Hey, all. Thanks for your reviews and dedication to my story! It makes me very happy to know that someone likes it. :) And I know you guys would love to see more Collin point of view, and I wish I could give it to you. You see, initially, his point of view wasn't going to exist at all. It was all supposed to be in a side story- a connection with the journal that he wrote in in the earlier bits of this story. I posted a chapter, and intended to write more, but I could not find a way to make it flow well with this story. BUT. That doesn't mean that there won't be more Collin POV opportunities! Actually, I've got the end written, and A LOT of it is in his POV. I can't really do it right now, because I might be tempted to give some information away...
But I'll see what I can do! I want to make you all happy. :) Here, I'll throw a little bit in, now! But it can't be about Sophie... :( Not yet!
Oh, and Plain Jane (if you remember that old story of mine) should have an epilogue up here, soon.
I don't own Lord of the Rings.
(Collin)
"What do you mean, he won't call for help?" Gandalf was fuming, clutching his staff so tight his knuckles were white. I would not want to be Denethor, right now. "Sauron's armies are marching towards us as we speak, and your father can't get it through his thick skull that we are in desperate need of Rohan's cavalry?"
Boromir sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I understand, Gandalf. My father has far too much trust in my abilities. As of now, he insists that we take care of the situation on our own. Of course, he does not comprehend the forces that we are up against, nor does it truly matter, to him. He knows of Aragorn, and he is plotting to keep his hold on Gondor as we speak. The battle for his power is more important than the battle for his people, at present."
Bloody prick. "I say we just go in there and beat him up, right now." Nothing personal. I just don't appreciate power-hungry old men. Probably shouldn't have suggested that out loud outside of the Citadel, though... Some of the guards are giving me rather dangerous looks...
But I'm used to it.
Gandalf sent me a warning glance, even though I know for a fact that he favored my idea over everything else. That wizard was just dying to break his staff over Denethor's skull. "We must not let ourselves fall apart. If we are to defeat Sauron, we must remain strong..."
"And we need King Theoden to get his rear end over here." Preferably before the hordes of orcs arrive.
"Yes." Gandalf nodded. "We must send for them, regardless of Denethor's wishes."
"I can convince my father, but I need more time..." Boromir began, but Gandalf cut him off.
"Time is a luxury that we do not have, Boromir. This needs to be done, now."
Boromir sighed, sitting down on a stone bench. "Then it looks as though we must light the beacons. In secret, of course."
Ohh yes. I'm good with secrets. I am, in fact, a certified ninja. Sort of. And besides, "I always look forward to angering cranky old men."
"Then you shall have the time of your life, today!" Laughed Boromir. "Unfortunately, I will not be able to help you. Father mentioned recapturing Osgiliat, and that is simply out of the question. I must meet with Faramir, so that I may finally be caught up on recent activities."
"Boo, quitter!" Who can possibly turn down an opportunity to sneak around and play pranks on their father? Boromir's a far better behaved son than I was. Of course, my father had an equally as nutty mind as I did. It was my poor mother who suffered...
Gandalf wacked me on the head with his staff. "Collin, this is no time for your strange remarks. We need a plan."
You see, Gandalf is typically the one to come up with plans. There's no doubt it my mind that he's a genius, and there is no end to my respect for the old wizard. Still, that doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to steal the spotlight, once in a while. And believe me, I felt pretty proud of myself by the end of the day. My eyes moved to look at Pippin, who had been standing quietly within our little group, lost in thoughts of home. He snapped out of his daze, raising an eyebrow at me.
"What is it?" He asked, and a small grin formed on my lips.
"Gandalf, listen to this..."
.
.
"Good day, men!" I called out to the soldiers guarding the beacon, who were sitting lazily in a circle, cooking their midday meal. Rather poor guard qualities, but this only made it easier for me to put my plan into motion.
The men looked up to me, recognizing me as the lord from Rohan. They were younger soldiers, young enough to not remember me from the last time that I was in Minas Tirith. I felt bad for them, in a way. Here I was, putting their jobs in jeopardy. Of course, they won't be out of work for long. Minas Tirith will need all of the soldiers they can get, and, if we all survive that, I'm sure that Denethor's going to drop dead sooner or later. Then, Aragorn or Boromir will be in charge, and these poor soldiers can have their jobs back!
