38 – RECOVERY


She didn't know how or when she fell asleep, but when she woke, it was late in the afternoon. Aragorn had left, but he'd been replaced by Tcharum, who stood by the window, his arms behind his back.

The moment she shifted in the bed he spun and practically leapt to her side.

"Tchakhura," he said, his hands fluttering over her as though he was afraid to touch her. "You're awake…"

"I certainly am," she grimaced. There was a sharp, persistent pain in her back that wouldn't let up.

"Here," Tcharum said, dropping some kind of cloudy liquid into a cup of water. "Drink this, and it will help. Aragorn showed me how to make it."

She lifted her arm painfully to hold it, and swallowed it down as quickly as she was able. "Where is he?" she asked.

"Aragorn?" Tcharum said, taking the cup back. "He will have gone to speak with some great lords, or to heal someone else. The one thing that I know he is not doing is sleeping."

"But he looked exhausted last night," Tíniel muttered to herself. She sighed and shook her head. "You two seem to be becoming better friends."

"He has spent most of his time by your side over the past few days," Tcharum said, sitting in the chair by her bed, "and so have I."

Tíniel almost sat up in shock, but the pain forced her back down. "Days?"

He smiled, brushing hair out of her face. "You almost died, sister. Don't be hard on yourself."

"The bamyë?"

"Is in the lower circles of the city," he said placatingly. "We've been resting, tending to our wounded, helping to restore some of the damage done. We are fine."

She sagged back into the pillow. "Thank you."

"It was only my duty," he said. "And that reminds me…"

From under his tunic, he produced her hamarakhi. "I took this from you when I thought you were dead," he said. "And now you can take it back, Tchakhura Khondyë."

She smiled and allowed him to gently put it around her neck. "I'd like my tunic back too," she said. "I don't know what this flimsy white thing is."

"Your tunic is more holes than tunic, I'm afraid," Tcharum said. "We had to cut it off you to get to your wounds. We can get you another, perhaps for when you're not so bandaged up."

Tíniel winced. "Does that mean I was naked?"

Tcharum very purposefully looked elsewhere. "Maybe…"

"Brother!"

"Alright! Yes, you were. But there was so much blood that you were practically clothed in it."

She turned into the pillow and groaned. "Aragorn was here, wasn't he?"

He sighed. "It was he who healed you,' Tcharum said. "Relax, sister. Looking at you was the last thing on anyone's mind."

"So there were others here too?!"

"Tchakhura! For the love of the hamariag, shut up about it!"

"True," she sighed. "Sorry. I'll be a better patient."

"You never were very good at being wounded, were you?" Tcharum grinned. "Remember when we were fourteen, and you broke your ankle?"

"Only too well," she muttered. "Don't remind me."

"Well, can I get you anything else then?" he asked.

"Food?" she suggested eagerly, trying to make it sound like she wasn't starving, but Tcharum sprang to his feet guiltily.

"Of course," he said. "You must be famished! I'll be back as soon as I can!"

He opened the door, then hesitated and looked back. "Do you mind if I send someone in?" he asked. "I know you're tired and in pain, but they've been waiting for a long while…"

Tíniel frowned. "Who has?"

Tcharum stuck his head outside the door, and she could hear him speaking in Westron. "She is waking!"

There were a number of exclamations, and he hushed them.

"Do not touch! Be… be…" he paused, and then said "gentle," in Khandi. Then he switched back to the Common Tongue. "You can go, one by one."

He turned back into the room to look at her. "I'll be back soon, alright?" he said in anxious Khandi.

She nodded, burning with curiosity to see who had waited for her to wake. He left the room, and was replaced by a tall, dark haired man with his arm in a sling.

"Faramir," Tíniel said, her eyes suddenly prickling with tears of joy. "You survived! You are alive!"

He grinned from ear to ear. "You're one to talk," he said. "How are you?"

She smiled back. "Well enough. I am here only thanks to Aragorn, or so I've heard."

"And I am here thanks to you and your cure," he replied, coming to sit beside her. His joviality slipped away. "We did not part well, Tíniel."

Her smile faded. "No, we didn't."

"And it was on my part," he continued. He cleared his throat. "Never had I regretted words so much as when I was sitting outside this room, waiting to be told that you'd died."

She reached over and grabbed his hand. "I had betrayed you," she said earnestly. "The words were harsh, yes, but they were merited."

