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"Am I dead?" His voice trembled, his grief and fear still raw.

He never expected an answer, from anything or anyone, but it came with the deep voice echoing quietly from a brisk wind that swept over the void, shimmering with ghostly shadows that flickered between life and death. The sweep of light passed through the shadows, making Talion jump to his feet, holding Dirhael's broken sword at ready, his heart pounding wildly.

He felt the newcomer…..but could not see him.

The voice echoed briefly, so quickly it barely escaped Talion's knowledge, "You are banished from death."

Talion shivered. In the blink of an eye, he had seen the light, heard the murmur of male voice...and then it was gone. The air had grown colder than before, tickling his skin like drops of icy water. Had it been his imagination? If it had, then he could not help but feel prying eyes observing his demeanor like a concealed predator circling its prey.

Then he saw her.

Sheathing his son's broken sword, Acharn, Talion slowly walked, his body numb with shock. The internal wound festering in his soul from the loss of his son grew into a wider, gaping chasm, searing with edges with licks of hellish flames as he slowly knelt next to the body of his wife.

His love. His life.

Her dark braided hair had fallen loose, spreading out like a wide, wet curtain across the stone, drenched in her own blood, having bled out from the gaping wound across her throat. Her brown eyes were still wide open from staring up at the sky, dull and empty of the beautiful glow that he fell in love with, her mouth parted from giving her final sigh of life. Fear remained in her features, but they also contained submission.

His shaking fingers brushed her cold, pale cheek, but no breath drew from her lips. He picked up her hand in both of his, small and soft in his own larger and more calloused pair. He traced her palm delicately, trying to will her to wake with his soothing touch, but he could feel her warmth no longer.

"Ioreth," he whispered brokenly to the body of his wife. The gentle woman he fell in love with the moment he first laid eyes on her, from the moment he had first heard the sound of her voice. The mother of his children and the living source of all that made him what he was. Another heavy tear trailed down his face unheeded. In shaky whispers that twisted his heart like the edge of a dagger, he kept repeating her name, hoping she would wake up with all the love he had for her. "Ioreth...Ioreth...Ioreth..." he whispered, his voice small and begging her to come back to him.

When he grew silent, he shut his eyes and more tears flooded. He lifted her hand to his lips and let him linger there as his body shook with silent sobs. He could not remember the last time he had ever cried this hard. It had been few...but this was pure anguish.

The internal wound grew wider at the base of his chest. As though feeling it physically, he felt himself lean over once more across the body of another member of his family, but with the one he had pledged his heart and soul to. Without her...without the children she bore him...he was nothing. Nothing.

Talion closed her eyes as he had done with Dirhael and brushed the loose strand of hair from her lovely face. Even in death, she looked so beautiful. His breath shuddering in heavy gasps, Talion leaned over and kissed her lips, still soft but cold as ice. His own hair strands brushed her face as he kissed her, but she still didn't wake.

Breaking from the kiss, Talion wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder. She was so light, so small and fragile. Kissing the top her hair, he rocked her back and forth like a child, letting himself be lost in his tears. After a while, when his moans gradually faded, he then started to hum his wife's favorite song, a tune that had always brought peace to both him and his children.

Even now, he could hear her singing. Oh, how her sweet voice could sooth his soul...

Talion smiled as he heard the familiar humming tune coming from the fair lady behind him. Turning slightly around, he watched as his lovely wife, Ioreth, passed him by while carrying a basket full of newly collected crops to the fortress across the Morannon. She wore a long-sleeved blue dress with a yellow-collared cowl draped over her shoulders, her leather-skinned boots treading lightly over the stone as she hummed more sweetly than the song of birds, soft and warm as honey that lifted the heart of every man, woman, and child as lightly as a cloud.

Though not nearly as much as did Talion, the hardened and respected Ranger Captain of the Black Gate who grows soft and enchanted by the mere presence of this beautiful woman he married.

Talion watched for a moment as she walked away in her flowing blue dress, entranced by her beauty and her voice, a youthful smile growing on his face. Memories of their first meeting resurfaced, for such a special event had happened in such a similar way. A lowly Ithilien Ranger just passing through the markets of the White City, when one day he heard the loveliest voice that his ears ever beheld, therefore tracing to a young Dunedain maiden of noble birth, who also happened to be the most beautiful sight he had ever seen...Even now, it seemed impossible that he was now her husband, that she loved him.

