and I could feel his grip on my hand tightening.

I looked up at the man whose life I had accidentally saved all those months ago. The man I had travelled across Middle Earth with. The man who had saved my life countless times. The man who had given me a life.

Suddenly, none of it mattered. I had been trying to deny my feelings for Boromir for so long, and only had finally come to terms with them. I had spent so many nights worrying. He had been living inside my head for so long, and now I could see that I'd been living in his. There was no sense in trying to pretend anymore. There would be no perfect place to tell him; no perfect scenario, and no perfect time. I mean, after all...

Timing's a bitch.

I stared up at him, knowing what I wanted to do, what I'd always wanted to do ever since I realized how I felt about him, and what I wanted to say. I felt my lips curve in a smile that I had not felt in a long, long time, but one I had always known was there. I reached out and touched his face, slowly caressing his cheek with my other hand, before putting it on the back of his head.

"I know."

And then I drew his face to mine, and kissed him.

It was like a billion fireworks went off inside my head. The internal screaming became an internal cheer, that rose higher and louder than any I had ever heard. I could hear a thousand voices screaming, "FINALLY!" As we kissed.

Boromir's hands moved to my face, cupping it in them. My hand on the back of his head fisted his hair, deepening the kiss, as he did the same. I moved slowly, as to not aggravate my wound, and inched closer to him. I pressed myself into his chest, and one of his hands moved to my lower back, holding me there against him, gently, to firmly. His lips were rough, just as I imagined, but they felt amazing against mine. His movements were slow and deliberate, making me see stars. Man, if I wasn't hurt right now... That goddamn nightgown would be on the floor faster than a speeding arrow.

Without thinking, my tongue gently traced his lower lip, causing him to groan into my mouth, and it sent a chill through me. His breath sounded laboured, as did mine, as we grabbed at one another, making out like two crazed teenagers, but not so much as I was injured further. Finally, we had to come up for air, but all too soon.

We broke apart, and stared at each other. It took a few seconds, but we then both broke into nervous laughter. I giggled, biting my lower lip, and my eyes crinkling in the corners. Boromir was smiling, and we both seemed at a loss for words. Boromir was the first to speak, and he sounded out of breath.

"Finally." He said it with a half laugh, half sigh, and I felt my grin getting wider.

"Finally." I repeated the word, and his smile grew, as he gently drew me into him, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead, before drawing me close into him, holding me against his chest. We stayed like that for a few moments, before Boromir slowly let go of me, allowing me to lay back down. I was still healing, and we both knew that. He stood now, finally, looking down at me.

"I cannot tell you how long I have wished to do that, Kayla." His tone was soft, and warmer than I had ever heard it.

I blinked back tears that I assumed were of joy. "Me, too."

He reached out, squeezing my hand once more. "I will let you rest, but I will return later to see how you are. I will tell the healers to have some food sent to you, as well." We exchanged a soft smile, before he moved towards the door. Before he exited, he turned back to look at me, and there was a smile on his face that held something else.

"Rest well, Lady Kayla."

I had to keep from laughing again, and bit my lower lip instead, smiling widely, my heart full.

"Thank you, Lord Boromir."

A/N: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! FINALLY, AM I RIGHT? IT ONLY TOOK ME WHAT, TWO YEARS AND 25 CHAPTERS? You're welcome, fandom. I love you all. This was short, I know, but I had to get this fucking thing out. We were all waiting for it, and dammit, I couldn't wait any longer, either. Stay tuned for the next update!