Faramir sighed and met her eyes. "We were so close before this war. But now nothing will ever be the same."

She smiled. "Except for the fact that I love you," she said. He looked up, and his eyes softened.

"I love you too," he replied. "Will you be my sister again?"

"As long as I live and breathe. You can't change blood."

There was a knock at the door, followed by Pippin's voice. "Hurry up, Faramir! You're keeping her all to yourself!"

"Well then, before I go," Faramir said, smiling wryly and taking something from his pocket. "This is yours."

He put it in Tíniel's palm, and she caught her breath. "The hamarakhi of Gondor," she said. "Faramir, are you sure?"

"If anyone is the leader here, it is you," he replied. "I have heard tales of how you led the men on that charge onto the battlefield. Not to mention the stories – and at least two songs so far – about how you faced down the Witch-King of Angmar to buy time for Rohan. You are a truer leader of Rohan than my father ever was. Galadriel was wise when she gave that to you. Wear it."

She gingerly reached up and looped it around her neck so that it joined the other hamarakhi on her chest. "The first Khondyë to wear two," she said.

He squeezed her hand and stood up. "Time for me to go, I think," he said. "I'll be back when the line of visitors outside your door doesn't stretch halfway to Lebennin."

He opened the door and left, and Petakh and Mugura stepped in.

"Khondyë," Petakh whispered, aghast. "You look terrible."

"To be expected, I suppose," she grinned in reply. "I am glad to see you both made it through."

"Of course we did," Petakh said, "up in the Healing rooms where you had us stationed. I tell you, I would much rather have been fighting down on the ground than doing the things I had to do."

"Me too, Khondyë," Mugura said, looking slightly queasy. "Some of the things I saw…"

"You did your duties, just like the rest of the bamyë," Tíniel said. "I am proud."

"I am glad you're alive, Tchakhura," Petakh said, smiling. "You cannot know how afraid we all were for you, nor how the bamyë grieved when we thought you dead."

"Not just the Maruvikh," Mugura said eagerly. "The Northmen too. They were telling the stories of how you led the charge into battle, and then faced down a monster made of darkness. They said you didn't even tremble when he looked at you, though any other would have swooned."

"They exaggerate, I am sure," she said. "But like I said, we were all simply doing our duties."

"Oh, here – Tcharum gave us food to give to you," Petakh said, handing Tíniel a plate that sported two pieces of bread smothered in butter. "He said he's sorry, he couldn't find any Khandi food. And also he said to remind you that you should eat slowly."

Tíniel nodded and took an enormous bite of one of the pieces of bread. Petakh rolled her eyes.

"I haven't eaten for days," she reasoned with her mouth full.

"We cannot stay long," Petakh grinned. "We have been helping the Healers, especially as they tend to our own. We should go back."

"You'll be alright without us though, Khondyë," Mugura added. "That Northman, Aragorn, will see to it."

Petakh elbowed him in the ribs and he grunted. "Come on, big-mouth," she said. They stood, and Tíniel smiled through another mouthful of bread.

"You're showing, Petakh," she said.

The other woman looked down and smiled, her hands going to cover her now pregnant belly. "I know," she said. "Vagura won't stop boasting to the other men."

"He survived the battle too?"

"Yes. We lost many, but me and my family are safe," Petakh replied. "But we should go. There are others who wish to see you. Khuma."

They were barely gone when Merry and Pippin burst in, followed by Gimli and Legolas.

"Tíniel!" Pippin cried crossly, hurrying to her side. "You took an age to wake up! For a day or two we didn't think you would, either. But Strider – I mean, Aragorn – has been by your side the whole time, and not sleeping a wink."

"You look a fright," Merry said, appalled.

"Well of course she does, lad, she just fought the king of the ghosts and won," Gimli scolded.

"I don't think I can say I won," Tíniel laughed.

"Well, which one of you wound up dead?" Legolas said, a shadow of a smirk on his face.

"What was it like, fighting a Nazgul?" Pippin breathed, his eyes wide. "Were you afraid?"

"Not really," she said. "I just thought I was going to die."

"Your brother is a good sort," Merry piped up. "None of us much liked him at first, but then his Westron started improving, and we liked him a good deal more."