I also like to think that this will get them into the history books. So, think of it as me doing them a favor, all the while saving the free world.
I am so hardcore.
Anyways.
"Good day, my lord." They stood to attention, just like any good soldiers would. "Do you need something?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do!" I took a lone stool by their little fire and sat down. "Do either of you know how to play Go Fish?"
The two guards looked at each other, unsure. "Do you mean, have we ever gone fishing?"
Sigh. "No, no, no. 'Tis a card game! Sit, sit, I will show you."
"My lord, we ought to be watching the beacon. What if Lord Denethor orders it to be lit?" One of the guards said, but I shook my head.
"Then you will take a torch and light it. It is an easy job, one that hardly requires any guards, let alone two." In all reality, a child could do this job just as effectively. Tell them to search for dragons, and to light the beacon when they see one. That'll keep them occupied for hours. "'Tis quite simple, really. The goal is to get pairs. A king with a king, queen with a queen, and numbers with the same numbers. We take turns asking each other if we have a card that we desire, and if they don't have your desired card, they say 'go fish!' and you are doomed to pick from the card pile. Understood?
With the looks on their faces, I would assume that these mighty warriors have failed to understand a child's simplest game. Heck, the world's simplest game. Some would argue that 'house' is the world's simplest game, but I completely disagree. Playing marriage with children at the age of nine is quite the challenge. I've been through more babies and divorces with Sophie in my lifetime than any man should experience. Oh, the troubles of childhood love.
"Is this game popular in Rohan?" One of the soldiers asked, which reminded me that I hadn't played 'go fish' since... Well. Probably since freshman year of high school. Maybe even Sophomore year? We were quite odd that year...
"No, actually, the men of Rohan prefer to play Uecker or Texas Holdem. Unfortunately, a mere three people wouldn't be good for such games." Not that I could remember to play them. I'm sure that I have a tape of me playing the games, somewhere... "Anyways, let's begin!"
The soldiers actually grasped the game pretty well. That was good. It gave me a slight hope for the intelligence of these people. Fortunately for me, I was able to manipluate the game and make up my own rules and terms, making the simple game quite... Complex. Not only that, but it was changed to make me the absolute overlord. I was getting so into this game, that I hardly noticed Pippin sneaking up to the beacon and preparing it for a fire. The soldiers were too busy trying to win to even care.
Then, in a matter of moments, another soldier ran up to us in a panic. "The beacon is lit, the beacon is lit! Put it out!"
"Welp, that's my que to leave!" I quickly swept the cards into my hands and snuck away as the soldiers tossed water onto the growing flames. Haha! Success!
(Sophie)
Huh.
I angled my head, like it'd somehow change the fact that there was a blazing fire going on up in the highest level of Minas Tirith. The beacon, of course, but the smoke billowing out of it was ridiculous. I could see the tiny figures up there, trying to put it out. But why? You'd think that these soldiers would welcome a little help, no matter what their crazy steward says.
Of course, that's about all of the story I know. No one tells me anything, anymore.
Sigh...
I sat alone on the balcony of Gandalf's little house, munching on some berries that I'd gotten in the market. It was a rather interesting moment for me. The person selling these berries didn't even charge me any money. It was awesome, but weird. I can deal with free berry handouts, but the second someone tries to shower me with expensive gifts, I'm locking myself in my room.
Or not. Maybe I'll embrace it? At the moment, I was just glad to get some food. Gandalf sucks at keeping a house! The only time we managed last time was because Kristy was flipping amazing and making blueberry pancakes all of the time...
Wonder if she's on her way, now?
(Kristy)
"Eomer, stop."
"What?" The warrior questioned innocently.
"You're eating like a pig!" Seriously, man. Do you not feel the blueberry juice dripping down your face? Better yet, don't you feel your stomach exploding after eating a billion pancakes? I whipped out a cloth and wiped the man's face clean, much to his distress.
"I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself!" Eomer swiped at my hand like a child.