In his hands, delivered from an old friend from back in Minas Tirith, was a small arrangement of white and yellow flowers that shimmered like pearl and gold in the afternoon sunlight, illuminating like the way the stars do. They were still fresh and sweet-smelling, delivered by one of the Rangers of the Gate who was sent on a long-distant errand to the White City.

Niphredil and Elanor, both flowers born of magic and harvested by the Elves. Ioreth's two favorite flowers.

Planning on surprising her with this simple, but thoughtful gift, Talion headed toward the fortress his wife was just entering, creeping silently near the entrance with his blue cloak flowing in the wind and his feet as silent as an Elf's. He paused near the barrels as Ioreth began singing softly to herself as she arranged the crops on one of the long tables:

"On winds and waters may you cross

See mountains white and blue

But on your road, let's not forget

The love I have for you

Dance on beaches in Anfalas

Sleep in moonlit fields of view

May you cross another golden age

With preciousness free-flowing

With Halfling, Elves, and Dwarves engage

Their wisdom on you bestowing..." (Hums)

When Talion breezed behind her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest, and kissed her neck, while holding the small set of flowers before her eyes. She melted into his warm presence with a small giggle and Talion chuckled lovingly.

"Happy Anniversary, my love," he whispered in her ear, before kissing it.

"Talion," Ioreth smiled, as she took the flowers and held them to her nose, breathing in deeply with a look of delight in her brown eyes. She stroked their petals delicately. "These are beautiful. Elanor flowers? These are Elvish...Where did you find them?"

Talion stepped back and shrugged lightly. "I still have a few friends left in Gondor," he said. "There happened to be Elves visiting Gondor at this time, bringing flowers from Lothlorien. I believe it was for a wedding."

Ioreth then turned to him, her delight suddenly becoming a tad more serious. "Did you talk to my father?" she asked.

Talion's smile faded at the mention of her father, the Commander of the Black Gate. Grimly recalling the last conversation he had with Hallas, he sighed and leaned against the table, not looking at her. "Yes, I did," he said tightly, "and nothing has changed. He's still very stubborn."

"I say we go anyway," Ioreth said quietly, eagerness sparkling in her gaze. Talion did not doubt that she meant what she said; it was little wonder his son and daughter were troublemakers. They got most of it from their mother.

Talion shook his head solemnly. "Dirhael will not come willingly," he told her.

"But Elanor would," insisted Ioreth. She gestured around her with the flowers."There must be a better life than this."

Talion gently took both her hands, squeezing them. "Not now..."

"...but soon," she finished with him, their words lacing with reluctant patience. She shook her head and sighed sadly while holding the flowers to her nose once more, "I'm just so tired of hiding out here, Talion. It's been twenty years. You have served your time long enough. Dirhael and Elanor should be running in the fields of Rohan, or exploring the markets of Esgaroth. They should..."

"...be free," he finished softly, causing his wife to meet his knowing gaze. Ioreth was a small woman, about a head shorter than him with a petite frame displaying a warm bosom and graceful arms. Her skin was a creamy pallor with her freckled cheeks tinged a tad golden from the sunlight, her lips red as strawberries, and her young but intelligent eyes were chocolate brown like her long, flowing hair, which was currently bound into a thickly loose braid that lay draped over her shoulder. Her face was heart-shaped and still young, untainted by any burden or sorrows they had in the past (that could be her Dunedain blood, or maybe it was just Ioreth, who had the strength and patience that her husband knew so well).

Taking hold of her shoulders, he pulled her to his chest and enveloped her in his strong arms, her head tucked comfortably under his chin. "It's what I want for them, as well," he said softly. "Every day. Dirhael is old enough to make his own choices now, but Elanor…she's far too young. My greatest fear is that she will one day sneak out of the wall, like she has many times before...only this time she will never come back, whether by her choice or by force."

Ioreth wrapped a hand around her husband's arm, feeling them both sway where they stood. "I cannot lie and say that it hasn't occurred to her," she whispered to the troubled father, "but trust me when I say that your daughter would never willingly leave you. She may have a mind of her own, but she would never leave without our blessing."

"I do trust you...always," Talion breathed into her hair, "but how can you be sure?"