"Merry and I taught him how to say hobbit, and Shire," Pippin said. "Oh, and also ale and Longbottom Leaf."

Tíniel couldn't help but roll her eyes. "If I were well enough, I'd have both of your hides for giving him grief," she said.

"I'll do it for you if you like, princess," Gimli said, causing great alarm on Merry and Pippin's faces. "How do you feel?"

She hesitated. "I'd say I've felt worse," she said, "but I haven't."

"At least you are alive," Legolas said, his eyes trained on hers like he was trying to memorise them. "Aragorn worked tirelessly for it to be so."

"So everyone tells me," she said. She lowered her voice. "Is he… alright?"

Legolas shrugged. "He hasn't slept," he said. "Even more than usual. I feared for him, but I think he will be better now you are awake."

"Much will be better now we know you are well," Gimli said. "You have quite the following outside, Tíniel."

As if to emphasise his words, there was a hammering at the door and a muffled voice shouting "Our turn!" in a strangely familiar accent.

Pippin looked disappointed, and Tíniel reached out with an effort and touched his cheek.

"You can come back, you know," she said. "I daresay I'll need the company."

"We shall meet again soon enough, as you say," Legolas said, smiling ever so slightly. "Get some rest, Tíniel. You will never be forgiven if you do not."

"I'll say," Gimli agreed, and they retreated.

There were some muffled mutterings from beyond the door, and then it was pushed open again, and Tíniel's jaw dropped.

"Harûk? Mahaya?" she gasped.

"She lives!" Harûk crowed. "Though you do look half dead."

"Hardly any way to greet an old friend," Mahaya said disapprovingly.

"I wouldn't expect anything different," Tíniel sputtered, her mouth still open in shock. "By the stars, I never expected to see you lot again. And Mahaya – I thought you were dead!"

Mahaya frowned. "What?"

"A Gondorian told me when I first arrived here," she said. "He said you had died of sickness in the prison at the City of Corsairs, but that the rest of you had escaped."

"Aha!" Harûk laughed. "That was the trick, you see. Mahaya was ill, if you remember."

"I do," she said. "You were wounded, Mahaya, and it was infected. You kept shivering."

"Well it was lucky for the rest of them," Mahaya replied.

"Remuil concocted the most ridiculous plan," Harûk went on. "He knew the cell door wouldn't be opened until the day they took us out to hang. So he had us all shouting that one of us had died. The guards knew Mahaya had been sick, so four of them came to get the body. And the moment they unlocked the door, we were out like a herd of cattle."

"They practically trampled the men," Mahaya said, shaking his head. "They stood little chance."

"I got a sword to the hand," Harûk said proudly, holding up his left hand. Half of his first finger was missing, and there was a thick scar across his palm.

"So that's how you escaped," Tíniel said admiringly. "It sounds just like Remuil. Is he here too?"

"The whole crew of the Haedannen came… except for Remuil," Mahaya said reluctantly. "It's not that he didn't want to see you. He just… doesn't like the land much."

"Everyone came?" she asked, frowning. "But how? Why?"

"We sailed up the Anduin," Harûk said.

"And we came for you," Mahaya added.

"For me?" she asked, still bewildered. "I don't understand."

"Well for a long time after you were taken by the Northmen, we thought you were dead, gone forever," Harûk said. "It was a cheering thought." She shot him a glare.

"He's lying of course," Mahaya said. "Harûk was devastated, and Remuil blamed himself for losing you. For a long time, he wouldn't say anything. He'd stare East a lot too, and everyone knew he was thinking of you. We went to the City of Corsairs a lot more often, in case you'd been able to escape and come back to find us."

"But years passed, and we gave you up for lost," Harûk said. "Until recently. We were in the City, and some drunkard from Gondor was babbling about the Queen of the East. We didn't listen at first, but the more he talked, the more it sounded like you."

"He described this woman, a variagura from Khand who came from Gondor but fought with a curved sword," Mahaya went on. "She spoke the Common Tongue, which had never been spoken by a Khandi before, and had the strength of a man and the speed of a snake. She led a Khandi tribe into the West to fight against the Enemy."

"Remuil figured it out first," Haruk said. "But it did made sense. If there was one person in this world annoying enough to become renowned across the land for being ridiculous, it would be you."

"Thanks," Tíniel said dryly.