I rolled my eyes, giving up on the man. "Clearly."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Do not blame me for your good cooking!"
"No, I blame my mother for that! And I blame your uncle for your poor manners!" I bravely teased the king, who chuckled in response. He and I were becoming quick friends. you can thank my awesome baking skills for that! Even though I had nothing to do with today's breakfast.
"I do hope our cook wrote down your recipe for this blueberry syrup." Theoden smiled. "It is quite the treat."
"Actually, it's not mine..." Everyone turned to look at me with raised eyebrows.
"Then whose is it?" Eomer poked at the pancakes drenched in blueberry goop.
"Well, the recipe was my mother's, but James is the one who made it."
The room was silent as everyone turned to stare at my brother, who was doing his best to hide his masterful baking skills. He looked up from his plate of pancakes slowly, taking in everyone's eyes. "What?"
"I didn't know you could cook!" Legolas laughed, and James rolled his eyes.
"There was a blizzard and I got bored, okay?"
Poor James. He was always insecure when it came to people knowing about his baking. He learned when we were snowed in one winter, and Collin and Sophie had stayed over. They were hogging the video games, so he had to find other ways to entertain himself. Just don't mention it to any of his track buddies, or he'll panick.
All joking aside, there was something else on my mind.
Aragorn.
That man had stayed outside night and day, his eyes never leaving the beacons. Of course, he would come in now and then to take naps and such, but for the most part he hasn't moved. So, I thought that it would be nice of me to take a little tray of food out for the man. It would be far better than the simple soup he'd been drinking.
I carefully walked down the steps of Meduseld, not wanting to spill the water I'd poured out for him. Besides, I don't know how much Theoden would appreciate blueberry juice all over the steps to his home. Eomer, on the other hand...
I laughed, feeling relatively light and joyful this morning. Oh how I had grown to love Rohan, and the people in it. Such a beautiful and lively place.
I found Aragorn right where he always was. Just a little ways down the hill, sitting on the steps to the tavern, staring at the tips of the mountains. It was a misty morning, and the plains around us disappeared under a thin cloud. You could hear horses neighing in the royal stables up the hill, and many people were just getting up for the daily grind. I lowered myself down next to Aragorn, carefully placing the tray on his lap.
"Good morning!" I chirped happily, giving my friend a bright smile. "Have you been out here all night?" That's sure what it looked like.
Aragorn yawned, blinking his eyes and taking in the full plate of food in front of him. "Most of it. I could not sleep." He sniffed the blueberry syrup. "Blueberries?"
"James made everyone breakfast this morning." I said with a smile, proud of my brother.
"I'm not sure how I should feel about that," Aragorn laughed. "But I am grateful that you thought to bring me some. It looks lovely."
"Beats Eowyn's soup, huh?" I joked, and Aragorn shuddered.
We sat for a while as he ate, singing praises to James's cooking and openly wondering if my brother was really the cook behind it. For whatever reason, no one believed that my brother was good for much more than fighting and running. Can't say I blame them.
"So, no change in the beacons, yet?" I asked as he finished up the food.
"Unfortunately." He sighed. "I wonder how they are faring in Minas Tirith. I met Denethor years ago, when he was much younger. If he's anything like he used to be, Sophie's going to have such a lovely time trying to impress him."
Oh, I'm not worried about Sophie. "So long as she's got Collin, she's fine." Basically everyone who's friends with that boy is awesome by association. "I only feel bad for Gandalf. He chose to take a terrible trio: Collin, Sophie, and Pippin. They're sure to make him go insane."
Aragorn didn't answer, unfortunately. His eyes were focused on a tiny shift on the mountains. A tiny little light, just big enough to notice, was glowing on the tip of the highest peak.
Thoughtfully, Aragorn did not simply toss the tray and run away. No, he very kindly handed me his empty breakfast tray. Then he unthoughtfully ran away. It took me a moment to register the little light in my head, but once I understood, I was up and running as fast as I could without breaking dishes.
