"What news is this?" Gandalf said to himself. He was a hardier sort than he looked, Kerra thought. He had taken a beating most fey warriors would have become squeamish at the thought of, and yet was still on his feet. Her respect for wizards had grown immensely.
The rider was Iaka, panting and bleeding from a dozen wounds. She swung down off her mount and ran forward to kneel in front of Anemosi.
"Lady Radika! I'm so glad as that I've found you! Blessed be the Lady, you're alive!" Iaka was weeping with joy. "Oh, but Lady Radika, it's right bad back in Siobhangé, oh Sweet Lady, it's bad..." She broke down into huge shuddering sobs that wracked her entire frame. Masirat gripped her arms tightly and shook her slightly.
"Come on now, Iaka, out with it! What's going on?"
"Oh Lady! The Nazgul came to Siobhangé while all of you were gone!"
Anemosi staggered backwards, and the only reason she remained standing was Sam's strong arm about her waist. "Oh Sweet Lady..." she breathed. Kerra looked sick, and Tasla burst into tears. The rest of the fey were by turns stricken and furious. Anemosi recovered herself fastest, and managed to speak.
"What has happened? How did they get in?"
"We don't know, Lady! All I know is that they were lookin' for the Ring!" Frodo froze, his hand flying to where the Ring hung by a chain on his neck. Gandalf laid a heavy hand on Frodo's shoulder to steady him, but Frodo had gone freezing cold and took no notice of the comfort. Iaka continued, and her next words were devastating.
"Lady Radika, forgive me for as bein' the one to have to tell you this, b-b-but, but they've taken your father."
Anemosi's eyes widened and she fell to her knees. Kerra let out a choked scream and buried her head in her hands.
Sam knelt beside her, trying to lend what comfort he could to his beloved, but she was beyond all comfort now. She raised shimmering eyes to Iaka's, and whispered, "What do you mean, they've taken him? Have they captured him?"
"No, Lady! They've stabbed him! Run him right through with their blades, but he didn't die, he just started to--change...Lady Radika, we are undone!" Iaka doubled over, sobbing broken-heartedly.
Anemosi covered her mouth with a shaking hand. Silence fell over the gathering. A eternity passed before Anemosi pulled away from Sam and rose to her feet. She looked small and young, standing there among her people and surrounded by dead orcs, but she was the Lady Radika, and years of strength and power lent her a dignity unseen before by any gathered there.
"We shall return to Siobhangé," she said, unsteadily at first, but then Sam slipped his rough hand into hers and she gained strength. "We have much work to do, my people, and the day is yet young."
All the fey gathered knelt in unison. "It shall be done, my Lady," whispered Kerra, her blue eyes sad and yet still hopeful. "It shall be done."
The ride back to Siobhangé was silent and fearful. They
were not troubled along the way, but a feeling of palpable dread hung over
them all. The great Autumn
Gate to the city hung smashed and broken beyond repair, and Anemosi
dully directed it to be replaced quickly.
The damage to the city was not unbearable, and the immediate task
of rebuilding the defenses took away the immediate pain of the attack.
Anemosi was separated from Sam almost immediately when they arrived back
at her house, and he did not see her at the evening meal. He missed her
desperately, and worried over her
incessantly until Frodo told him to go and rest before he collapsed.
So, he retreated to his room and worried about her there.
It was about midnight when he he could bear it no longer. He left his room and ran trough the hall of the now-silent house, searching out her room and nearly weeping when he found it. This was where he needed to be, to offer what comfort he could in her time of suffering.
She was sitting on a window ledge, heart-breakingly lovely and alone in the moonlight. She turned as he pulled back the curtain and entered, and the joy in her face as she saw him was indescribable.
"Oh Sam!" She ran to him, bursting into tears as he gathered her in and cradled her frail form against him with all the tenderness that he possessed.
"Hush, hush now, it's going to be alright...I'm here, just rest now..." He stroked her hair gently, and when she pulled away from him, he wiped away the last traces of her tears with rough fingers.
"I'm afraid, Sam," she whispered. "I'm so afraid!"
"Don't be. I'm here, and I won't let you down." He smiled at her sweetly, and tentatively lowered his head to kiss her.
A warm shock ran through her body. The trauma of the past few days, the pain of knowing that her beloved father had been taken from her, the stress of taking over the leadership of her people...it had all drained her heart and left it empty for filling...but with what?
It left her heart empty for filling with Sam.
She kissed him back with more passion, never wanting to leave his side again. Nothing, not even Sauron himself, could drag her away from her little gardener. They clung to each other desperately, two beacons of light and love and goodness in a world suddenly gone very dark. He lifted her gently in his strong arms, and carried her over to the bed and laid her upon it. He climbed up beside her and drew her against him once more, whispering in her ear:
"Sleep now, Anemosi. I'm not going nowhere, so you've got nothing to fear."
Her hand closed tightly around his and she snuggled against his
chest, trying to get as close to him as she could. She was almost asleep
already, but she had
something important to say before she could rest.
"Sam, I meant to tell you, in the gardens...that I love you, my dearest Sam." Her voice faded away and her breathing became even and smooth.
Sam closed his eyes and kissed her lightly. This was true joy,
that, even now, love could blossom in the ruins evil left behind in its
wake. "I love you, Anemosi," he whispered as he too slipped into slumber.