"Anyway, for a short time Remuil debated going East to find and help you," Mahaya said. "He still felt guilty for failing you when we were captured, and he felt certain the Queen of the East was you."

"He had this whole thing about 'fighting the darkness,' too," Harûk said. "The crew was keen and willing to follow him, but in the end, he changed his mind. We went, and where he is now, I haven't the foggiest idea."

"He was afraid," Mahaya said quietly. "Every time he mentioned going East, his eyes would darken, and he would look far away. He said there was too much waiting for him if he went."

"He kept saying 'They will find me,'" Harûk said, putting on what Tíniel assumed was an imitation of Remuil. "'They will find me, and the curse will strike again.' And who knows what that means. But you know the rule of the Haedannen. Don't ask, don't tell."

"He is an Elf," Tíniel said. The two men frowned.

"A what?" Mahaya said.

"An Elf," she repeated. "They're like men, but they live forever unless they are felled by sword or sickness. Have you met Legolas?"

"The pretty boy who was waiting to see you?" Harûk asked, and she nodded.

"He is an Elf as well. A prince too. Most of them live up North, but Remuil… well, we were all hiding from something."

They were both staring at her, mouths agape.

"Men who live forever?" Mahaya asked.

"I know it sounds like a mother's tale," she said, "but it's true."

"How do you know that Remuil was one, then?" Harûk asked.

"Well, he just seems different, don't you think?" she asked. They hummed in agreement, and she went on. "Even so, he felt older even than most Elves. Some of them have a strange sort of youthfulness about them, but Remuil didn't. He seemed older, and sadder."

"I'll take your word for it," Harûk said. "Well, in any case, it's good to see you again. Perhaps when this is all over you can come back to us on the Haedannen."

She smiled wryly. "Somehow I don't think that's possible," she said. "Though the thought is sweet."

"What keeps you?" Mahaya asked.

"My tribe," she said. "I am their leader now, and I have a duty to them. I have friends in Gondor too now, and in the North as well." She shook her head. "But it isn't just that. The truth is, the Haedannen was somewhere for me to hide, but now… I have nothing to hide from anymore."

"Not to mention the fact that you have a man now, hm?" Harûk said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mahaya smacked him on the shoulder. "The king of subtlety as usual," he scolded. "We've only just found the poor girl, let her alone for five minutes."

"Unlikely. I've let her alone for five years," Harûk said. Then he sobered. "I've nobody else to bother anyway."

Mahaya put his arm around Harûk's shoulders and they were silent for a second.

"What happened?" Tíniel asked quietly.

"We lost Grimbold," Mahaya said. "And six others."

"I am sorry," she said, guilt stabbing at her. "You did this for me."

"We did it of our own free will," Harûk said firmly. "We all knew the risk and we took it anyway. It is us who should be sorry for letting you be taken all those years ago."

"It is something I don't regret," she said. "So let us leave it in the past."

At that moment, the door opened quietly, and Aragorn stepped inside. The dying sunlight cast long shadows on his face that made him look almost deathly in his fatigue.

"I think that's our cue, Harûk," Mahaya said, standing.

"Don't leave on my account," Aragorn said. "I just wanted to see if all was well."

"No, no, we'll leave you two together," Harûk said, winking at Tíniel. She rolled her eyes.

"We'll be here," Mahaya assured her. "Just outside."

"Just scream and we'll come to your aid!" Harûk added. "But we'll be back soon anyway!"

The door finally swung shut behind them, and there was a moment of silence. Aragorn stood there unmoving for a few seconds, simply staring at the door. Tíniel watched him with concern.

"Aragorn," she said at last, and his head jerked up.

"Sorry," he said. "I was thinking."

"I know."

He came and sat beside her bed with a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "I'm tired, that's all."

She shook her head. "You're not tired, Aragorn. You're exhausted. Have you even slept since the battle?"

He dropped his eyes and said nothing, and she sighed. "Exactly. You need to stop for a moment, do you understand me?"

"I would like to, believe me," he said. "But there is too much to be done."

"I lose count of how many times I have told you to rest," she scolded him. "But I have never seen you this bad."

He shook his head. "How is the pain?" he asked, changing the subject.

She narrowed her eyes, but answered the question anyway. "It is better already," she said. "My back hurts the most, and my legs feel numb."

Aragorn's face grew suddenly grave. "Can you… move your legs?" he asked, his voice strained.