"Wait for me!" I cried, the empty water glass shaking on my tray. Aragorn, with his long legs and athletic skills, disappeared into Meduseld before I even reached the steps. I burst through the door, panting, to find everyone in the hall staring dumbfounded at Aragorn. Slamming the tray on the nearest table, I leaned over and clutched my stomach, silently cursing myself for not working out more.
Eomer, along with practically everyone else in the hall, blinked confusedly at me before turning back to King Theoden. It was so silent, asides from my panting, that you could hear a pen drop. And that's when Theoden made the demand to prepare the troops. The hall erupted into cheers, and Eomer ran outside to rally his men together.
"Why's everyone in such a hurry?" James laughed. "I'm sure that Sauron is the least of our worries. Be more worried about the mess that Collin and Sophie have probably made of Boromir's city."
Gimli laughed, having previously occupied with a mound of pancakes. "Gandalf has been around for centuries! I am sure that he has met worse than our Collin and Sophie."
(Sophie)
"I have never met anyone so ridiculous!" Exclaimed Gandalf as he walked through the front door. "A game of cards?"
"Hey, it worked!" I heard Collin defending himself. "The beacons are lit, what's the problem?"
The wizard sighed, shaking his head as I came into the room. "Nothing, forgive me. I am simply weary of this blasted war."
"There's tea in the kitchen, if you want it." I said simply, grabbing my cloak and heading for the front door.
"Where are you going?" Gandalf stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.
"I need a walk. I've been sitting around for ages without a single person to talk to."
"Then stay here!" Collin suggested. "We're people."
Sigh. "No, thanks."
"What's wrong?" Pippin asked in the sweetest tone, and I had to fight the urge to hug him.
"Nothing, really." I assured him.
"Then why are you leaving?" Asked Collin.
"I want to go see my hubby!" I yelled, finally walking through the door.
I admit, that was a little rude of me. Still, I was frustrated. Practically ever since we arrived in Minas Tirith, I've been either surrounded by strangers curious about Boromir's fiance, getting dulled up, or completely alone. All I wanted was a little time to talk to Boromir. I missed him. You can't just spend every day of your life with someone and not miss them the moment they're gone. You would think that I'd welcome some alone time, after traveling with a bunch of men, but I wanted quite the opposite. I loved my friends, and would do anything to spend time wth them.
That's how things were at the moment, at least. Times of war leave you feeling lonely.
So, wrapped in my pretty blue cloak, courtesy of Boromir, I walked the short way up to the Citadel. I knew that's where he would be, and if not, there's another likely alternative. He could be at the tavern, getting drunk after another stressful day with his father. That's less likely, though, since he wouldn't dare go drinking without inviting Collin.
The guards, surprisingly, recognized me at a glance. "Milady." They bowed respectfully. "What can we do for you?"
"Have you seen Boromir around here?" I asked, knowing the answer would be yes.
"Aye, milady, but he is speaking with Lord Denethor and Lord Faramir, at present." Replied one guard.
Sigh. I looked at the sky, noticing the setting sun. "Do you know when he will be done?"
"No, milady, but I can take you to a place to wait for him." Replied the same guard.
"That'd be wonderful, thank you."
He nodded, leading me around the Citadel to a pretty little garden with a lovely tree in the middle. "You can wait here. I will let Lord Boromir know that you are here. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to ask one of the servants."
Great. I could use some pain killers. Nothing gives me a headache like an overly dull day.
The gardens were lovely enough. It didn't look like anyone really enjoyed them, though. More like they were just kept for appearances, rather than use. Maybe that's what all gardens are for to humans here, I don't know. With the hobbits, they're for enjoyment. Elves can't stand being without nature, and I hardly doubt that they really do gardening. It probably just sprouts out wherever they step. Rohan had flowers and such, but they weren't really man-placed or anything. These gardens were nice, though. Back home, mom used to garden all of the time. Of course, we didn't live in the classiest part of a seven-story city...
A throat cleared next to the entrance, and I looked up to see Boromir standing there, looking rather tired.
"Oh, hey." I yawned, stretching my back. I'd somehow managed to doze off with my back against an old tree. The sun had completely sunk in the sky, and the stars were now scattered across the sky.
"Did you have a nice nap?" Boromir laughed, moving closer to stand in front of me.