"Because I know our daughter," said Ioreth, pulling back to meet his gaze, and wrapped her arms around his neck, "and so do you. You say she is like me because we look alike, but she is like you, as well. More than you realize. And that is a good thing, Talion," she added firmly, when the man looked away with uncertainty. "You are both brave and headstrong, honorable to a fault, and with a strong-willed heart that can best a hundred men." Talion laughed quietly, and Ioreth cupped his cheek, her hand warm and soft. "And like both of us, together, she is a free-spirit. Dirhael is, too, but he has grown and has entered the age when he can question the difference between duty and desire. Should we leave, he may not have to come, however much it will break our hearts...or maybe he will. The choice is his, but he will always have a place for us in his heart."

As she finished speaking, Talion studied her face, lifting a hand and running his fingers over the loose strands of her braided hair; it intrigued him that it was always somewhat unkempt, as if this woman had been running through the wind as she had twenty years ago. He then traced her cheek, his blood burning with a lust and ferocious love that Ioreth always managed stir within him. It's been a little more than twenty years since they have met, and such as a feeling has never died.

He pressed his forehead against hers, their breath hot and tingling against each other, the flowers' fragrance blossoming between them. "How is it that you always know what to say to me?" he murmured.

Ioreth smiled. "You can handle accepting a lifetime of serving your sentence and you never care what anyone says about it...but when it comes to our children, you fear of letting go. It is something we share, my love."

"My home is wherever you are, Ioreth," he whispered. "Wherever my family is. I would trade my life and soul a thousand times over just so that I can keep holding you like this."

"As would I," whispered Ioreth.

Talion tightened his hold on her. "I wish you wouldn't have to..."

She shook her head. "It's too late. I am yours, my Talion. Forever."

They kissed, her lips warm and soft against his own. Talion was lost in the heat of their passion. It didn't matter that people were watching, Talion was happy. It was one of the few times when he could have time just for them. For them, and no one else. And anyone who would dare interrupt this moment would have to risk meeting the end of his sword...

"There is a private room in the upstairs, you know!"

Save for one, he thought with a resigned smile.

Ioreth laughed against his lips and both turned to see their daughter walking toward them around the set of tables, a bow in her hand, a crooked smile on her face. Dressed in her usual trousers beneath a knee-length green dress, the child had clearly been in archery practice. It was one of the few things that her parents allowed her to do what pleasured her.

"Elanor, darling," greeted Ioreth, holding out a hand toward the girl. "Come here."

Now curious, the girl placed the bow on the table next to the herbs and approached her mother and father. She was a small girl for her twelve years, petite with creamy freckled skin and long, wavy brown hair like her mother, but her eyes were a wide, deep blue-green like the sea. She was the only one in her family with blue eyes; Ioreth said she inherited them from her grandmother, Hallas' wife. Her face was heart-shaped with high-cheekbones like her mother, her chin becoming more narrow with the first signs of maturity, though they still had the soft traces of a child.

Already this preteen, even as a small child, was beautiful like her mother. The thought clenched at Talion's heart.

Elanor was only a few inches shorter than Ioreth when mother and daughter faced each other, innocent blue eyes questioning the wiser brown. Talion watched with amusement as Ioreth selected one of the star-shaped yellow flowers from her anniversary gift, brushed aside strands of Elanor's hair, and placed the flower of her namesake behind her hair.

"There, my precious flower," compliment Ioreth with a nod and kissed the youth's forehead. "My little sun-star. We could not have picked a more suitable name."

Blushing, Elanor rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Happy Anniversary, Mother," she said. She glanced up at Talion and went over to hug him around the torso, who chuckled at his daughter's response. "You too, Father."

Talion hugged her back, kissing the top of her head affectionately, before meeting Ioreth's loving eyes. "I love you," she mouthed, making his heart soar.

In that moment, for the rest of the day, he forgot his previous worries and could only think about how lucky he was to have a family like this, no matter where they were.

They were the reason that kept him breathing. They were his home.

Such a happy day seemed like a dream now, forever slipping from his grasp as he continued holding the body of his beloved Ioreth. His body kept shaking as he wept like a child for what seemed like an eternity. His face face pressed against hers as he continued to rock her back and forth, his chest literally feeling compressed by the weight of his grief crushing his ribs and blocking the air in his lungs.

Recalling Ioreth's gentle words in his memory, he whispered, "I love you, too."

TBC

So this was a chapter for Talion and Ioreth, but I decided to introduce Elanor in the of their anniversary. This took place not long after the first flashback, which was a little less than year ago in the present.

Up next is part 3 of intro, and this time, my OC will be there.

Please review! They mean so much!