She tried it, and her right leg twitched. A wave of pain swept through her, and she cried out through gritted teeth. It took at least a minute for it to subside, and when she came to, she found herself clinging to Aragorn's arm with all her strength. He was kneeling beside the bed, stroking her hair.

"It's alright," he whispered. "It's alright. I'm here." She couldn't help it; she began to cry, and he pressed his forehead to hers. "I'm here."

"I was trying to be brave when they were all coming in to see me," she gasped through her tears. "But it hurts so much, and I'm just so – so –"

"Oh, my love," he said gently. "I know."

"I was happy to see them. I was, but – but the battle, and, and…"

"You endured more than any man should," he whispered. "You are allowed to be weak."

She drew in a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the pain in her obviously broken ribs. "What's wrong with me?"

"Hm?"

"How have I been hurt?"

He drew back a little, but left his arm in her grip. He hesitated for a moment, but then sighed, seeming to sense the uselessness of withholding the information.

"You're covered in open wounds, from the spikes on his mace," he said, and she felt him shudder a little. "Your right arm is broken, as are several of your ribs. You're covered in some of the most impressive bruises I've ever seen. And your back…" he shook his head. "I don't know what happened to it. It twisted somehow, from the final blow he dealt you. I was afraid it was broken, but if you can move your legs, even a little…"

"Not without pain," she whispered, her face contorting at the memory. "Not without terrible pain."

"Still, there is hope," he said, putting his hand up to her face. "It was you who used to tell me that all the time."

"Then I'll have to believe it," she said, smiling a little. "Will you stay tonight, Aragorn?"

"If you wish it," he replied, smiling down at her.

"Alright. Move me over," she ordered.

He frowned. "What?"

"Move me to the side of the bed, so there is room for you."

"Tíniel, no."

She gave a small, painful shrug. "Do it, or I'll scream and Mahaya and Harûk will do it for me."

Aragorn clenched his jaw, then shook his head. "Fine," he bit out. "I'll do it."

With great care, he lifted her and gently let her down on the other side of the bed. Then he sat on the side that was now free.

"No," she said, once the pain faded enough for her to talk. "Take your shoes off first. You're not leaving halfway through the night."

He smirked. "And if I say no?"

"I'll scream, and I don't doubt that they will come. I have powerful friends, Aragorn. Pirates are not to be trifled with."

He shook his head and took off his boots, placing them by the bed stand. "Your loss if my feet smell," he said.

She shrugged. "I've grown used to it, I'm afraid," she said.

He laughed and lay down beside her. "You know I can't stay," he said.

She looked sideways at him. "You need to sleep, Aragorn."

He smiled. "I've actually tried, you know," he said. "But every time I shut my eyes, I see things."

"What things?"

"The battle at Helm's Deep, for one. Gandalf falling into Moria, though that wound is closed. I see the Paths of the Dead, Boromir with arrows in his chest, a pile of burning orcs outside of Fangorn Forest. But mostly I see you, standing before the Nazgul, waiting to die."

She reached over with her left arm and brushed a piece of hair out of his face. "Will you try again? For my sake?"

He held her gaze steadily. "You know I can't."

"For me?"

He barely hesitated. "Alright."

They lay there in silence together, watching each other, but after a while, Aragorn's eyes began drifting shut.

"Just go to sleep," she whispered. "I'm with you."

"I know," he murmured. Moments later, his breathing deepened, and his eyes stayed shut. Tíniel smiled slightly and shut her own eyes. The pain was there, yes, but it wasn't bad. And despite it, she too began drifting away.

The next morning, she woke when the sun was already high. The pain had lessened still more, but everything still hurt, and she turned her head uncomfortably. She blinked in surprise when she came face to face with Aragorn.

He was still fast asleep, breathing deeply and evenly. She couldn't stop a smile ghosting across her face. No, the war had not yet been won. But this felt like a small victory.

"I love you," she whispered. He sighed, but he didn't wake. Her smile widened.


Thank you enormously for your reviews! And hi to the new readers... every update I get one or two more binge-readers and it makes me very happy.

The weather is just gorgeous where I am at the moment. Autumn is the best time of year, change my mind. I hope the story provides a little bit of distraction from the real world – just because you're in isolation doesn't mean you're alone!

Sending love and excessive social distancing,

S