"Oh, yeah." I replied, although my back was killing me. "The ground here is very... Groundy." Oh, whatever. They don't have a dictionary, here. I can make up words if I very well please. "Have a nice... day?" What exactly does he do, here?
Boromir lowered himself to sit next to me before I had a chance to stand. "It was... Tiring."
"Not good?"
"Not good." He sighed. "Father has his heart set on recapturing Osgiliath." With a blank stare from me, he continued. "It is the city that Faramir fled. Overrun by orcs, and bound to be flooding with them by morning. Sauron's troops will not stop until ever last one of us is dead."
... Well that's... Horrifying...
"At least we have the troops from Rohan coming. If I know Theoden and Eomer at all, they won't let us down." And their people will fight to the death to keep one another safe. Surely they would do the same for their neighbors, no matter how strained the relationship may be.
"Father was not particularly happy about the beacons, by the way," Boromir frowned, even more than he already was. "I pretended to be in the shadows about it all, and he believed me. I do not think that he will put much stress on punishing anyone, either. In fact, I think he may even be relieved that someone else did it. Saves him his pride, and gives him a good reason to be angry at no one in particular."
"Your father needs a hobby. Believe me, I know all about crazy fathers." Unfortunately.
Boromir laughed, probably imagining his father surrounded by all of these flowers, gardening. "My father's not one for hobbies. But believe me, he was not always this stern."
"I don't know him very well, yet, and I can't exactly take Gandalf's word for anything. I like to gather my own opinions on people. Besides, he's far better than my father. Unless, of course, you are hiding any signs of abuse or alcoholism." Those were my father's most distinguished qualities.
As always, when speaking of my father, Boromir got a look of distress. "If I could go to your world, even for a mere hour, I would gladly have that man disemboweled."
He's not the only one. "Unfortunately, I am pretty sure that is illegal, back where I'm from. Something about cruel and unusual punishment, methinks. Don't let that upset you, though. Collin got a good punch in."
Boromir's jaw nearly dropped. "Collin punched your father?"
"Is that shocking?" I laughed. "You just talked about disemboweling him! I should think that a punch wouldn't be so horrible."
"Yes, well," Boromir struggled to piece together his thoughts. "It may be the idea of Collin willingly punching anyone that's shocking."
I thought this over, and agreed. "He is an unusually happy fellow, isn't he?" Which is why he makes such a good friend. I've always got someone to count on. "Well, back to the initial point of this little chat, I hope that you work things out with your father. Just don't do anything stupid. I don't need you getting yourself killed."
"I have no intention of an early death, I can promise you that. What father fails to realize is that I have control over the armies, and they will sooner listen to me than anyone else. Except for Faramir, maybe. The people adore him."
"They adore you, too." Although I don't know Faramir quite well, nothing could make me forget Boromir's glorious return to Minas Tirith. "In any case, I'm sure that you and Faramir will make the right decisions. Your men trust you, I trust you, and I have no worries when it comes to Sauron. I've died once, I can sure as hell do it again." I turned to Boromir to find him smiling at me. "What?"
"I love you."
"Oh..." Blushing, I looked away. "Does that mean that I'll actually be able to spend time with you before Sauron gets here?"
His smile fell, and I knew that he didn't have a good answer. "Perhaps... Father has it set in his mind that I'll be off to Osgiliath, tomorrow."
"I said that I didn't mind dying, but I didn't say anything about you being allowed to die!" Boromir tried to cut in, but I wouldn't let him. "You're a grown man, and your father's days as steward are limited. You do what you think is best, but as your future wife I have to insist that you stay here and save yourself the trouble."
"If I am a grown man, then why am I letting my wife make the decisions?" Boromir teased.
Clearly, marriages here are different than marriages in the rest of Middle-earth. "Because wives are exceptions. You'd better master two phrases, bud. 'Yes, dear,' and 'honey, what would I ever do without you?'"
"Yes, dear."
I smiled. "Atta boy."
"Honey, what would I ever do without you?"
"You're pushing it."
Side note. Should I make a cover for this story? If so, give me ideas!
